Page 47 of Cruel Games

The days whizzed by, a blur of intelligent dinner conversation, schoolwork, and slaving over the sewing machine. By Saturday evening, I had tailored a camel dress in merino wool that would look great with a pashmina I borrowed from Miss Martin’s stores.

I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom, admiring the garment. Its neckline sat on my collarbones, and I’d cut the pattern so that it flattered my figure without making the dress appear slutty. It flared a little at the hips, and its hem sat above my knees.

Gideon gave me a gentle round of applause. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Miss Martin helped with the advanced tailoring.” I twisted around to get a better view of my behind. The fabric skimmed my curves, giving a tantalizing hint of ass.

“Are you sure about Kendrick?,” said Gideon. “I don’t buy his sudden interest in you. He’s spent years at Elizabeth’s side.”

“Neither do I, but I’m more interested in depriving Lizard Breath of her men.” I turned around and arranged my hair demurely on my shoulders.

It didn’t matter how much Kendrick differed from Orlando and Maxwell. He had stood by while I was the academy’s whipping girl and sided with the other knights in that sex-tape business.

He frowned. “Be careful.”

A knock sounded on my door. I snatched up the pashmina and wrapped it around my shoulders. “What time’s Lachlan driving down?”

Gideon glanced down at the screen of his smartphone. “He’s half an hour away.”

“Have fun!” I opened the door and froze.

Kendrick stood in the hallway in his church finery. A black blazer that accentuated his broad shoulders and a gray, cashmere sweater that clung to his prominent pecs. Moisture flooded my mouth, and slickness gathered between my legs. His thigh muscles bulged out from slim-fitting pants, making me wonder if he played football like Orlando.

Up until now, I thought I went for the bad boys — the ones who looked rough and ready to fuck. But there was something to be said about a clean-cut man. Especially one with an identical face and body to Maxwell’s.

His mahogany hair curled around his brow, highlighting prominent cheekbones, and giving him the air of a romantic hero in an English period drama.

The dirty girl in me wondered if Kendrick would suck my tits with the same enthusiasm as his brother, but I gave her a slap and reminded her we were going to church. Church, where respectable people like my grandfather would sit. Church, where a girl would be struck down for entertaining such wicked thoughts.

Kendrick raised a hand in an are-you-awake wave.

But as my gaze lingered on his piercing gray eyes, kissable lips, and fingers large and thick enough to pump me to a satisfying climax, I knew this church date would be a disaster before it even began.

Chapter 17

Kendrick gave me a gallant bow and offered me his arm. “I thought we might take the scenic route to the chapel.”

I took the proffered arm, enjoying the closeness while it lasted. Kendrick smelled like the ocean, a breezy scent of seawater with a hint of rosemary and bergamot. It was the complete opposite of the fiery scent of Maxwell.

“Deloraine,” said a stern voice from behind. Gideon stood at the doorway, his arms folded over his chest. “Lilah is a dear friend. If you are planning anything nefarious, there will be consequences.”

“We’re going to church,” replied Kendrick. “I’ll return Lilah to the dining room in time for Sunday lunch.”

I gave Gideon a smile. In an hour, he’d be too busy with Lachlan to worry about me. “See you later.”

Kendrick led me through the hallway. A few other students wore their Sunday best, and some donned their uniforms, which he explained was deemed appropriate for church.

I’d expected more people to make double-takes at the sight of me walking on Kendrick’s arm, but he had sat out our table every mealtime since Elizabeth had told everyone my familial background.

Maybe they expected Kendrick to stick with me now. Perhaps Elizabeth wasn’t as well-liked as I had initially thought.

Everyone headed down the hallway toward a heavy, wooden exit, which let in a cold, rose-scented breeze. I stole a glance at Kendrick. He glanced down at me and gave me a rare smile.

My heart jumped into the back of my throat. What the holy hell was he planning?

As we stepped out of the side doors and walked down the stone steps, Kendrick said, “Adewale is rather protective.”

“He’s my only friend here.”