The Initiation (Filthy Rich Americans, #1)

by Nikki Sloane

I tugged the book gently, but Royce wouldn’t release it. “Interesting.” He cocked his head to the side, and his icy eyes sharpened. “So, you are Medusa.” A smile tilted on his lips. “It was temporary, but you turned me to stone just now.” My mind went blank. “What?” “Do you have any idea how long I was standing there, watching you?”

Royce finally stroked his hand between my thighs, touching me through the thin satin.

“I want this,” he said. “Give it to me.” He couldn’t have sounded more like the spoiled rich brat he was if he’d tried.

“Hello, Marist. Or is it Medusa now?” His lips held the faintest of smiles. “Did you do what I asked?” Air halted painfully in my body as everything constricted. I couldn’t believe he had the balls to ask me that after what had just happened, after all this time, and to be so casual about it. Flames bloomed in my chest. “It’s Medusa.”

“Liar.” He smiled so victoriously, I almost didn’t catch the relief he was trying to hide beneath it. His

“Yes.” I said it so softly it was impossible to hear, so I cleared my throat and strived for an even, sure tone. “I agree.” Royce’s unexpected smile made my heart stumble. Was I reading him right? He looked pleased at my answer, like he wanted this. What kind of sense did that make?

“While I would have preferred you accepted my initial offering, I respect that you didn’t. Maybe there’s a brain in there beneath that ridiculous hair you’ve got.” His compliment was mostly backhanded. Then he added, “I can see why Royce likes you.”

“I don’t,” he said quickly. “Like I told you before, either Northcott girl is fine with me.” My brain quit functioning, and the word fired off before I could rein it in. “Wow.”

sinister smile lifted on Macalister’s lips as he looked at his son, as if he wanted to see Royce squirm. “If that’s true, what was all that on the car ride over here?” “It was nothing.” His voice was clipped.

“But you and me? I was . . . hoping for this outcome.” Did he think I was stupid? “You literally said ‘either Northcott girl is fine.’” “I said that to protect you.” His tone was sincere. “It was a lie, Marist. Like I told you last year, I’m not interested in your sister.” At the memory, the room seemed to grow smaller the longer Royce and I stood alone in it. “Protect me from what?”

He gave a pointed look, as if the answer were obvious. He was protecting me from his father. I sucked in a breath and matched his gentle tone. “Why?” “I don’t have time to explain right now. I need your phone. I told them we were exchanging numbers.” I begrudgingly dug it out of my dress pocket and passed it to him. “Right. Because you should probably have your fiancée’s number.”

“You’re not my fiancée, Marist. Yeah, you made the deal out there, but I haven’t asked you to be my wife.” His gaze roamed across my face, like he was memorizing each detail, before finally ending on my lips. His whispered words brushed over my sensitized skin. “Not yet.”

“You’re a ‘haver.’ I mean, you could have any woman in this room if you wanted, and probably some of the guys too. You’re young, hot, and filthy rich.” His irritation vanished. It was replaced with an arrogant expression that said none of this was news to him. I pushed forward, gathering steam.

“Me?” I said. “I’m a ‘have-not.’ I’m sure you didn’t intend for it to happen, but when you said I was a nobody, you made it true. No one will touch me.” “I touched you.”

“You wanted to know why I was still a virgin last year. Well, there’s your answer. You’re the reason, Royce. Nobody would be caught dead with me.” He considered the accusation I’d lobbed at him. “You’re wrong,” he said finally. “I was aware what was going to ha...

He leaned over the table to ensure he had my full attention. “I saw you at the bar with your sister that night. You were swaying to the music, all happy, and pretty, and it pissed me off. My father had already laid out plans for me. I...

“Oh, my God.” My body flushed hot, although I didn’t know if it was with anger or excitement, or a deadly combination of the two. “I’d tell you I’m sorry if that was hard for you, but honestly?” He tossed a hand up. “I’m not. I take my victories where I can get them, and I don’t regret what I had to do to earn it. It’s win-at-all-costs in the Hale family. You’ll learn that soon enough.” Catching my breath was impossible. “You’re making this up.” He looked dubious. “Seriously? Why would I? I went out with Emily once. Did she tell you about it?” “She said,” I swallowed thickly, “you were a jerk.” “Is that it?”

When I didn’t answer, he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, looking at me like I’d just proved his point. “I wasn’t aware that was something you could turn on or off.” My tone was dry. “I thought it was a default setting for you.” He chuckled. “See? You’re like me. You say what you’re thinking, and no one talks to me like that. It’s one of the reasons I like you. Everyone else has their nose so far up my family’s ass it’s uncomfortable.” One of the reasons. What were the others? “She also said you had zero chemistry.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “That should have been a dead giveaway. Because you and me, Marist? There’s no fucking issue of chemistry. I still remember what you taste like.” Oh, Lord.

“There are a lot of hoops I still have to jump through, now and even after I’m on the board, and . . . I’m going to need your help.” I swallowed a breath. “How so?” “Win at all costs is the Hale family motto, so there will be times I’m going to say or do things you’re not going to like.” His expression was resigned, like a doctor delivering tough news. “I’ll be mean, Marist. Maybe even awful. I’ll tell lies, and when this is all over? You might think I’m worse than my father.”

“But,” he continued, “you’ll know it’s lies. Anything I say or do when other people are around, don’t believe it. That’s not me. It’s a character I’ve invented to help me win the game. The person I am with you is different than the one outside.”

“This won’t be easy,” he said. “If you ever need anything, just say the word. I’ll do my best to help.” “Okay.” I lifted my chin and smoothed my hands down my skirt. “You can actually help right now.” He gave me a questioning look. “I waited a year, Royce. Touch me.”

“I’ve always had a driver, so I guess I never saw the point in learning.” Shock bolted through me. “You don’t know how?” I would never want to be that dependent on someone else. “Oh, my God, you should learn. I think you’d really enjoy it. When I’ve got my favorite song on and it’s just me in the car? I love it. That’s freedom.” I snapped my mouth shut, realizing too late that I sounded like an idiot. But he didn’t act like he thought that. He considered my statement, and it seemed to grow more appealing each second. “Freedom, huh?” “Yeah,” I offered. “I could teach you. You help me with the interview, I show you which pedal’s the gas.” He arched an eyebrow. “I know which one’s the gas, thank you.”

“Be Medusa,” he whispered. I sucked in a final breath, let go of my dress, and as it cascaded down my body, I unleashed my power, turning all the men into stone.

This sordid rite was like something straight out of the mythology books I found so compelling. I was a virgin sacrifice on Mount Olympus, and the men surrounding me believed they were gods.

“Come here.” He spoke quietly, as not to break the spell. “I want to ask you something.” There was rustling as my dress train dragged over the pebbled path. I was nearly to him when his hand slipped into his pocket. This time, the black box he held was much smaller and the world slowed to a stop.

“I know,” Royce started, “this looks like I’m asking you to marry me, and I am.” His heart seemed to be racing as fast as mine was, given how quickly his chest moved.