The Peer and the Puppet (When Rivals Play, #1) (7)
Shoulders and arms left bare in the slender white dress, her natural makeup applied with precision, and her dark golden mane was swept into a simple bun. Around her elegant neck, she wore a string of pearls I’d never seen before while matching earrings adorned her ears. Her forced smile died quickly when I simply stared back at her. “I just wanted to see how you were getting on. You haven’t left your room.”
“It’s been a long day.”
She nodded while fidgeting with her pearls. “Thomas arranged for us to have dinner on his boat, but Ever still hasn’t come home.”
I held in my laugh when her cheeks colored. Of course, he wouldn’t bother showing his face. Thomas and Rosalyn were the only two living under the delusion that we’d all be one big happy family.
“I just wanted to say goodnight and tell you the cook set aside some dinner for you if you get hungry.” She started to walk away when I reached out to take her hand.
“Where is he taking you?” Even with a grudge, I couldn’t help feeling protective of her. She was just so goddamn fragile.
Her answering smile was soft and indulgent. “To meet some of his friends.”
“And you’ll be back tonight?”
With a nod, she waved delicate fingers in goodbye. “See you in the morning.”
Only if I don’t decide to hot-wire one of Thomas’s cars.
I watched her strut away on white pumps with red bottoms before I ducked back into my new room.
Fuck my life.
My stomach’s growls and the curiosity I had for my new home amplified until I could no longer ignore them. Free from scrutiny, I decided to put off food a little while longer and explore.
Questions about the fugitive prince had been the hardest to ignore. Maybe that’s why I didn’t keep going like I should have when I reached his door. Hand hovering over the knob, my teeth sunk into my bottom lip—a telling habit I inherited from Rosalyn.
What if he was on the other side?
Pressing my ear to the door, I heard nothing.
For some reason, I wanted on the other side of that door. But how would I explain my obvious snooping if I were caught?
Maybe it won’t be unlocked.
With the promise of only a peek, I took a deep breath and tried the knob.
Of course, it turned.
Taking that as a sign, I pushed open the door far enough for me to…slip inside.
I really should have known better than to trust myself to have control.
Lost in shadows, I dared not move. My only light came from the moonlit sky. As soon as my eyes adjusted, I moved deeper inside. The nightstands on each side of the bed held lamps with metal shades, so I tiptoed to the right and switched on the lamp. The dim glow allowed me to see just enough.
And what a disappointment it was.
Empty and passionless.
The walls were a dark gray, matching the sleek headboard, which had a black shelf built into the wall above it. There wasn’t much occupying the space. A glass jar filled with coins, a full pencil cup, a trophy, and a picture frame. I picked up the trophy to study it closer. It was a football trophy with a guy poised to run. Dated a year ago, the inscription read, Ever “Speed” McNamara and was awarded for the fastest running time in Brynwood history.
I guess we both lived in the fast lane.
Smiling, I set the trophy down. Finding nothing interesting in the pencil cup or jar of coins, I leaned forward to view the picture.
“Shit!” I yelled in a loud whisper. I’d lifted my knee onto the bed without thinking and disturbed the neatly made bed. The dark gray comforter and matching sheets underneath were stretched tight on the other side, an obvious contrast to the wrinkle under my knee. Maybe he won’t notice. Not wanting to disturb the bedding any more than I already had, I stretched until my body strained and peeked at the woman in the photo. Short dark hair curled stylishly around delicate ears, and olive skin glistened under the sun, but somehow, honey golden eyes outshone the sun. The picture was faded and marked with lines where it was once folded, but even then, her beauty was unmistakable. She couldn’t have been much older than her late twenties. Thomas had claimed to not have a daughter… So could this have been his wife?
Feeling as if I were disturbing something sacred, I stood and fixed the sheets as best I could before looking around. I’d never been inside a teenage boy’s room, but shouldn’t there have been smelly socks, Penthouse magazines, and video games lying around or something? There were no posters of busty women adorning the walls. Ever’s room was simply sleek gray lines and cool, crisp smells. I was tempted to peek under the mattress for porn magazines and dirty pictures, but it seemed a little desperate. I wasn’t even sure why I cared so much.
A sleek, silver laptop rested on a desk that blended well with the decor, but other than a few journals and pads, and a tin cup full of pencils, nothing was exciting there, either.
I tiptoed over to his closet and flipped the light switch. Predictably, clean, pressed, and starched, and clothing filled the space. I was, however, surprised to find a pair of dirty cleats sitting in a corner. Blazers, vests, and sweaters of red and navy, each bearing the gold insignia of Brynwood Academy, hung neatly in one section while in the next were black, tan and navy slacks. The shelves had built-in lighting, casting a glow over polished black dress shoes. Pulling out one of the drawers, I found navy and red ties with gold lines crisscrossing the length and matching cuff links.