Vicious Prince (Royal Elite #5) by Rina Kent

He grabs me by the arm so abruptly I swallow a shriek. “D-don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Startle me. It brings back memories.

Instead of voicing that, I bite my lower lip and adopt my no-nonsense tone. “Touch me. I don’t like it when you touch me.”

“Let me count all the fucks I give.” He pauses, pretending to count with his free hand. “None.”

“Where are you taking me?” I try to wriggle out of his grasp as he drags me down the hall. His strides are so long and quick, and I’m panting to keep up with his pace.

Damn tall people and their legs that go on for freaking miles.

“You fucked up, ma belle, and it’s payback time.”

My breath hitches and his grip on my arm is tingling. Problem is, I can’t figure out why the hell it’s tingling. Is it fear? Anticipation? Or maybe something worse?

Ronan pushes a door open and shoves me inside. I stumble and nearly fall, but I catch myself against the wall for balance as the sound of a lock echoes in the distance like doom.

I swallow, lifting my head to take a quick inventory of the place. Considering the bed with dark sheets, the framed pictures, and the football, this is his room.

Ronan stands with his back against the door and his hand reaching behind him — for the lock he just turned, no doubt.

I force my hands to fall on either side of me so I don’t reveal the tremors plaguing my body.

This is not a real trapping. I can get out at any time.

Any time.

I chant those words in my head over and over again.

“I assume there has been a miscalculation?” He smiles, but now I’m certain he’s hiding a lot of fuckery behind it. “As per our agreement, you were supposed to pay a visit to my father and end the engagement, not play dress-up with my mother.”

“Our agreement?” I scoff. “I don’t remember agreeing to anything.”

“Really?”

“You assumed everything yourself.”

“Does that mean you won’t end it?”

“Absolutely not. And if you threaten me with that picture again, I now have an ally in Charlotte.” I pretend to sniffle. “How do you think she’ll feel if I tell her you took me there by force? I don’t look compliant in that picture.”

His jaw ticks, but his grin widens. I’m starting to think Ronan smiles more when he’s trying to camouflage something. “You think my mother will believe you over her only son?”

“We won’t know until we put her in that position.” I feign care. “She seems like a soft woman — I’d hate to scar her with the fuckery going on in your head.”

He pushes off the door, and something inside me screams at me to run, to bolt, even jump from the window, anything but stand here like prey for the taking.

I’m not prey.

I’ll never be prey again.

Jutting my chin up, I meet his gaze with my tenacious one.

Men don’t intimidate me because I lack that normal streak of shame and embarrassment. However, as Ronan strides towards me, I can’t help the locking at the bottom of my spine or the dancing emotions crawling up my arms.

“And what do you know about the fuckery in my head, ma belle?” He’s still smirking, stalking, making me all too aware of him and his presence.

His overpowering presence. Just like that night at the club.

The only difference is that I see him right now, and that’s probably why I can’t get out of his orbit.

“You still haven’t taken a tour in there, but I’m willing to change that.” He stops in front of me and grabs my chin.

The gesture is soft, almost like a feather’s kiss. His thumb and forefinger take control of my jaw, and just like that, it’s almost like he’s clutching a marionette’s strings.

“Remember what I told you about how you’ll pay?”

“I won’t pay for anything.” I’m surprised by my calm tone.

“Do you honestly think you have a choice?”

“Of course I do. I have a choice in everything.”

His grin disappears, and any attempt he was making to stay normal evaporates in the air surrounding us.

Everything turns heightened — the rise and fall of my chest, the heat radiating off him, his smell like spice and fucking damnation. He’s all I breathe, all I see, and all I can focus on.

I don’t attempt to free myself from his clutch. I’m that marionette ready to be moved, to be controlled, to be completely at his mercy.

Snap out of it, Teal. This is Ronan — a pawn, not a fantasy.

“I thought you didn’t like touching your fiancée, the title bothering you and all that,” I try in my most neutral tone. This is the last chance I have to get rid of whatever influence he has on me.

“I lied.”

“What?”

“Or rather, I changed my mind.”

“You can’t change your mind.”

“Of course I can.” He glides his index finger over the curve of my jaw as his thumb rubs my lower lip. “Now, I’m curious about something.”

I clamp my mouth shut, but he shoves his thumb between them and presses on my lower lip then smears my lipstick like he did that first time he touched me at the library.

Just like then, a tremor shoots through my body — only this time, there’s something more potent, something dangerous.