That was when I noticed the door facing my own.
I hoped it wasn’t another closet. I barely had enough clothes to fill a corner of the first closet. “What’s through there?”
Thomas seemed surprised since it was the first bit of interest I’d shown since arriving, but then he chuckled almost nervously.
“I hope you don’t mind…you’ll be sharing this space with Ever. On the occasions I entertain, I prefer to keep the other bedrooms with more private baths available for guests. On the other side of that door”—he pointed—“is Ever’s room.”
When we first arrived, Thomas said his home had six bedrooms, seven baths, and six half bathrooms, not including the two-bedroom guesthouse. Just how hospitable was he?
“You must throw quite a party,” I answered dryly. Rosalyn had her lip between her teeth again. Still, I waited for her to voice how inappropriate it was to have her sixteen-year-old daughter share a private bathroom with a sixteen-year-old boy—one who was very much a stranger. Instead, she shot me an apologetic look and laid a hand on Thomas’s arm.
“Thomas, honey, where is Ever? I’d love to have Four finally meet him.”
Me.
Not us.
Because she’d already made the prince’s acquaintance.
I wasn’t sure why I felt betrayed, but Thomas’s frown as he looked at his watch was enough to distract me from the emotion. “I’m not sure. He should have been here.” He pulled out his phone and quickly punched a couple of buttons before lifting the phone to his ear and strolling for the door.
The door closed with a soft click, but then I could hear him bellow, “Get home now,” in his thick northern accent. Rosalyn faced me with a hand on her chest and eyes wide.
“I hope you’ll be comfortable here, Four.” Because why be happy when you can settle for wealth?
“You don’t need to talk to me like I’m a guest, Rosalyn. This is my home now, remember?” Thomas’s words thrown back at her caused her to drop the Stepford act.
“I’ve had enough of your attitude. You made the choices, young lady, and now Thomas just wants to help.”
My lip curled slightly. “I’m sure.” I threw myself down on the bed and sighed when my body sunk into the plush mattress. Eternal resentment aside, this bed was the shit.
I swept the room with a careful eye—sheer curtains that welcomed twilight, a cream cushioned bench at the foot of my bed, white writing desk complete with a matching chair, and an oval floor-length mirror with LED lighting.
All the appropriate trappings for the newly found princess.
I snorted.
Rosalyn lingered, likely wondering how long before I messed this up for her.
“You don’t need to worry,” I said while staring at the twinkling chandelier, “I know what’s at stake.”
Moments later, I was blissfully alone.
I hadn’t realized I’d fallen asleep until a knock on my door woke me. I checked my phone and saw that only an hour had passed.
“Four?”
I smirked at the hesitant note in Rosalyn’s voice. As usual, she wanted to avoid me as much as I did her. I rolled until my dirty, worn chucks hit the floor, then strolled over to open the door. Rosalyn Archer could turn heads in sweatpants and a ratty T-shirt—not that she’d ever be caught dead—but she was absolutely breathtaking when set to stun.
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?