House of Strife (Poisoned Houses Book 4)

by Lyn Forester

  Felix grins. “Easier than you’ll pull off being me.”

  “I think we’re screwed.” But I head for the door anyway.

  I kick the back of Felix’s seat as he raises his hand again. He’s taking being Connor to the extreme and answering every question the teacher asks. Connor doesn’t do that. It’s something Felix does when he bothers to participate in class.

  Myrrine turns to glare suspiciously at him from her place at the front of the classroom.

  We’d arrived at the same time the rest of the class returned from Etiquette training and had to make-do with the seats left at the back of the class, which worked out fine for our subterfuge.

  But Connor’s head keeps popping up from his desk whenever he finds a question interesting and Felix is being an attention-seeking know-it-all. The twins are apparently horrible at pretending to be each other.

  Thankfully, Mr. Halcroft just seems glad to have more than Myrrine actively participating without having to force it out of the rest of the class.

  As a reward, he releases us thirty minutes early to go work on our school projects.

  We linger at the back as the rest of the students flee the classroom. Myrrine angrily stuffs her tablet into her bag before she stomps back to our group and slams her hands down on Felix’s desk.

  He jumps in his seat, head tipping back to stare up at the irate halion. “Something wrong, Myrrine?”

  She leans down, her cheeks a flood of purple and blue. “Swapping places with Connor to increase his standing in class is cheating, and I will not stand for it.”

  Felix fusses with his glasses. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  She stabs a finger into the air in front of Felix’s nose. “You are not Connor. Connor has an average intelligence in subjects not pertaining to science. We did not discuss science today.”

  Connor’s head lifts high enough from his desk for him to mutter, “Gee, thanks. Way to make a guy feel mediocre.”

  Myrrine straightens, her arms folding under her ample chest. “Your intelligence is above average when compared to the average student, but APA contains very few average people, therefore lowering your placement in comparison.”

  Felix turns toward his brother. “Feel better now?”

  He drops his head back into his arms, his voice muffled. “Not at all.”

  I gather up my tablet and stand to draw my roommate’s attention. “They’re not trying to raise Connor’s class standing. We just didn’t know how else to hide his face.”

  “My face isn’t suitable for the public,” Connor mumbles into his desk.

  “The discoloration wasn’t that bad,” Myrrine scoffs. “And the teacher already thought you were unwell. A little pink in the cheeks is expected.”

  Connor straightens, head turning, and he glares at me and Felix. “Why didn’t you think of that?”

  “What happened to your face?” Myrrine gasps. “Did you lose circulation? Can humans lose circulation in only half their face?”

  Nikola joins us and studies Connor’s cheek. “I think it’s poorly applied makeup.”

  Connor’s accusing gaze shifts fully to me, and I hold up my hands. “Don’t blame me. I’ve never used makeup.”

  “That’s because your skin is radiant all on its own,” Myrrine assures me.

  Heat creeps into my cheeks. “Thank you?”

  Nikola reaches out to swipe at Connor’s face, then stares at his fingers. “What brand did you use?”

  Pulling the compact from my pocket, I pass it over.

  “Skittles said it was the best,” Felix drops in defensively.

  “Skittles’ face is covered in tattoos.” Nikola opens the compact and tests the contents. “But I agree, this is a good brand.”

  Felix glares up at him. “Glad to know you’re a makeup expert as well as a hairdresser.”

  I smack the back of his head. “Stop it. No one’s blaming you for the makeup not working.”

  “I might be blaming him,” Nikola murmurs as he presses on the edge of the compact. The tray with the makeup pops open, and he lifts out a flat, rectangular brush. He uses it to gather up some of the translucent makeup and swipe across Connor’s unmarked cheek. When it shimmers and blends into his skin seamlessly, he frowns. “It works fine. How did you end up with so much discoloration?”

  Realizing what happened, I guiltily tuck my hands behind my back.

  Felix and Connor, great men that they are, point at me in accusation.

  Everyone turns to stare, and I scowl. “How was I supposed to know there was an applicator brush?”

  Nikola snaps the case closed. “You can’t use your fingers to apply this. It set to your skin tone, which is significantly lighter than Connor’s.”

  “In the most beautiful way possible.” Myrrine circles the desk to cuddle up to my side. “You are the fairest of flowers kissed by the sun.”

  “She means your freckles are cute.” Felix pops out of his desk to cleave to my other side. “Which they are. I want to kiss every single one of them.”

  “A delightful way to spend an afternoon,” Myrrine coos. “Each spot should be thanked for bringing attention to Caitlyn’s adorable nose.”

  “Don’t forget the cheeks.” Felix touches my cheekbones. “Like little sparks come to rest.”

  I thrust my hand out toward Nikola. “Give me the damn makeup.”

  “Shh.” Connor holds a finger to his lips. “They’re finally getting along.”

  “They just needed to bond over Caitlyn’s freckles.” Nikola pockets the compact. “Unfortunately, I believe we have an appointment at 1500?”

  “We do!” Reminded of our time constraint, I wiggle out from between Felix and Myrrine. “Nikola and I need to go.”

  “Me, too.” Connor stands, then sways at the sudden change. “I need to lay back down. My head is killing me.”

  Myrrine stares at him with concern. “Should I have Bastian sing you the song of healing? It is most restful.”

  Into the silence that follows that offer, Felix whispers, “I want to see that.”

  “I’m not sure I do.” Connor rubs his temples. “Loud noises sound horrible right now.”

  “It will not hurt, I promise. It is a proven technique among the clans.” Myrrine gestures to her bodyguard, who stands stoically by the door. “And Bastian is known well for his dulcet tones.”

  We all turn to stare at the behemoth in shock.

  Bastian bows toward Myrrine and rumbles, “My lady is too kind.”

  “Bro.” Felix shoves Connor in the shoulder and nearly knocks him over. “Bro, we have to.”

  Nikola reaches past them to grab my hand and pull me to his side. “Do that in Caitlyn’s room while we take care of business.”

  At that, Felix spins to face us, clearly conflicted over joining Connor versus preventing me from being alone with Nikola. But curiosity must win because he nods a grudging agreement.

  Glad to know he’ll risk my honor so he can watch the halion giant sing at his brother.

  Slightly annoyed, I settle my satchel at my hip. “Yeah, let’s go. We’ll check in on you before dinner.”

  Nikola drops my hand to slip his arm along my back, his palm hot on my hip, and draws me toward the exit before anyone can protest. It brings me closer to his side, his subtle scent invading my senses, and my heart trips at this new level of intimacy. He’s growing more confident by the day, but I can’t bring myself to reject him. It feels good to walk next to him, familiar yet unknown as the bonds of a childhood spent together mingle with the attraction of our adult selves.

  It’s becoming harder and harder to resist Nikola’s advances, and I’m not sure I even want to anymore. He’s more than proven he’s on our side, and he doesn’t argue for me to cut Felix, Connor, and Declan out. He’s intelligent and knowledgeable of the political minefield I’ll enter once I take my council seat. Letting him go would only hurt me.

  We reach the door that leads out to the courtyard, and he steps ahead, hi
s fingers trailing over my back. They leave a fire of awareness behind, and I resist the urge to draw his arm back around me as we walk down the stairs side-by-side. His steps match mine perfectly, so every time his knuckles graze my arm, I know the touch is purposeful, stoking the burn beneath my skin. His almost-touches leave me just as aware as his bolder moves in a skillful dance of seduction.

  We walk the circle toward the dorms in a silence that only heightens my awareness of the warmth from Nikola’s arm at my side, the steady pound of my pulse, and the eventual destination that will land us alone in his room for the first time.

  Nerves make my palms sweaty, and I remind myself of why we’re heading there now. We have a mission to accomplish, and a small window of freedom to do so. I can’t let myself be distracted by the flutters in my stomach or the way my skin buzzes with the need to touch him.

  The sharp tap of heels on stone pull my head up.

  Dean Kauffman strides toward us from the dormitory, and my heart pounds for another reason altogether. Why would she be at the dorms? It’s not a place she usually visits.

  Her sharp eyes meet mine, then flicker to Nikola, and she gives a small nod of approval before she passes us by.

  Reminded all over again that my father chose Nikola as a partner for me, my gut clenches.

  I’ve spent so long resisting what my father wants me to be. Now that I accepted my future role as First Councilor, my father’s won his heir. The knowledge hurts, but I won’t run from the destiny set before me any longer. I must take the council seat prepared for me if I want to achieve my new dreams.

  But what other concessions will I make in the future in order to stay on this path? How do I untangle Nikola from my father’s expectations? Accepting Nikola because I want him doesn’t mean I’ll become the perfect doll my father desires, but it will be one more win in his books.

  I need to stop basing my decisions on what my father wants or I’ll lose out on what I want while blindly running in the opposite direction.

  As we reach the stairs to the dorms, Nikola’s hand touches my back. Lost in thought, I unconsciously sidestep to avoid the distraction his touch brings.

  He freezes on the stairs, and I walk ahead a few paces before turning to look back. He stares down the path the way the Dean went, a tight expression on his face.

  I walk back down a step. “Nikola?”

  When he faces me, his Secretary mask slides into place and a pang of regret echoes through me. Without a word, he jogs ahead of me to open the door without any of the teasing caresses from moments before.

  Uneasy, I stride past him into the dorms.

  Is this what it would be like if Nikola remained my secretary without the romantic side as he once offered to? I’ve gotten so used to him being open with his emotions, bantering with the guys, pushing his limits with me, that to see him revert now physically hurts.

  I’ve been so stupid, thinking I was keeping Nikola separate from how I feel about Connor, Felix, and Declan. My heart already decided, it just took my mind longer to catch on.

  We walk up to the second floor and down the hall to his room in silence, but gone is the simmering awareness of a moment ago. This feels more like what my father and his secretary have. Polite respect, but a firm acknowledgment of social place. Nikola lets me walk a step ahead, only passing me when we reach his door.

  I can just as easily open it myself, but propriety has him do it for me.

  At that moment, I decide I really dislike propriety.

  As soon as we enter his room, he goes to the desk and pulls out the folding-port. When I glance inside before he shuts it, our contraband appears untouched and some of the tension eases away. Whatever the Dean’s reason for being here, it wasn’t to raid Nikola’s room while we were gone.

  Nikola sets the device on the desktop and settles into the chair in front of it. “What are we doing? I assume it involves hacking into someplace we don’t belong?”

  His tone stays polite and even, ready to do a job, and I dislike that, too. I step up behind him, my hand resting on the back of his chair. “House Arrington. Dominick’s business correspondence from the week before the party.”

  Nikola’s fingers pause over the keyboard. “Is that wise?”

  I grip the chair tighter. “He has a meeting at 1500. His accounts will be open.”

  He twists to stare up at me in surprise. “How do you know that?”

  “After you left this morning, I discovered one of the recordings revealed that Dominick’s young lover was less than enamored of him.”

  His brows lift. “And you used that to gain access to these files?”

  I meet his dark eyes. “And to ensure Declan is allowed to return to APA soon.”

  His expression shuts down further. “So, you’ll have all your men back in one place. They’re a good team.”

  I search his blank face. “Yes, they all are.”

  “That’s good.” He turns back to face the monitor. “I’m glad you’re getting everything you desire.”

  I study his silky black hair. The light from the holo-window pulls out inky blue highlights, making it look smooth and soft. When we were kids, I was jealous of how straight the strands are, how easily they fall into place.

  Once, I dumped an entire pot of Grandmother’s medicinal syrup on his head hoping the sticky substance would turn it into knots and force them to shave it all off.

  In retaliation, he deleted the lesson plan I’d worked all week on.

  We’d both gotten in trouble, our nanny was fired, and Mr. Purnell, the Lonette family butler, babysat us for a week while a replacement was found.

  Giving in to the urge, I skate my fingers through the fine strands at the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you were one to run so easily.”

  He stills, fingers motionless on the keyboard. “What did the Dean say to turn you against me again?”

  I trace the collar of his shirt. “She reminded me you’re my father’s choice.”

  His head turns slightly, tension in the line of his shoulders. “That’s one thing I can’t change. And it seems it will always leave my motives in question.”

  My fingers return to his hair. “I talked to Myrrine about you.”

  “Oh?” Slowly, his fingers move over the keyboard.

  “I said that if I weren’t born into the Lonette family, you wouldn’t have looked twice at me.” I pause, but he continues to type, words and symbols filling the screen that hold no meaning to me. “She pointed out that if I weren’t born into the Lonette family, I wouldn’t be me and our paths would never have crossed. The same goes for Declan, Connor, and Felix. We are who we are, and that can’t be changed. I can’t continue to say he has nothing to do with who I am while holding him against you. However much he favors you, he doesn’t make you who you are any more than he makes me who I am.”

  His typing speeds up. “And who am I?”

  With his focus on the screen, it makes it easier to admit, “An amazing, driven man, far too intelligent to be someone’s servant.” My gaze shifts to the pyramid of jars filled with colored liquid and the leaves woven into shapes on his wall. “Someone who sees beauty where others see cast-offs. Someone open to debate, willing to learn new things. Ever evolving, ever-changing, bending when it’s needed, but holding firm when it counts.”

  In a fluid motion, Nikola rises from the chair and turns to pull me against his chest.

  Startled, I stare up at him. “What about the files?”

  “Already copying.” His hand tangles in my hair.

  I fist his shirt over his chest, my heart hammering. “So fast.”

  “As you said, he left the door open.” His fingers tighten in my hair, pulling my head back. “Last chance to run, Caitlyn. I won’t back down again.”

  I lick my lips. Everywhere he touches me burns. “I didn’t ask you to back down last time.”

  His head dips closer. “But you weren’t sure you wanted me last time.”

  “I want you, Nikola,
” I breathe against his lips.

  Together

  Nikola's lips crash against mine with unapologetic hunger, dominating and all consuming. Boneless, I let him take my weight as my arms wind around his neck, and I give myself wholly to him. We've spent so long circling each other, dancing around this moment, that a whimper of relief rises from my throat and trickles past my lips for Nikola to consume.

  He answers with a low growl as he pulls me tighter against his hard length, creating a cage with his body that I have no desire to escape. Now that I'm here, with his hand tight in my hair and his arm banded around my waist, I curse myself for waiting so long. This feels right where we were always meant to be.

  Nikola's tongue thrusts past my lips to lay claim to every part of my mouth, and I tremble in his hold, my knees weakening. My pulse races to push blood to all my sensitive places, his skillful touch building the blaze under my skin. My nipples harden against his chest as warmth pools between my legs.

  His hardening cock nudges against my stomach, and I rise onto my toes in an attempt to align us, but our height difference won't allow it. Without taking his mouth from mine, Nikola's hands drop to my ass, and he lifts me from the ground. His palms shift to my thighs to direct my legs around his slender hips, and I gasp against his lips as pleasure zaps through me.

  Everywhere our bodies touch turns electric, and my eyes flutter open, half-expecting to see sparkles in the air around us.

  Instead, Nikola's half-open eyes meet mine, liquid black and filled with desire. My heart stutters, new warmth suffusing my body. Did he never close his eyes? Has he watched every emotion that flickered over my face?

  The knowledge excites me, and my hands delve through the silky strands of his hair, my mouth moving against his as I hold his intense gaze. The way he watches me heightens my desire. There's no hiding in the bright lights of his bedroom, no disguising what we feel.

  Slowly, I pull back, my gasps mingling with his. His hands tighten their hold, unwilling to let me escape, but I have no intentions of stopping here.

  My fingers find his face, tracing the gentle swoop of his eyebrow and the hard line of his jaw. "Were you always this beautiful?"