Glass Castle Prince Read online

  “Guilty,” I said, rising to stand.

  “I can’t believe that was you. I was so pissed I lost to a girl—a younger girl at that. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mad over losing in my life.” Theo appraised me with new eyes as we continued down the path. “I’m seriously tempted to challenge you to a rematch right now.”

  “You might want to reconsider that urge.” I kicked a loose branch off of the path.

  “Why’s that?”

  “I swim a 4-minute-52-second 800 free.”

  Theo gave a low whistle. “How about we get back to botany instead?”

  When I laughed, he stared at me.

  “We should head back,” I said. “I can’t leave the place unattended for too long. I don’t trust that someone won’t try to make a sport out of sledding down the grand staircase or shooting skeet with the queen’s fine china.”

  Theo jogged to catch up with me. “I can’t believe you’re that girl.”

  “You say that with so much . . . conviction.” I shot him a look.

  “I’ve never spent so much time thinking about a girl as I have you.” He moved close enough our arms brushed as we walked. “It’s like . . . fate or something brought us back together a decade later.”

  “Fate, eh?” My gaze tipped up. “Maybe the stars aligned too?”

  “You’re making fun of me.”

  My nose wrinkled. “A little.”

  He slid his hands into his front pockets as we climbed the front steps. “Good. I’d hate to think you were going easy on me.”

  “No chance of that.”

  “So where do you get to stay in this fortress?” Theo asked, pulling the door open for me.

  “I’m on the third floor, in the west wing,” I half-shouted to speak above the music. From the looks of things, everything was still under control. No lords hanging from the chandelier; no duchesses balancing priceless vases on their heads.

  Theo leaned in so he didn’t have to yell. “That sounds so ominous.”

  “The most ominous thing up there is the grandfather clock outside my room. Every night at midnight, it gongs twelve times.”

  “Like clockwork.” Theo winced at his corny pun, but it made me smile.

  “Exactly.”

  Theo glanced at the stairway. “I’d love to see this clock that has the nerve to keep the correct time.”

  “It’s really not that exciting,” I said, gauging if he was being serious.

  He leaned in closer, like he was about to tell me a secret. “I’m more counting on the company to be exciting.”

  Goose bumps erupted along my spine, though I did my best to play it cool. “Not sure I can guarantee that.”

  Theo looked from the party to me. “I like my chances.”

  Biting my lip, I made a decision. “Right this way.”

  I started up the stairs. He followed, staring at me with a look that had my stomach feeling as though a dozen fists were pulverizing it from the inside.

  We remained quiet as we climbed the stairs to the third floor. My mind though was anything but quiet. Here was this guy, probably the cutest one my baby blues had ever seen, following me up some stairs, quite possibly into me. I knew we’d just met and knew basically zilch about each other, but there was something there . . .

  I was really hoping this private stroll was going to end with a kiss. It had been a long time since I’d been kissed, and locking lips with a guy like Theo Hamilton was definitely the way to end a long, long dry spell.

  “So why would a smart, athletically superior young woman decide to work in an empty estate for eight months?” Theo asked once we stepped onto the third floor.

  “Reasons.”

  We turned toward the west wing. It was dark up there, only the glow from the moon streaming through the windows to illuminate the vast spaces.

  “Would these reasons have anything to do with a guy?”

  My forehead creased. “Definitely not.”

  He nodded. “Is there a special someone in your life?”

  “Unless you’re referring to my old tabby at home, then no, there’s no special someone.”

  He motioned at me. “Come on. A girl like you? I bet you’ve got at least a dozen guys cued up waiting for their shot.”

  “Not even close.” I set my empty glass on the nearby hall table. On top of a sheet so it wouldn’t leave a water ring. “I could count on one hand the number of guys I’ve kissed in my life.”

  The way he was looking at me changed from curiosity to interest. “Which means the ones you’ve done more with is . . . ”

  “Considerably fewer.” My face twisted when I realized what I was basically admitting. “I’m saying too much, aren’t I?”

  “No way.” He wet his lips. “I like inexperience. I prefer it.”

  I gave a sarcastic huff. “What’s not to like about a green twenty-year-old, right?”

  Theo leaned in as though he were about to confess a secret. “I like knowing another man hasn’t been where I am. Touched what I’m touching.” The skin on my neck prickled where his breath fogged across it. “Made a girl feel the way I’m making her feel. It’s a total turn-on.”

  I had to give myself a second to recover. “You don’t have any problem stating your mind, do you?”

  “Never. Want to know what I’m thinking now?”

  “I’m feeling daring. Why not?”

  He smiled as he took a sip of his drink. “I’m wondering if you’re available.”

  “That depends on how you mean available.” I focused on the floor, fighting a smile. “There are all kinds of connotations where the term available is concerned.”

  I stopped beside the grandfather clock he’d been so interested in seeing. But now that we were here, all he could do was stare at me. Theo’s eyes seemed to shine silver from the moonlight, shadows enhancing the sharp lines of his face.

  He set his glass down, never taking his focus from me. Theo moved closer in such a way that had me backing up until I was pressed into the wall. My lungs failed to cooperate when his eyes dropped to my lips.

  “Right now, at this present moment, I want to know if you’re available to be kissed.”

  His voice was low, gravelly almost, and the scent of his cologne was messing with my senses in ways that had me wanting to offer more than just a kiss. My knees were becoming gelatinous, the rest of my skeleton seeming to follow.

  “Only one way to find out,” I answered, surprising myself.

  One of his hands curved around my back, the other fastening over my hip. He pushed closer, our frames locking together in the kind of way that had my heart speeding up. He hadn’t kissed me yet, but my body was acting as though we were a couple of thin layers of material away from being naked. Maybe I’d underestimated the effect that dry spell had had on me.

  My arms were locked at my sides, not that I knew what to do with them if they’d been free to explore. I seemed to remember my hands settling into a chest, or maybe capping around shoulders, tying behind a back . . . but something about being close to Theo made nothing feel natural. I had to concentrate just to breathe, let alone figure out where to put my hands.

  The instant his lips touched mine, I froze. Every muscle in my body.

  If Theo noticed, he didn’t show it. He continued to kiss me, his hands kneading at me in hungry, urgent pulses, until I regained sensation in my body. When I kissed him back, it felt wrong, as though I were a beat or two behind, struggling to catch up.

  God, it was as though I’d forgotten how to kiss. I felt like a floundering noob while this godlike creature kissed me as one would expect a deity to kiss.

  When he pulled away a minute later, he was breathing almost as hard as I was, which I took as a sign that he had enjoyed himself in some capacity.

  “I take that as a yes,” he whispered, his words uneven from his breathing.

  “What?” was the only response I could manage. I was lucky to still be upright and conscious.

  “That you’
re available for me to kiss.” His mouth brushed mine once more, his tongue dragging down the seam of my lips.

  My head bobbed as his hands dropped to connect with mine.

  His gaze roamed to the door beside us. “This must be your room.”

  “The clock gave it away, didn’t it?” I teased, regaining my breath a little at a time. It helped that the whole of his body was no longer pinning me against a wall.

  “Actually, I can sense an ethereal presence behind this door. That’s what gave it away.” He laughed when I frowned.

  “It’s a good thing you’re so cute,” I said, deepening my frown when he kept laughing. “Because your pick-up lines suck.”

  “Am I cute enough you’re going to let me see your room?” He made this adorable, ridiculous puppy-dog face when I shook my head.

  “It’s just the room I’ve been sleeping in the past week. It’s not my actual bedroom.”

  He combed my hair behind my ear. “I’d still like to see it.”

  “Why?”

  “One’s bedroom says more about them than any number of conversations are likely to garner.”

  “But this isn’t my bedroom.”

  “Then you can fill in the blanks by telling me who you are.” Theo kissed me again, deeper this time, his hand weaving behind me to open the door. “Or you can show me,” he rumbled against my lips as the click of the door opening sounded.

  I freaked. Internally. Hardcore.

  I couldn’t keep up with him in the kissing category while we were vertical, hands in PG-rated territory. There was no way I wouldn’t look like a naïve good girl if we took it to the next level of making out, probably horizontal on my bed, definite tongue action, probable groping-slash-petting PG-13 territory.

  Theo backed through the door into my dark room, but before I could issue any kind of objection, someone beat me to it.

  “The party’s wrapping up.” The familiar voice seemed to boom down the cavernous hall. “Time to leave, Theo.”

  His mouth turned to stone, along with the rest of his body. Theo guided us back out into the hall, taking a few breaths. “I didn’t realize there was an eviction time.”

  Edward’s eyes locked on Theo’s. “I won’t hold it against you.”

  “I’ve worn out my welcome.” Theo shrugged before pulling me against him and kissing me in a way that was not brief or chaste. “Can I see you again?”

  The only response I was capable of was a nod.

  “Until next time then.” His breath was warm on my cheek, his fingers curling into me a little deeper, before he let go all at once.

  I sort of collapsed into the wall behind me as Theo sauntered down the hall, ignoring the way Edward was frowning at him.

  “Thanks for the party, Edward.” When Theo went to clap his shoulder, Edward took a decisive step back.

  Long after Theo’s footsteps had stopped echoing down the stairway, Edward lingered, a silent sentinel.

  “What?” I asked at last, knowing he had something he was dying to say.

  His jaw ground, biting something back, but it didn’t stay buried for long. “I’m realizing how much you downplayed your level of experience with me earlier.”

  His cutting tone had me automatically on the defensive. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because you were just about to let some guy you met an hour ago into your bedroom.” His arm lifted in the direction of my room, his voice echoing around me.

  “He wanted to see it,” I answered as calmly as I could, trying not to get pissed at the future owner of the residence I was currently residing in.

  Edward huffed. “He wanted to see you.”

  Heat flooded my body. “We were only kissing, Edward.”

  “Only because I interrupted, Charlotte.” He mocked me with the same tone I’d thrown at him.

  “I know what I’m doing.” I exhaled, backing into my room. “I’m not naïve.”

  He huffed as he turned down the hall. “Then stop acting like it.”

  Chapter 7

  I avoided him the whole day.

  Edward might not have had any right to tell me what I could do or with whom, but a part—a small, tiny part—of me appreciated him looking out for me. As a single child, I’d never had an older brother sticking his nose in my business or chasing off boys who dared come within arm’s length.

  Territorial.

  The term Theo had used to describe Edward’s behavior around me flickered to mind. Was he like that? Did he view me as something he had some kind of claim or responsibility to? Did I want him to think of me that way?

  Two boys, and their impressions of me, plagued my mind as I threw some dinner together. I’d become my own worst nightmare.

  “Sorry. Didn’t know you were in here.” Just as abruptly as he’d appeared in the small staff kitchen, Edward disappeared.

  I settled a handful of items from the fridge onto the counter. “It’s okay,” I called. “You don’t have to leave.”

  Edward reappeared in the doorway, inspecting the kitchen floor as though it might have been lined with landmines. “You’re sure? Because you’ve been avoiding me all day.”

  I pasted on a wide smile. “It’s your palace.”

  “It’s my father’s palace.”

  “Which will be yours one day,” I stated as I pulled a fry pan from a cupboard.

  His eyes dropped to the pan, one brow curving up. “You don’t have any immediate plans of beating me over the head with that thing, do you?”

  I glanced from him to the pan before setting it on the stove. For now. “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “You.”

  He ambled into the kitchen while I went to work preparing dinner. I usually skipped breakfast then either had a sandwich or bowl of cereal for lunch, so dinner was the one hot meal a day I cooked.

  “Are you hungry?” From his face, I guessed he was trying to come up with some reason to say he wasn’t. “There’s plenty here. And it’s no more work cooking for two than it is for one.”

  He took a couple more steps inside, watching me form ground beef into patties. “I could eat.”

  “Which means you’re starving.” With my elbow, I pointed at the cupboard that held some spices. “Grab some hamburger seasoning for me.”

  Edward opened the cupboard, but he stared at the contents as though the labels were printed in a foreign language. When he picked one off the shelf—cloves—all I could do was shake my head. For holding such a powerful position, he was kind of a child where everyday life was concerned.

  “Salt, pepper, garlic, onion,” I rattled off, forming the last patty. “That’s a good start.”

  Edward sorted through the cupboard, setting the spices on the counter once he’d found them. I slid the plate of patties his way so he could season them while I washed my hands. He selected the salt first, holding it frozen above the patties.

  “Just give a generous shake of each. You can’t really over-season a hamburger.”

  At that, he upended the salt, sending a stream of granules flooding down.

  “I take that back.” After drying my hands, I slid beside him and whisked the salt shaker from his hand. “A shake. Not a shower.”

  I demonstrated what I meant before handing him the pepper in a leap of faith. Kudos to him, he was a quick learner, and finished seasoning the patties without any other hiccups.

  “Haven’t spent much time in a kitchen, have you?” I asked, no attempt at concealing my sarcasm.

  He set down the garlic once he was done and rolled up his sleeves. “Apparently culinary competency isn’t high on the future ruler list of importance.”

  “It isn’t until you find yourself isolated in some abandoned fortress, ready to chew off your own forearm,” I muttered, making sure he was watching as I lit the burner.

  “But I’m not alone.” He undid the top button of his dress shirt, watching me mill around the small kitchen as though it were a choreographed ballet.

 
“Lucky for you I’m a sucker for a hard luck case, because all of your delivery options are closed and your friends wiped out the chip stores at lunch.” I pointed at the pile of vegetables with my spatula. “Can I trust you with a knife?”

  Edward slid the largest one from the butcher block and rolled a tomato onto the cutting board. “I was practically born with a sword in my hand. I know my way around sharp blades.”

  He sliced through the tomato as though it were an ancient enemy, making me wince the whole time until he finished with all ten fingers still attached. I got back to wincing when he started on the lettuce.

  “That’s weird, don’t you think? Placing so much significance on swordsmanship and fencing and whatever else it is they taught you? Especially when no one in this country has fought in combat with swords in nearly two hundred years.”

  Edward tossed the large knife into his left hand to chop through the onion, just as deftly as he had with his dominant right.

  Show-off.

  “It’s tradition. The very foundation royal families are built upon.”

  The patties hissed as I layered them into the hot pan. “I guess.”

  Once Edward was done slicing the burger toppings, he wandered to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of apple juice. He couldn’t resist smirking at me as he poured a glass.

  I returned the favor when he poured a second glass for himself.

  After he took a sip, I said, “Perfect, right?”

  He was making a face that was difficult to interpret. “Tolerable, barely”

  “I suppose not everyone is mature enough to appreciate a refreshing glass of apple juice.”

  “I think that’s precisely why most of us adults don’t prefer it. Because we have matured,” he replied.

  I waved the spatula at him. “It’s an acquired taste. Kind of like me.”

  Edward inspected me, my hair twisted into two messy, Princess-Leia-like buns, my favorite oversized sweater featuring a dancing llama, along with my rainbow striped toe socks. The corners of his mouth lifted as he took another drink from his glass. “From one acquired taste to another.”