Page 17 of Wicked Prince

I roll my eyes, trying not to let on to the fact that his words make me shiver for all the wrong reasons. "Trust me, if I knew you were going to be here, I wouldn't have come."

I mean it as a jab, but he just chuckles. Then again, if I were him, I guess I wouldn’t let anything get to me, either. The guy's self-esteem is like an impenetrable fortress. "I'm surprised you don't think you're too good for parties."

His words catch me off-guard and I raise an eyebrow. Is that what he thinks? That I'm some snobby rich girl who keeps to herself because she can't be bothered? I guess that's better than him knowing the truth.

"Not at all. As a matter of fact, I'd like to get back to it," I say, starting to walk past him when his arm shoots out and he blocks me against the sink like he did before. Unlike then, this time, it really is just the two of us.

As he stares down at me with that impossibly intense gaze, a thousand thoughts are running through my mind. I should be afraid, and I am, but not out of self-preservation. My heart is pounding for equally frivolous reasons, but I can't get it to stop. I can't deny the effect he has on me, either. Everything from the faint whiff of his expensive cologne to the careless swagger in his step is intoxicating and overwhelming, and it leaves me wanting more.

I should knee him in the balls and tell him to go straight to hell. Instead, I just stare at him like an idiot, and when he reaches out to touch my face, I freeze like ice. It's a stark contrast to the heat that stirs within my core as his gaze smolders at me and he caresses my cheek with a surprisingly tender touch.

For a few seconds, time stops and I forget all about the party raging downstairs. All about Bainbridge, for that matter. It’s only the two of us, and right now, that feels like a good thing.

Before I can talk myself out of something that feels inevitable—something I want, even if I don't want to admit it—he leans in to kiss me.

And I let him.

I just fucking let him.

Not only that, but when I feel his tongue flicker against my bottom lip, I open my mouth to receive it. He tastes cool and minty, and his kiss is as forceful as I expected. I yield instinctively, and I find myself grateful he has me backed against the sink because I no longer trust my ability to stand on my own.

We stay like that for what feels like hours, but it can't have been more than a few moments. I finally come to my senses and break the kiss, if only because I have to come up for air. I stare at him for a second, unable to believe what I just did. His eyes are glazed with lust, and as his fingertips brush down my jaw and neck, I realize I'm even further gone than he is.

"Fuck," I mutter, bringing my hand to my lips.

"That’s where I thought this was headed," he says dryly. "You want to take this into the bedroom?"

His smartass remark is enough to jolt me out of my trance, even if I doubt he's fully joking.

"I can't be doing this," I mutter, slipping past him. He catches the door when I barely have it cracked open, but he seems surprised when I turn on him with a glare.

"Running off again?" he asks in a way that makes it clear this doesn't happen to him often—and he's really not sure what to do about it. But that's his problem, not mine.

"The kiss was… a mistake," I say, choosing my words carefully. "This isn't going anywhere. Sure as hell not to your room."

He gives another dubious laugh. I think he's actually offended, but he looks more confused than anything. "Are you serious? You know every girl in school would kill to be you right now, don't you?"

Well, the egotism is definitely enough to quash any lingering lust that might otherwise cloud my judgment. I can't help but laugh, and that really seems to piss him off.

"You're more than welcome to go find one of them. Now let me out."

His eyes narrow as he stares down at me, but other than the glint of anger in them, his expression is mostly unreadable. He pauses for a few moments, like he's considering how to handle what's probably the first rejection he has ever dealt with in his life, before he finally steps back and releases his hold on the door.

I leave without another word and don't stop to look back. Once I'm downstairs, I plan on just slipping out quietly, but Anthony catches me before I can reach the door.

"There you are," he says, giving me a concerned once over. "Whoa. You okay? Did something happen?"

"I'm fine. Sorry, it's just been a long day and I completely forgot I have something to do in the morning," I say, smoothing a hand through my hair since I realize it's probably still tousled from… whatever the hell that was.

"On the second day?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Sorry for bailing so early."

"Don't worry about it," he says, still looking at me like he doesn't quite believe my story. "I can drive you back to the dorms."

The offer takes me by surprise, and I feel even guiltier about ditching, but even though Lorenzo hasn't come down the stairs yet, I know better than to stick around and take my chances. "Thanks, that's really sweet. But I'll be fine. It's like two minutes away."

A little more than that, but I could use the fresh air.

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