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My chest clenches as I follow Eclipsa through the snow to a stone manor hidden behind the lake. When we get to the massive arched double doors and I see the prince’s crest, an owl over two daggers, I halt, shifting the duffel higher on my shoulder.
Leaning sleepily against the door, holding a steaming cup of tea, is the Winter Prince. His tunic hangs wide open, giving me full privy to his god-like abs. Each ridge is so well defined I contemplate running my fingers over them. Black leather pants end in bare feet, the toenails just as neat and manicured as his fingernails.
Bare feet—in the freezing cold. Must be nice.
Ruby is buried in a hot-pink infinity scarf Mack gave me, and she lifts her head. “Dayuum, kid. I could do laundry on those abs.”
I blink, unable to tear my gaze from his perfect form. Tats adorn his chest, all Unseelie symbols, from the look of them—
Holy hell.
His expression is a mixture of annoyance and concern as he eyes Eclipsa then me. “You said it was an emergency, Eclipsa. Care to explain?”
I raise my hand. “I’d like an explanation too. Am I not getting kicked out?”
Ruby leans forward on my shoulder, her little face agleam with mischief. If she had popcorn she’d be eating it about now.
Crossing her arms, Eclipsa turns to me. “Kicked out? You’re not getting expelled, Summer. How could you even think that?”
I shift on my feet, the porch’s warped wooden boards groaning softly. “Sorry, I have a bad habit of expecting the worst.”
That’s what happens when your parents are murdered . . . but I don’t add that last part.
“Well this isn’t the worst-case scenario. In fact, I think you’ll like this new arrangement.”
“What arrangement?”
“I’m relocating you.”
“You’re what?” the prince and I say together.
Her lips curve into a grim smile. “I think you’re onto something about the accidents, Summer. And if I’m right, whoever is trying to kill you will keep trying. From now until I deem it safe, you stay here.”
“I don’t understand. Is this . . . another dorm?” My breath comes in ragged spurts.
I should be worrying about someone trying to kill me. If Eclipsa takes it seriously, then there’s a real possibility I’m on to something. But all I can think is how the prince is here, looking like he just fell out of bed. Which means he probably did just fall out of bed.
Which also means he lives here. Sleeps here. Naked—as my memory serves. Not a scrap of clothing on that wonderful body . . .
Blinking, I refocus on reality. Eclipsa is watching me with an amused look. Oh, crap. Have I been staring at the Winter Prince and his abs the entire time?
Yes, Summer—yes, you have.
And he’s glaring at me, his silver-blue eyes narrowed and lips sullen. Wheeling around, he shoulders open the oak door and stalks inside, letting the door slam in my face.
Well, this is going to be fun.
Propping open the door, I turn to Eclipsa. “At least the prince and I finally agree on something. This arrangement blows.”
Behind me, Eclipsa groans, muttering a prayer to Titania.
As my wet boots squeak over the dark wood floor, and I take in the luxuries—marble paneling, expensive couches, crystal vases with imported summer dahlias, and more windows than walls—a new thought emerges.
True, the prince’s on-campus house might be the safest place for me . . . physically.
But the same can’t be said for my heart.
37
