The Initiation (Filthy Rich Americans 1)

Later that night, we’d wound up at an all-night diner.

Royce hadn’t seen Emily and me come in. He’d been drinking coffee at a table on one side and his back was turned, and we’d arrived just in time for him to recap his night. He’d announced he thought the evening was cool . . . up until the moment he’d “seen a nobody like Marist Northcott was there.” My presence, according to him, had made the whole experience lame.

Sophia Alby was sitting across the table from him and lifted her surprised gaze to me, and it was enough to grab his attention. He turned over his shoulder, just enough to give me a view of his side profile. I saw him, and he saw me, and he had to know his comment had registered, given my shocked expression. He didn’t care how his words had landed or stripped me down. He just shrugged, turned back around, and rolled right on into his conversation.

I was worthless. He was the prince of Cape Hill, and he had declared me a nobody, which meant it was now law.

His offhanded comment decided my whole fate at Cape Hill Prep and the social circles I would never be allowed into. He’d labeled me a leper. It wasn’t like I couldn’t survive, but he’d made the last five years so much harder. Not to mention lonely.

I didn’t like how he’d had that kind of power over me. If there was a specific moment in my life when I’d decided I didn’t give a fuck what other people thought, I’d point a finger to that moment.

It gave me satisfaction to know if things went well between Royce and Emily as his family wanted, this nobody would become his sister-in-law. Royce’s blue eyes clouded over, but the tension in my body firmed up as the memory drifted through my brain. I wouldn’t show any emotion. I wasn’t going to let him know his offhanded comment had affected me or shaped me in any way.

“That was a long time ago.” His voice was hollow.

“Hmm.” Funny. The lingering sting was still sharp enough it felt brand new.

When his gaze slid down the length of my body, his voice went as smooth as buttery leather. “I was wrong, though. You’re not a nobody.”

Unwanted heat sparked inside me. It was impossible to look at him and not think about sex. His cheekbones were cut high and elegant, and his mouth could twist into a devastating smirk. Life had cast Royce as a playboy, and he looked every bit the part.

“Again, save it for Emily.” I’d strived for an annoyed tone but faltered, and it came out breathy. Like I was begging, rather than chiding.

He took my reaction as a small victory, and it flashed in his eyes. “But I’m not interested in your sister.”

His meaning was perfectly clear when he drew in a deep breath, his broad chest expanding and filling the space between us. The library was suddenly cramped and tiny. The shelves closed in, the curtains strangled, and there was no escape.

An insidious voice whispered inside me, telling me I didn’t want to escape, anyway.

A war waged between my body and my mind. Physically, I wanted him. I was starved for attention when it came to boys, and on the surface, there wasn’t one more appealing than Royce Hale. But he was also the very reason I had such a hard time finding someone to date during my cloistered life. The crop of eligible men in Cape Hill was small, and I was awkward, and Royce’s comment had been the nail in the coffin.

He was fucking with me. There couldn’t be any other explanation. What was his end goal? Did he want me flustered and falling all over him like the other girls did? Was he going to pretend to seduce me and then spur me off, humiliating me at the last second? Run to my sister and tell her how pathetic I was?

“Oh, yeah?” I blinked innocently. “What exactly are you interested in?”

He matched my harmless attitude, threading his tie through two fingers and slid them down the length. “Avoiding people and staying here in the library with you.”

It was a rare misstep for him. He’d overcompensated, and this was a bluff. I was excited to have the power to call him on it. I swallowed in a preparing breath, shifted the book into my left hand, and set the palm of my right on the center of his tie, my fingertips resting on his dress shirt. The silk was cool and soft, contrasting against the warmth seeping through the fabric covering his hard chest.

I wasn’t practiced at seduction, but I threw everything I had at it. “What should we do?”

His eyes widened. Oh, my God. There wasn’t anything more exciting than seeing the prince caught off guard. It lasted only long enough for me to recognize it before his large hand came down on mine, trapping my fingers in his and pressing my palm flatter against his chest.