Page 92 of The Stolen Princess
She leaned in, pointing to a spot on the map. Her eyes glanced up. Drake was so close, and suddenly she lost her breath. A piece of his brown hair dropped across his face like it always did, and Myka had to fight the urge to push it back from his brow.
“I know you’re risking a lot, joining forces with me,” he said in his low, husky way.
She shrugged, not sure what else to say.
He reached his hand up and tucked a loose strand of her brown hair behind her ear. The action set her skin on fire. Apparently,hewasn’t fighting the urge to touch the other person’s hair. She swallowed, getting lost in his deep brown eyes. There was something about Drake. Confidence, yes. But, it was more than that. Drake was passion, drive, and intelligence all wrapped up into one incredibly handsome package. She didn’t entirely understand it, but Myka wanted to be the best version of herself just to impress him, to prove to him that she was a formidable partner. She had never felt that way before, and this new feeling made her finally feel alive.
“How many hoursdo you think we’ve been playing Monopoly?” Drake asked, yawning.
Myka shook the dice and threw them out in front of her. “The game would be over by now if you would give me Boardwalk. Then I could put houses and hotels on the two blue ones.” She flashed him a flat smile.
“It’s not going to happen. Eventually, you’ll go bankrupt.”
“That’s so rude. Let me own both blue properties. You pretty much own everything else.”
“It’s not my fault you decided to become a railroad tycoon.”
She slapped the table in front of her, knocking over Drake’s man on a horse. “Why are you holding onto Boardwalk? Let it go!”
Drake folded his arms, raising his eyebrows. “Maybe you need to let it go.”
“This game will never end if you don’t give it up.”
“Sure, it will.” Drake leaned forward, spreading out what was left of her money. “If you land on Pennsylvania Avenue one more time, you’ll be bankrupt.”
She pursed her lips together. “Give me Boardwalk.”
“No.”
Myka reached out for the square card, but Drake was faster. He snatched it up, swinging his arm behind him and shoving it in his back pocket.
“You’ll never get it now,” he said. “Unless you go after it.”
“I’m not the one nicknamed Mr. Grabby Hands, so I probably won’t go after it.”
Drake smiled.
This was fun.
Myka hated losing the game, but spending time with Drake was amazing. She never knew that she could feel like this. She was turning into some kind of Drake Vestry fanatic. Every little thing he did was attractive. Even the way he beat her at Monopoly.
Drake yawned again, and somehow eventhatwas attractive.
“Maybe we should go to bed. It’s late, and you’re tired.” Myka stood, sighing. “Good game. Too bad we couldn’t finish it to find out who won.” She started gathering the pieces and fit them back into the box.
The corner of his mouth lifted up. “I think we know who won.”
She shook her head. “It’s still up in the air.”
“Okay, Myka.” His brown eyes gleamed back at her.
Ugh! Did he have to besocute?
Once the game was cleaned up, she turned around and climbed into bed. The heavy rain outside had slowed to a trickle, making a light noise against the roof above. She pressed her back into her cot as Drake dimmed the lantern and lay down beside her.
The cots had seemed small every night that Myka had been at camp, but tonight they felt especially small. She didn’t hug the wall like she usually did. Tonight, she scooted to the edge closest to Drake’s cot. She lay stiff, with her arms to her sides, keenly aware of his shoulder resting against hers and the way his bare arm grazed the side of hers. She couldn’t see his hand, but somehow she knew his fingers were next to hers, begging to be touched.
It would feel so nice.
