Page 44 of Delectable Lies

About twenty minutes later, our tour concludes, and she guides me towards room P14 before gently tapping her knuckles at the door. While we wait for the teacher to grant us access, she gives me one more piece of ominous advice. “Try not to get too tangled in the politics of this palace, Saoirse. From your transcripts, I can tell you are a smart girl, just like your mam was when we were younger.”

Before I can question her or what she meant by that statement, the door swings open, revealing a well-dressed man in his mid-to-late thirties. “Ms Kavanagh,” he greets before his bright eyes land on mine. “And you must be Ms Ryan.”

I nod and swallow the nerves building in the base of my throat. “Come on in, and I’ll introduce you to everyone and then you can take a seat.”

I step forward, but Ms Kavanagh speaks once more, halting me in place.

“Saoirse, if you need anything, you know where my office is.”

“Thank you.”

She tips her head before spinning on her heel, leaving me standing in the doorway with over thirty eyes trained on me. It’s then the whispers start.

Thrown to the wolves…here goes nothing.

“Everybody, settle down,” Mr Lynch announces. “This is Saoirse, our newest student. So be on your best behaviour, and for the love of God, make her feel welcome.”

“Oh, I’ll make her feel more than welcome, sir.” Some arsehole in the front row jeers, making the rest of the class burst with laughter, including the girl next to him, which just so happens to be the blonde wrapped around Rohan this morning.

Just my fucking luck!

“I apologise for the animals I seem to be teaching. Some of them really need to work on their manners.” Mr Lynch holds his palm out, pointing between the two rows. “There’s a free seat in the back row. Hopefully, Donnacha’s poor attempt at flattery won’t reach you back there.”

The class laughs again, and I realise English won’t be so bad, especially with Mr Lynch’s easy-going rapport.

Following his guide, my feet carry me forward as my eyes roam over all the nameless faces. In the middle row, I spy Aodhán, who gives me a reassuring smile followed by a cheeky wink. Then, finally, the guy in the seat behind him, next to the empty chair, comes into view. When he lifts his head from his open textbook, my breath lodges in my throat as he peers up at me over his thick black lashes. His familiar forest terrain eyes connect with mine as a slow but smug smile forms on his lips.

You have got to be kidding me!

“We really need to stop meeting like this, love. I’m starting to think you’re following me.”

Ignoring him and the underlying taunt in his words, I take my seat before pulling my textbooks from my bag.

For a few minutes, he remains silent, piercing me with his unnerving glare, until finally, I can’t take it anymore, and twist in my seat to stare back. “Stop staring at me!” I whisper with aggression, which only feeds his ego.

Leaning back, he balances his chair on the rear two legs as the dimple in his right cheek deepens. “No.”

“Rohan!”

“Love,” he counters as his chair falls forward, drawing him further into my personal space.

“Quit calling me that.”

“Also no.”

Irritation explodes, instantly souring my mood. Shifting in my seat, I slide the chair to the left, as far away from him as I can get without drawing any attention our way. Only, my slight reprieve doesn't last long because Rohan decides to follow my movement, closing every millimetre of the distance between us until our legs are brushing against each other.

Without warning, he drags the butt of his pen along my thigh. Gliding it over my skin until it’s roaming dangerously close to the hem of my skirt. “How many times do I have to tell you? You can run, but I’ll always find you.”

I should ward him off and fight against his invasion, but the darker part of me craves the danger that clouds him. Curiosity killed that cat, and Rohan King may be the death of me.

His pen slips beneath my skirt, trailing higher, closer to the edge of my thong. My entire body becomes ramrod straight as shivers nip my spine and spasms cinch my core.

Frozen to my seat, the sound of my erratic breaths pound in my eardrums as the blood in my veins pumps towards the wanting destination between my thighs.

“What are you doing?” I manage to force the words out past my clenched teeth.

His eyes are on mine, searing past the exterior and exposing my soul. “Do you want me to stop?”

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