I’m not laughing, though. I’m furious. I get up from the floor with as much dignity as I can muster. My eyes shoot directly to Raph. The mask of stone is gone, replaced by a cocky as hell smirk, which just infuriates me all the more. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. Next to him, Layla looks as pleased as a cat being rewarded with its favorite treat. She’s almost purring with delight.
A stream of obscenities rings through my mind and I’m not even thinking straight when I pick up my five hundred page text book and hurl it directly at Raph’s smirking face. The laughter stops immediately, and I hear some gasps as the book, which is as heavy as a brick, flies through the air towards Raph.
I must have a good arm because it looks like that brick is going to smash straight into that perfect face of his.
But his reflexes are impossibly fast. He snaps out a hand and catches the projectile in mid-flight, just a hair’s breadth away from his face. An instant later, my text book explodes into a ball of flame in his hand.
I watch in disbelief as the inferno engulfs his bare hand, my text book turning into ashes as his gaze locks onto mine. He’s not smiling anymore. The deathly calm in those glacier-like eyes, coupled with the fact that he can apparently summon an inferno in the blink of an eye, is positively unnerving. I feel a chill race down my spine when I finally understand exactly who and what I’m up against here.
My gaze falls on Professor Gorman who is watching the whole thing passively. Again, as if this sort of thing happens in class all the time.
“Are you just going to stand there?” I ask, feeling my own outrage.
“This asshole almost blinded me and he’s just set my text book on fire!”
I catch Raph snickering in the corner of my eye, because I must look totally na?ve. Of course, Professor Gorman isn’t going to do anything. As Dani told me earlier, even the teachers are scared of these spoiled pricks.
“Sit back down, Jazmine,” Professor Gorman replies flatly, completely unfazed by my outburst.
I think I lose whatever fraction of calm I have left then. Without another word, I pick up my bag and get the hell out of there, because if I have to look at Raph’s mocking smile or Layla’s equally smug expression a moment longer, I’m going to lose my shit.
After spending the rest of the afternoon in the library, I finally muster the courage to head back to Sovereign Hall.
As I approach the sparkling white mansion, the first thing I notice is the cars on the white stone driveway. The garage on the side of the mansion, which was empty last night, is also now occupied. There’s a sleek black motorcycle at the front of the driveway. Next to it is an equally sleek matte black sports car, which looks like it costs more than the price of most homes. A large blacked out Range Rover is behind it, along with a white convertible. There are two other cars in the garage. I can’t make out what they are. But one thing is clear, the spoiled brats are home.
I seriously consider trying to climb in through my bedroom window. But I shake the thought away. I live here, too, and I’m not going to hide from these bastards.
I take a deep breath and step through the front door. Conversation stops as I enter, and I can feel eyes on me as I walk through the reception hall. I don’t make eye contact with anyone, I but can see Baron and Lance turn from the video game that they’re playing on the massive flat screen TV, to look at me. Ivy, who is sitting on Lance’s lap, gives me the look of death. Keller is propped up on the kitchen island, where Layla is sitting on one of the stools. Both are clearly not happy to see me.
I don’t say a word as I try to walk up the spiral staircase as calmly as possible. I’m not going to run, but it’s an effort to keep my pace unhurried and my face blank.
Focusing much too hard on putting one foot in front of the other, I don’t notice the tall muscular figure coming down the stairs until I crash into a rock-hard chest and find myself looking up at a pair of impossibly blue eyes.
I push myself back, as if I’ve just hit a wall of fire, but that’s not a great idea, given that I’m standing on a staircase. I feel myself losing balance but before I go plummeting backwards down the cold marble steps, I feel a solid arm around my waist, keeping me from falling. I can feel all eyes in the room staring, but they suddenly feel so far away.
Raph says nothing as he pulls me against his chest. Even through his white shirt, I can feel the heat of his skin. In the same way that he almost seems to glow with the sun’s light, he seems to carry the warmth of it, too. We’re standing so close, that we’re sharing breath and I know he can feel my heart thundering against my chest. The feel of his hard body flush against mine makes warmth pool in parts of my body which makes me hate my traitorous reaction.
I can feel the flush creeping into my cheeks and I’m embarrassed as hell. Not to mention furious at myself for the insane reaction, because only a few hours ago, this asshole almost blinded me.
I place my hand against that rock hard chest to push him away and I think I might just be imagining it, but I can swear that I can feel his heartbeat racing as fast as mine. I squash the thought immediately and remind myself that it’s impossible, because this asshole doesn’t have a heart.
“Get your hands off me, asshole,” I hiss. My voice is quiet, but everyone in the room hears it.
Just like that night after the ceremony, I expect him to be pissed at the insult. But he flashes me a cocky smile instead. Like a Cheshire cat. For a second, I find it hard to remember that this guy is the devil incarnate himself. I find it hard to even think. Because that smile. It takes my goddamn breath away. It’s the kind of smile capable of making even angels fall in love on the spot. The kind of smile that is capable of illuminating even the greyest of skies. Like the goddamn sun coming out after a storm, which is fitting, given that this asshole lords over the sun itself.
But when he opens his mouth, sense and reason return with a vengeance.
“Somehow, I’m finding it hard to believe that’s really what you want, Jaz,” he says, those luminous blue eyes traveling over every inch of my flaming face.
I can feel said flaming face burn even hotter in response, in a mix of anger and embarrassment. Because he’s right. My traitorous body is emitting all the wrong signals right now and I want nothing more than to set the record straight.
“That’s because you’re a delusional narcissist,” I retort. I hear a chuckle from somewhere in the living room, reminding me that we have an audience. But I couldn’t care less. Let them see me put this prick in his place.
Raph only smirks in response. Smirks. He’s clearly enjoying himself. But I’m not, and this conversation needs to be over. Now.
I’m also well aware that his arm is still wrapped firmly around my waist and I hate the fact that I can feel every ridge of chorded muscle, even through my blazer.
I open my mouth to make myself blindingly clear, ready to break his arm if that’s what it will take for him to let me go. But he’s already speaking.