Cruel King (Royal Elite #0) by Rina Kent

The reason I didn’t tell him is because I feel cowardly and weak.

“I’m going to see if Sarah has some smoothie left.” Dan pats my shoulder one last time and saunters inside before I can stop him.

Damn Dan. I hope Sarah doesn’t have any smoothie for him.

It hits me then that I’m all alone with Levi.

The same Levi who terrorised me yesterday.

My courage from earlier withers away, and I’m back to the helpless fool from yesterday.

I gulp, doing everything in my might to avoid his gaze, despite the holes he keeps digging in my face.

“Your father didn’t tell you not to mingle with Cliffords?”

“I don’t have a father,” he says casually. “But my uncle warned me.”

“Then why didn’t you listen?” I peek at him through my lashes.

His eyes spark with pure trouble. “I’m not good at listening to warnings.”

“Then be my guest.” I can’t help the sarcasm in my voice. “I’d love to see Dad’s reaction when he finds you here. We have Grandfather’s shotgun that hasn’t been used in a long time.”

I flop on the lounge chair and snatch a cold bottle of water. My gaze gets lost in the blueness of pool, pretending he doesn’t exist.

Easier said than done.

His presence fills the space and ripples with something uncomfortable and pulling at the same time.

“Harsh, princess.”

A shadow looms over my sitting position, blocking the afternoon sun and sucking the air from my vicinity like a grim reaper.

My gaze slides up his body to the pressed uniform trousers with both hands in his pockets. His messenger bag is flung across his broad chest and rests on his side. I can’t help pausing at the way his team’s jacket stretches over his developed shoulders like a second skin.

I stop when I finally reach his face.

People as evil as Levi shouldn’t be born with such a sinfully attractive face. Why do they get everything when they’re supposed to be less than nothing?

“Harsh?” I spit out. “I’ve been in two near-death situations because of you. How about that for harsh, King?”

“First of all, I had nothing to do with your first near-death situation. You can’t blame me for all your misfortunes just because you’re bitter.”

“You sure didn’t stop it.”

“I’m not exactly privy to the future, princess.”

“Anyone with enough decency would’ve helped me that day.”

“I’m not sure if you noticed, but I don’t have any of that decency.”

“Yeah, I learnt that the hard way.” I jerk my head away from him and take a long swig of my water. But even the cold liquid doesn’t soothe my burning insides.

“About the second time…” he speaks in a low tone. “If I had a repeat, I would’ve done it differently.”

My gaze snaps to his, expecting to find mockery, but there’s only that hardened light blue gaze.

The fire that’s been brewing inside me weans down in one brutal go.

“Is that an… apology?”

He says nothing. Instead, he flops beside me, crowding my space and filling my nostrils with his sinful masculine, clean scent.

It’s crazy how much he exudes self-confidence. It’s like an inseparable part of who he is.

What he is.

Does he ever question himself?

He’s everything I’m not and I hate him for it.

I hate how much he can get under my skin when I’m supposed to push him the hell away.

“What’s that?” He motions at my other side.

I scramble to close the sketchpad before he can catch a full glimpse of himself on that drawing.

“Shouldn’t you be leaving?” I jerk my chin at him.

“Shouldn’t you be more hospitable?” he shoots back with a slight tilt in his lips.

“I hate you, Levi. The mere sight of you makes me want to throw up. You already proved your point, and I’m done playing, so leave me the hell alone.” I’m panting after my outburst, but I keep my chin high.

“You’re done, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s not worth it anymore.”

“Here’s the thing, princess. You might be done…” His lips inch impossibly close to my ear until hot breaths tickle along my skin. “But I’m not.”

A shudder draws down my spine at the rumble of his voice coupled with the heat of his words.

My grip tights on the bottle of water as if I’m stopping my hands from doing something. What, I don’t know.

“What the hell do you want from me?” I’m glad my voice doesn’t crack like my insides.

“Your fire.” His lips graze the lobe of my ear and a zap of shivers shoot through my body. “Your fight.” His voice drops to a low, tingles-inducing range. “Your everything.”

His arm wraps around my midsection, drawing me to the curve of his side as if I’ve always belonged there.

As if this is the most natural place to be.

I briefly close my eyes at his contagious body-warmth. It’s like being thrown into a fire pit and enjoying every second of the burn.

How can a cold, merciless psycho have such warmth?

I’m too hazy to think straight, but then I remember how much I hate said psycho. That not twenty-four hours ago, he drove me to the edge of insanity. He can’t erase that by pretending to pull me back to safety.