by Mallory Fox
“If that hasn’t soaked your crotch, I don’t know what will.”
I feel my face heat again, so I glance away before either girl notices. How did Seth go from being my forbidden enemy to my forbidden stepbrother in a matter of days—and one that I have an undeniable hate-lust attraction to at that?”
Flick’s eyes widen. “Fuck a duck. Are there any more like that?” She’s practically drooling.
“Loads, knock yourself out.” Charlotte hands Flick her phone and then turns her attention to me. “How long has that V card of yours been hanging up? Don’t you want someone to claim it?”
“No, I don’t. And if I did, I wouldn’t want it to be Seth.”
Because he’s soon going to become my stepbrother and that’s wrong on so many levels.
Charlotte’s nose crinkles. “Why the hell not? He’s handsome and loaded. You can’t act the frigid princess forever.”
“I’m not a frigid princess.” I glare at her. I’ve done everything but the actual main event.
Flick snorts. “She’s definitely not.”
“What are you saving yourself for then? Is he not buff enough or too dark for you? Too geeky? Do want a blond?” Charlotte asks, taking a mouthful of her water.
“Pearl sees her virginity like an investment. If she can hold off selling it for as long as possible, it will be worth more,” Flick says offhandedly, licking her lips while she swipes at Charlotte’s phone.
Charlotte almost chokes on her water and it splashes everywhere. She grins. “What better way to invest than in premium Montford stock?”
I roll my eyes. “Lotts, I’m not marrying a Montford.” My father is already doing that.
She gives me an incredulous look. “You’re really saving yourself for marriage?”
I sigh. “Put it this way, Dad wants me to bring more to the table than just his money.”
Charlotte gives me a pointed look. “Your family is fucked up.”
“He’s also my family’s sworn enemy.” I shrug.
“That just makes him hotter, Pearl. Haven’t you heard of Romeo & Juliet? Plus, he has a thing for you. Why not bag yourself a Montford?”
“Pure speculation… hey, did you both get assigned your classes yet?” I ask, changing the subject, spearing some more salad leaves to nibble on.
But Charlotte continues. “There’s no smoke without fire. He was definitely staring. And just… well, look at him. How could you not want that?”
My eyes drift over to Seth striding across the dining room like he owns the place. She’s got it wrong. “He was just staring because I’m wearing his house pin. He’s an arrogant prick who likes control,” I say.
And he probably has the same clue I do that the shit’s about to hit the fan. There’s no way in hell Seth Montford doesn’t know.
“Correction,” Charlotte snorts. “He’s arrogant prick who likes you, probably knows what he’s doing in the sack, and has a shitload of stock in a rival company. There’s your difference.” She ticks each item off on her hand.
“Why are you wearing his house pin?” Flick interrupts, finishing off the last of Charlotte’s pastry. I don’t get to answer because Flick, like the ADHD hummingbird she is, flits to another topic in a matter of seconds as she navigates Charlotte’s phone like it’s her own.
“Ooh, listen to this! I know you don’t like reading the gossip columns but according to OK! Magazine, Seth Montford, voted the most promising eligible male single for future generations of women, is a closed book when it comes to dating. No one has confirmed or denied being in a relationship with the Montford heir, but it’s rumored that he’s had five celebrity girlfriends, including 29-year-old pop singer, Lana Langfield, and 35-year-old billionairess, Daisy Templeton, in the last year. Fuck me that’s a lot. And they’re all so old.”
She glances nervously at me. As if I give a toss. “They’re just rumors. Pearl, I reckon you could be the one to bag him for sure. It says here he’s worth at least twenty billion.”
Charlotte’s eyes gleam. “Now that’s the value you want to bring to your father’s exploitation table.”
Both girls look at me at the same time.
“I’m not bagging anyone. And I have my own billions.”
“If you’re not going to fuck him, at least flirt with him a little. Test the waters. I know for sure all three will be at the party next weekend. And it’s been ages since we had some fun.” Charlotte’s eyes practically dance with excitement.
All three will be at the party? That’s news to me.
“You don’t need me to hold your hand. I’ve seen you at work, Charlotte Kingsley-Carmichael,” I chide.
She arches a brow. “Pearl Darlington. You’re the biggest cock-tease we know.”
That makes me scowl.
“Oh, come on, Pearl, give us one good reason he’s not on your conquest list. You don’t have to shag him, just get him to give you something to tell the grandchildren. You’re our little heartbreaker, break his cold black heart. You can do it if you put your mind and body to it.” Charlotte laughs.
“Boys like him don’t have hearts,” I say.
“True,” says Charlotte, “but they do have huge cocks.”
“And talented tongues,” Flick adds.
“Fine, fine I’ll come to the party, but if my drink gets spiked and I get pregnant by some asshole with mommy issues who wants to prenup his fortune and not mine, I’m blaming you both.”
Flick beams at me. “That’s what the pill is for.”
“Or anal,” Charlotte smirks.
I roll my eyes but inside I’m mentally preparing myself to do what’s necessary. This might be my chance to get close to my new stepbrother and find out what he knows. And since no one, not even the Coldhart house captain, has bothered to even pull me up about wearing the Coldhart pin, a badge that gets you special privileges as one of the top students at Ravenwood…
It might be my only chance.
It’s not.
It turns out Advanced Business Studies on Thursday evening is the one elective class that Seth and I share. As I finish walking down the path that runs through the sports fields and connects with the orangery where the class is supposed to be, I spy him leaning casually against the wall outside the classroom.
I don’t falter or hesitate. I keep walking despite being tired, my heels echoing off the concrete until it’s too late to turn back.
Ravenwood campus is so spread out that some classes require students to be chauffeured between buildings. It just so happens, Thursday night is such a busy night that not one car was available to take me to the sports field cluster, so I had to walk. I didn’t even have time to stop at my locker. The heavy books from double science are still cradled in my arms, making this whole effort painful. It’s been such a long, shitty day of ignoring students whispering, and the longest walk ever to get here on time, that I’m not missing it.
And Seth is alone.
I can handle that, right?
“Just the two of us? Really?” I say, once I get outside the lonely classroom. There’s no one here but me and Seth. I’m feeling brave and it must show because my nemesis, with his razor-sharp cheek bones and eyes that could slay me with just a look, frowns and sets his jaw as he lifts his head up from the book he’s reading.
He seems to consider my words. “I think you’re lost. This is a private area.”
With his dark, wire-rimmed glasses and a book in hand, wearing the school’s navy slim-cut waistcoat over a white shirt, and a yellow and burgundy cravat, he certainly looks the part of a dashing aristocrat from a Jane Austin novel. I eye the cover of the book from where I’m standing. It’s Scott Fitzgerald's second novel… The Beautiful and Dammed. It’s not one I recall from our reading list, so he must be reading it for kicks.
Or to look smart.
I can’t help but get a good look at him now he has his blazer off and his cravat is loose around his neck. Even the top few buttons are undone enough to let me see the smoothn
ess of his chest.
I know he’s a model. What rich kid isn’t these days? But I wasn’t expecting him to have a super toned body. With his shirt sleeves rolled up on his white cotton shirt, exposing his muscular forearms, the right one which I’m surprised to see is covered in swirls of tattoo ink. I have an intense desire to see if it carries on under his shirt sleeve all the way to his chest, but I suppress it. I can’t be interested in Seth, and I certainly can’t be interested in someone who has tattoos.
At the sight of my stepbrother, something raw inside of me stirs. It’s a feeling I need to ignore but equally don’t want to. I glare at him and make my way over to the classroom, unable to stop the heat of his gaze spreading throughout my entire body.
“I’m here for the advanced class,” I say, yanking at the handle of the orangery door. It doesn’t budge. I put my books on the side ledge and try again.
“You’ll find it’s locked.” He watches me attack the door, making no move to help.
“What do you mean it’s locked? Where’s the teacher?”
“I sent her home.”
It’s my turn to frown. “What do you mean you sent her home? So how do we get in?”
He closes the book and puts it down, and then straightens. No longer leaning, he’s suddenly over a foot taller. Devastatingly gorgeous blue eyes lock onto mine as he takes me in. “You don’t… this is an elective class for—”
I cut in. “—award students, yes I know. Vaughn gave me a pass.”
He blinks at me and strolls over to where I’m standing, until we’re hardly a handspan apart. If I wanted to, I could reach out and run my hands through his hair.
If I wanted to.
I lick my lips, parched all of a sudden.
“Let me say this in a way you’ll understand. Advanced classes are only for those who’ve earned this.” He taps the pin attached to the silk scarf around my neck.
“It’s my father’s,” I say coolly, managing not to flinch or appear flustered. Inside… a different story.
“And this is my school.”
“So?”
His mouth curls up into a smirk. “Every student here wants that badge of honor, strives for it. What makes you so special you can flout the rules? Unless you want to transfer to Coldhart house… but I must warn you, there weren’t any free beds last time I checked.”
“If I recall, the pin stands for ‘prestige’ not just your crappy house emblem,” I snap at him.
He chuckles and the sound of it turns my knees to water. “And all those who make the grade end up joining Coldhart house.”
“And who decides the grade?”
“I do. The house captain.”
The boy is a complete geek. A beautiful geek I’ll admit. Would he still be king if he wasn’t the Montford heir? Most likely.
I scoff. “Of course you do. No, I’m fine where I am, thank you.”
“Are you now? Tell me, did your father send you here to spy on me during negotiations?”
“Now why would he do that?” A knot of anxiety swirls in my gut. He didn’t mention his mother or marriage.
How much does he know?
“You tell me, princess. Rumor has it you’re looking to find weaknesses of mine to exploit.” He steps in toward me forcing me back up into the wall, and looks me up and down, eyes hardening. “Or maybe a secret to blackmail me with.”
Pinning my shoulders back, I toss my head and glare at him. “I’m just here to study.”
“Bullshit,” he says coldly, putting a hand against the wall behind me, trapping me between him and a hallway bookshelf. There’s no handspan between us now, nothing, merely an inch.
My heart skitters, and I almost buckle under the pressure of his gaze. Almost. But I don’t. I force myself to return his look with equal measure, ignoring the flush to my face and the smell of his cologne wrapping around me like a loving embrace.
No doubt he can tell the effect he has on me, which annoys me even more.
“You’re in my space. Please kindly back the fuck off,” I manage, before desire curls down my spine and takes my breathe away at how close he actually is.
The message in his eyes is clear but he says it out loud anyway. “If you know what’s best for you, you’ll fuck off back to your daddy.”
I meet his dark look with a defiant message of my own. “Scared of a little competition?”
“Not from you, princess. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a car waiting,” he says, running his gaze down to my high heels with a smirk. “Enjoy your walk back.”
Bastard.
He turns away to retrieve his books and blazer, ice-blue eyes giving me one last look of contempt, and then walks off to the sports field exit.
“Fuck you,” I hiss at his retreating form
“Anytime, princess, anytime.”
Then he’s gone, leaving me standing alone in the walkway.
I linger on the locked room and then all the way back up to the main building where I’ve walked from. It took me twenty minutes to get here since there weren’t any cars available at the main campus when I left.
I’ve walked all this way for nothing.
How dare he cancel my class.
I whip out my phone and try calling reception but there’s no signal. The sneaky fuck must have known that.
“Fuck it.” I pick my books up off the ledge and race after him, out the side exit door and through the field to the carpark. “Montford. Wait!”
At the far end of the sports stadium car park, Seth stops and watches me over the roof of his car, his blue orbs burning holes in me as I approach. A few students leaving the track are hovering, taking in the drama.
There’s a tightness in my jaw and I’m feeling twitchy, but I suppress it and plaster on a fake enough smile as I hug my books to my chest and catch my breath “If you’re going back to the main campus, you’re giving me a ride.”
He narrows his eyes and cocks his head. “You know that’s not how this works, right?”
“You’re giving me a ride.” I don’t hesitate. Opening the door, I practically throw my books in the back seat and then slide into the passenger side.
The whole time wondering… How it is Seth Montford has the ability to make me all hot and flustered with just one hate-filled, lust-fuelled look?
Chapter 4
Pearl
After a pause, Seth climbs into the driver’s seat and starts up the engine. He doesn’t say a word or look at me as the car roars to life. We speed out of the car park so fast my head sticks to the back of the headrest.
“DB5… nice car. Very James Bond of you,” I say after a long pause.
When he doesn’t speak and clenches and unclenches his jaw a few times, I switch to wanker speak. “I heard the takeover proposal passed the relevant thresholds with the anti-competition commissions.”
“Yes, it has. You’ve been doing your homework.”
I can’t help but smile. Wanker speak works every time. That and fuckboy gym jabber.
“I’m not just a pretty face.”
He raises a brow. “If you’re that smart, you’d be taking my advice.”
I shoot him a dark look. “You really want me out of Ravenwood? Why?”
Come on, say it. Tell me you know about our forthcoming family union!
He doesn’t reply and I can’t be bothered to ask any more cryptic questions, so we drive for at least another minute or two in silence.
Alarm bells start ringing the moment we drive past both our houses and out beyond the school gates and grounds. I sneak a look at Seth who is as unreadable as the stars. Outside, the light is falling, telling me I’ll soon be in a car with Seth driving to fuck knows where in the dark. I stare out the window and try to work out how far, and in what direction, we’ve travelled from Ravenwood, and then give up when I realize I have no idea of the answer.
When we pull onto a dark green lane and race along a single country road for a few miles, my curiosity gets the better of me.
> “Where are we going?”
He exhales. “Since you disrupted my schedule, I’m taking the evening off.”
“So are the rumors true?” I ask, as we pull into the eerie car park of what looks to be dilapidated pub.
“What rumors?”
“That you study all hours into the night and then get up at four am to run ten kilometers every morning?”
“Does this look like study to you?” He gestures to the pub.
Unclipping my seatbelt, I peer at it through the windscreen. “This looks like a lawsuit waiting to happen.”
Seth turns off the engine and looks at me with narrowed eyes. “Take your tie and blazer off.” He leans over to the back seat, grabs something woolen-like and throws it at me. “Put this on.”
What is it with the men I go for always barking orders?
The material is surprisingly soft, and I unravel it to reveal a large navy blue, cashmere sweater.
I roll my eyes. “Are you going to enlighten me as to why?”
“Because we’re students and this a public house. I have an arrangement with the proprietor, but he can’t openly serve us if you’re prancing in there wearing the local school uniform,” he states matter of factly as he tugs off his already loosened cravat and stuffs it into his trouser pocket.
“I don’t prance,” I hiss, and shrug off my own blazer and tie, slipping on the soft sweater afterwards.
I can’t help inhaling the scent of him clinging to the expensive material as I slip it over my head and pull it down over my shirt.
When I look up, Seth is already getting out of the car. I scramble to do the same on the passenger side, rubbing my hands up and down my sleeves at the change in temperature. September in the middle of Hertfordshire is practically winter, and Seth’s sweater has been sitting on a cold leather seat for who knows how long.
