Page 100 of The Princess Trap
Thank you for reading Cherry and Ruben’s romance.Want more?Join my VIP newsletter to receive their bonus epilogue straight to your inbox.
Loving the Midnight Heat universe?You can grab The Fake Boyfriend Fiasco, another spicy, fake relationship romance, now.
Want to meet anotherobsessed hero forced to live with (and pine after) his badass heroine?Read on for a sneak peek at The Roommate Risk…
The Roommate Risk
He saw her on a Monday.
He’d gone home for the weekend, to reassure Mum that he was still alive and hadn’t lost any weight, or contracted any life-threatening illnesses, since last month.
But on Monday, he returned to university and went to his usual spot in the library—second floor for accounts and finance, at the back, by the windows that wouldn’t open, just tofeellike he was getting fresh air.
And there she was. In his seat, actually.
But of course, no-one owned library seats. Rahul just liked to stick to his routine.
He sat a few rows away and wasted an hour staring at her. At first, he told himself he was actually staring in longing at his seat, which she’d stolen, but that was a terrible lie. He knew from the start that he was staring at her.
And she was staring out of the window, her hair a dark cloud around her face. It was a pretty face. That wasn’t why he stared, though.
He stared because she was sexy. Sexy like Marilyn Monroe or Sridevi. When she raised her arms in a languid, lazy stretch, it was sexy. When she wrapped a springy curl around her finger, it was sexy. Fuck, when she stared blankly out of the damn window, it was sexy. He’d never seen raw sex appeal in person. He told himself that studying it closely was academic.
The rest of the accounting floor seemed to agree. They were staring, too. But she didn’t notice, or if she did, she must not care. Because she kept shamelesslynotstudying, and kept being sexy. He suspected she couldn’t help the last part.
“Jasmine Allen.”
Rahul turned at the whisper, delivered with the kind of smug bite that suggested bad news was forthcoming. Luke Schnaigl, from his Financial Management seminar, had come to sit beside Rahul at some point in the last hour. He hadn’t even bloody noticed.
Rahul raised his brows, leaned in close and whispered, “What?”
Whispering in a library was an Olympic sport. Trying to out-silence silence whilenotbeing silent took practice and dedication. Rahul was shit at it.
But Luke was okay. “The girl,” he murmured. “That’s Jasmine Allen.”
Rahul’s gaze slid back, inevitably, to her.Jasmine. Yes, he decided. It suited her. But Allen? He wasn’t sure. Jasmine Khan would sound much better.
Not because Khan was his last name. He was just spitballing.
Since Luke seemed to expect a response, Rahul whispered, “She’s pretty.”
Jasmine Allen looked away from the window. She looked right at him. She smirked.
Rahul felt his cheeks heat. He raised a hand self-consciously to his hair, stopped himself, and pulled off his glasses instead. Now she was just a blur, and he couldn’t see the sharp amusement in those dark, dancing eyes. But he could still feel her gaze. Fuck.
Beside him, Luke released a little huff of laughter. “Careful, mate. If you give her a reason, she’ll eat you alive.”
Rahul snorted, cleaning his glasses needlessly on the hem of his T-shirt. “What are you, the student body’s fucking tour guide?”
“Just looking out for you. Everyone knows Jasmine Allen. But I know you don’t get out much. Thought I should warn you.”
Rahul’s lips compressed. “Warn me about what?”
“She’s a look-but-don’t-touch kind of girl. For guys like us, anyway.”
“And what does that mean?” Rahul put his glasses on again and was relieved to find that Jasmine had returned to the window. Relieved, and yet a little deflated. In the instant he’d had her gaze, he’d been as alive as he was embarrassed.
There was something powerful in her attention. He supposed that was part of the sex appeal.
