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32
Idecide talking to Becca is easier than talking to her brother, but this becomes more of a challenge than I thought. Arabella and Li are constantly by Becca’s side, and I have absolutely no desire to get into a sparring match with either of them. There’s no way to get Becca by herself. So when dinner rolls around and I’m eating alone, I decide to switch tactics and go after Luke instead.
This is a big leap for me, because the mere thought of Luke is enough to send my heart hammering like a thousand fists beating on a door. My heart is already a violent, engulfed, bloody mess, and I don’t need the thought of Luke to spiral it wildly out of control.
With his assortment of bodyguards, Luke has even more people surrounding him than Becca.
Luckily, I have an in.
I have Finlay.
“He’s just goin’ tae the toilet,” Finlay yells at the guards. “We’rejust goin’. Together. Like normal manly men.”
It’s an easy lie, since there are boys’ toilets on practically every floor of Lochkelvin. If you’re a girl? You hold it in in time to reach the individual facilities seven floor up in the girls’ tower.
The moment the guards switch around, Finlay hauls him into the cleaning cupboard where I’m waiting.
“What are you doing, man?” Finlay shoves Luke so hard that he narrowly misses stepping into a mop and bucket.
I turn on the cupboard light. The bulb swings back and forth above our heads.
“Hi.”
Luke gazes at me in surprise, no longer as free and easy as he had been with Finlay. “Why is she here?”
He’sso closeto me, with only the bucket between us. I can make out every dark eyelash running across his eyelids, his sharp gaze watching me keenly like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.
But then Finlay enters the cupboard, slamming the door shut behind him. Luke jolts forward, his hands bracing against the shelf behind my head.
With the addition of Finlay, the air is sucked out of the room, and all I can do is stare at Luke’s full lips.
“Finlay,” I manage to mutter, still gazing at Luke like I’m enchanted, “it’s tight enough without you in here. Get out.”
“Naw. I want tae know whit else ye saw. And I bet Rory does, an’ aw.”
“You’re notallcoming in here.” Alarm and panic take over my voice. There’s no way I can cope withthreechiefs brushing up against me. My heart’s already thundering, the temperature in here has rocketed, and my voice is allwrong.
“He is speaking with his dad,” Luke’s low voice rumbles beside my ear. I wonder if he’s doing it deliberately, making me feel on edge with that deep gravelly tone of his.
“Oscar Munro ishere?” It comes out as a squeak.
Luke stares at me like I’m a puzzle he can’t figure out. “We have this object called a telephone,” he says, totally deadpan. “It is quite a recent invention, so you may not have heard of it.”
“I know what a telephone is,” I snap, and then clamp my mouth shut.
Don’t yell at princes.
But Luke’s lips quirk up at the corners, and he’s gazing down at me with his arms still braced on the shelves like he doesn’t entirely hate this position.
All I can see is Luke. His chest is at my eye level, the deep blue braiding of his Lochkelvin blazer shining beneath the single lightbulb.
“I dinnae think ye need tae take up that much space,” Finlay says dryly, tugging Luke by the collar and pulling him away from me.
Luke glares at him, dusting himself down. “Never do that to me again.” There’s a no-nonsense nature to Luke. Whereas Finlay is all about the nonsense, Luke’s been born into a complex life of majesty and service. He doesn’t like being made fun of. “Why have you shoved us in a cupboard with the Yank? You do understand deceiving my guards comes with a heavy penalty, right?”
“Like I care,” Finlay snaps. “Listen tae whit she has tae say. It’s about the ritual.”
An uneasy expression flickers across Luke’s face. “Why should I trust her?”
