Page 11 of Saint
She fidgets with her pen, twirling it between her slender fingers, the silver tip catching the café light with each rotation. Her teeth graze her bottom lip, leaving it momentarily bloodlessbefore it flushes pink again. “Study, mostly. Hang out with my roommate.” A pause hangs between us like delicate crystal. “It sounds boring when I say it out loud.”
"It does,” I agree, my voice a dark rumble, not bothering to soften the truth with the sugar coating other men would offer. Her cornflower blue eyes widen slightly at my bluntness, pupils expanding until only a thin ring of color remains. “I think we need to change that.”
"We?” she echoes, her voice catching on the word like silk snagging on rough hands. A flush creeps up her neck, staining that delicate skin I want to mark with my teeth.
“Unless you’d rather keep living in that bubble of yours.” I lean back, creating space between us. A test. The movement pulls my shirt tight across my chest, and her eyes drop to follow it, lingering where the fabric strains against muscle.
She immediately leans forward, closing the distance again, her breasts pressing against the edge of the table. “No. I want—” She catches herself, lowers her voice to a whisper that feels like a tongue against my ear. “What did you have in mind?”
I smile, slow and deliberate, letting her see the predator beneath the polished exterior. “How about dinner? Tomorrow night. I know a place where no one will recognize the Governor’s daughter.” My eyes drop to her mouth, watching as she unconsciously wets her lips with the pink tip of her tongue.
Her eyes dart across the café, and I follow her gaze to a girl sitting alone at a distant table, pretending not to watch us. The roommate, I assume. Playing bodyguard while Lily plays with fire, unaware of how thoroughly I plan to burn her.
"I’d have to lie about where I’m going,” Lily says, turning back to me, her teeth catching on her plump bottom lip, leaving behind the faintest impression.
“Yes,” I agree, my voice a low, velvet-wrapped blade. “You would.”
The moment stretches between us, electric and dangerous as a live wire in water. I can see the battle playing out across her expressive face—the Governor’s dutiful daughter warring with the woman aching to taste forbidden fruit. Her pupils dilate until those cornflower blue eyes are nearly black, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths beneath that pristine cashmere.
“Seven o’clock,” I say, making the decision for her, watching her shoulders relax at having the choice taken away. I pull out my phone, the matte black case a stark contrast against my tanned fingers. “Give me your number.”
She recites it without hesitation, each digit falling from her lips like a promise, and I send her a text so she has mine. Her phone vibrates on the scarred wooden table between us, the screen illuminating with my name.
“I have a meeting,” I say, standing to my full height, towering over her delicate frame. A lie, but I need to leave her wanting more, imagining what comes next. "I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Not at in front if your place—too many eyes. Text me somewhere nearby.”
She nods, looking dazed.
I lean down, my lips brushing the delicate shell of her ear, inhaling the intoxicating scent of jasmine and innocence. “Wear something nice,” I murmur, my voice a dark promise against her flushed skin. “Not pink. Something that shows what you’re hiding under all that cashmere.”
I straighten and walk away without looking back, feeling her hungry gaze burning into me like a brand. Her roommate is already moving toward her, no doubt ready to warn her about the wolf she’s invited to feast. Too late. The line I’ve crossed isn’t drawn in sand—it’s carved in stone, permanent as sin.
Governor Moore’s daughter. Nineteen years old. A virgin with kiss-swollen lips and eyes that beg to be corrupted.
Mine for the taking, for the breaking, for the remaking.
This is a complication that could destroy everything I’ve built, a risk that makes my blood sing with danger. But as I step out into the cool afternoon air, my cock still hard against my thigh, I realize I don’t give a fuck about the consequences. I want to split her open like ripe fruit and taste what no man has tasted before.
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.
Chapter 9
Lily
I stareat my reflection in the full-length mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at me. The black dress clings to every curve I usually hide beneath sweaters and jeans, the neckline plunging low enough to make my mother faint if she could see me. The hem stops mid-thigh, revealing more leg than I’ve shown in public since... well, ever.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, turning to see how the fabric hugs my ass. I bought this dress on a whim yesterday, slipping into a boutique where no one would recognize the Governor’s daughter, paying cash so it wouldn’t appear on my credit card statement.
My roommate Zoe would call this a death wish. Dad would probably have Luca killed. The thought sends a forbidden thrill through me.
I spritz perfume on my wrists and neck, something heavier and more sensual than my usual light floral scent. The saleswoman had called it “seduction in a bottle” and winked when I blushed. Now I understand why. The smell is dark and rich, like whiskey and vanilla, with a hint of something dangerously adult.
My fingers tremble slightly as I fasten the straps of my new stilettos—four inches of dangerous height I’m not used to. I wobble when I stand, taking a few practice steps across my room. If I’m going to play this game with a man like Luca Ravello, I refuse to do it halfway.
The memory of him in the café yesterday floods back—how he towered over me, his presence filling the room like smoke, suffocating and intoxicating at once. The way his voice dropped when he told me to wear something that shows what I’m hiding. The hunger in his eyes that should have terrified me, but instead made something liquid and hot pool between my thighs.
I grab my phone to check the time. Six forty-five. Zoe thinks I’m at the library, a lie that tasted sour on my tongue but slipped out easily enough. I type a quick message to Luca.
Me: Can you meet me by St. Augustine’s on Lafayette? 7:15?
