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Pretend I was sick so I had an excuse for my unwashed hair?
Or maybe I should just run out of the living room screaming because it wasn’t fair that these guys would always be prettier than me.
Before I could make up my mind, Jaak’s friend murmured, “Cute pajamas.”
My mouth opened and closed. He sounded sincere enough, but the devilish gleam in his dark eyes threw me off.
“Cute but ancient,” Jaak slotted in. “It’s also the only thing she likes to wear in her bum phase.”
Oh, Jaak...youmoron.
“She doesn’t even bother taking a shower at times.”
I gaped at my brother, and I said in a strangled tone, “TMI, hello?” I couldn’t believe how Jaak had managed to murder my reputation in a matter of seconds.
“It’s not,” Mr. Insensitive dismissed. “You don’t need to hide anything from Marcus.”
I didn’t?
“Marcus knows Willem and Nic, too. We’ve been friends with him for years, so he’s like family,” my brother elaborated.
He was?
Jaak’s gaze turned towards the TV and groaned. “You’re still not done drooling over that Pacey guy?”
That was it.
I had only met Marcus Ravelli barely five minutes ago, and the man had already been exposed to all of my deepest, darkest secrets.
“Please do not feel embarrassed on my account,bambina.” His tone was all dark and mysterious, and although I had no idea what ‘bambina’ meant, it sounded cute. It mademefeel cute, and that was rare.
“Your brother is only making me jealous. He knows how much I envy him for having a big family. It’s always been a dream of mine to have a little sister I could torture...”
Something gleamed in his eyes when he murmured the last word, and I felt something inside me tighten.
But when I looked back at him, it was gone, Marcus finishing smoothly, “And of course I also want a sister I can be overprotective with.”
Right.I wasn’t quite sure I believed him about that, but I said politely, “That’s sweet.”
“Itissweet,” Jaak interjected easily, “but also unrealistic in your case, sinceyou’rea year older than him.”
Moron.
Jaak was such amoron.
“It’s how she looks that matters,” Marcus rebutted, “so I stand by what I say.” And then his lips curved ever so slightly as he glanced back at me. “You agree, don’t you,bambina?”
Oh, Marcus...youprince.
But I couldn’t say that, just like I couldn’t make myself eventhinkof not-so-nice things about anyone. Years of living under Willem de Konigh’s watchful eye had effectively trained all forms of rudeness and coquetry out of me. In the end, I could only say lamely, “You can just call me Anneke.” I tried not to wince as the words slipped past my lips.
Way to go, Anneke. You can’t possibly say anything more boring than that.
“I guess I could.” Wickedness laced his tone, and he gazed at me under hooded lids, murmuring, “But I’d rather not...bambina.”
Oh.
Was he actually flirting with me?
