Page 10 of Spearcrest Knight

Then he raises his hand, placing a finger under my chin. He tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look up.

“Stay,” he says, his voice more like a caress than a sound.

A dangerous caress.

His blue gaze pierces me, unflinchingly direct and yet indecipherable. Tiny waves of shivers skitter across my arms and back. His finger drops from my chin, scrapes down the length of my neck.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you ordering me, or asking me?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, they immediately sound like a challenge. The corner of Evan’s mouth rises in a slight, crooked grin, full of charm and danger.

“Whichever you prefer, Sutton. Or maybe you’d rather I beg?”

There is a dark suggestion in his tone, but before I can think of something non-committal and safe to reply with, a girl calls out, “Evan, are you coming? You’ve got the cards!”

His eyes stay fixed on mine as he turns his head slightly to respond, “I’m coming!”

Then, lowering his voice again, he says, “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? We’re going to play Strip Kings. You might get to see me naked.”

“I’ll pass, thanks,” I say quickly, pushing past him and hoping my cheeks don’t look as red as they feel.

“You’re going to regret it,” he calls after me. “Might be the only action you get this year.”

“Then I’d rather get no action.”

Then I practically run out of the study hall, my heart beating so hard I can taste my pulse in my mouth.

Evan

“Evan!Youcoming,orwhat?” Giselle calls.

I take the pack of cards from my pocket and saunter over to the others. Luca is reclining on a desk, his arm wrapped lazily around Giselle, who sits on the bench next to him.

He raises a pale eyebrow at me in question, but I toss him the cards instead of giving him an answer. Then I take two glasses of champagne and down them, trying to swallow back the sudden anger welling up in my chest.

I dated Giselle last year, so of course, Luca has to make a point of flashing her on his arm like he flashes his watches. I don’t hate him for it—the privilege of being one of the Young Kings of Spearcrest comes at the cost of never having anything truly for yourself. That’s fine.

But he doesn’t need to know my every thought and emotion.

Especially not when it comes to Sophie.

A perfumed arm wraps around my waist, and a pretty voice reaches my ear. “Why so gloomy, Evan?”

Seraphina “Rose” Rosenthal appears at my side. If I had to pick someone to be the polar opposite of Sophie, it would really be her. Where Sophie is tall, Rose is petite, where Sophie is dark-haired and olive-skinned, Rose is fair, with long blond hair that makes her look like a Disney princess.

Where Sophie is serious and austere, Rose is as light-hearted and frivolous as a cupcake.

Of course, I’m not an idiot. I know Rose wants me—she’s wanted us to be a couple for a long time. She knows what I deep-down also know: that we would make the picture-perfect Spearcrest couple. We are both good-looking, both American, both fun-loving and rich as the day is long.

But Rose, for all her beauty and outrageous outfits and airy laughter, doesn’t excite me like Sophie does.

She doesn’t captivate me, she doesn’t draw me in. She doesn’t fill me with adrenaline, with the urge to dominate and defeat.

If I had to choose, I would pick fighting Sophie over fucking Rose.

Every time.

“I’m not gloomy,” I say, plastering a grin on my face and handing her one of my glasses of champagne. “Why would I be gloomy?”

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