Page 25 of Wicked Prince

"I don't know," he admits. "But I'm interested enough to try."

Okay, that… wasn't what I was planning on his response being.

Fuck.

What am I supposed to say to that?

I open my mouth to reply before I've actually formulated a response, but in the time it takes me to fail at that task, he's closed the distance between us. I just sit there, frozen like I was the night of the party. Even though I know what's coming, even though I've made this mistake once before, when he presses his lips to mine, I don't push him away.

I kiss him back.

Again.

Because out of all the enemies I've made in this town so far, I'm the worst one.

ChapterEleven

AMELIA

Ibreak the kiss in another sudden burst of rationality, but this time, I know it's not going to last. I go through the motions anyway, bringing a hand up to cover my lips, as if that's going to do anything. They're still tingling from being kissed hard enough to bruise, but I still want more.

"What the fuck, Lorenzo?"

He just smirks, cool and unaffected by my accusation. "There you go again with those mixed signals."

I get up from the couch and stalk over toward the door while I still have a shred of sanity left in me. What the hell am I doing? What the hell is wrong with me?

He catches my wrist halfway into the foyer, and while his touch isn't particularly rough, it's enough for him to turn me around to face him. There's challenge in his gaze as he takes a step closer, leaving only a sliver of air between us.

"Are you really going to run away from this again?" he taunts.

"From what?" I shoot back, pulling my arm out of his grasp. "From your sleazebag seduction routine?"

He snorts, unphased. "If that's what it is, you fell for it pretty easily." He reaches out and strokes my hair behind my ear, and even though it makes me shiver, I don't pull away the way I should. Not even when his gaze darkens and his thumb sweeps across my bottom lip like he took pointers from a leading man in a Nicholas Sparks movie.

And it's working.

Son of a bitch, it's working.

"But I don't think that's what this is, and I don't think that's whatyouthink this is," he says, his voice growing husky. Intimate.

"Then what is it?" I ask against my better judgment. Lorenzo has a way of rendering that null and void.

His lips quirk, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Not dangerous because I'm afraid of him. Dangerous because I'm afraid of myself, and who I become when I'm with him.

"You tell me," he says, his gaze traveling down over me. It makes me tremble, like he doesn't even need to touch me to exert such effects. "It could be a mistake, or it could be the best night of your life. Maybe even both."

I blow a puff of air through my nose. "Full of ourselves, aren't we?"

"I never write a check I can't cash," he shoots back without missing a beat.

Before I can retort, he kisses me again, and this time, I don't even have the strength to pretend like I don't want it.

It's a deadly mistake, a moment of weakness he won't let me forget or live down. I know that, but even as I can see it all playing out in front of my eyes like a prophecy, I'm powerless to stop it.

Powerless to stop myself from returning the kiss as his hand slips into my hair and he backs me up against a wall.

His hands are all over me the way they were that night in the bathroom, but mine are just as eager, groping his strong arms through his shirt. His tongue enters my mouth, selfish and domineering as usual, and my lips part freely, welcoming it in.

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