Once again, the fawn stuck in headlights falls right into my crosshairs.

Of course, I knew she’d be attending tonight with her crock of a stepfather and gold-digging mother. I hadn’t planned any hijinks or takedowns, but here she was, spying on me and my mates.

Swinging the doors open, I present her grandly to our merry band of drunk spoiled children.

“We have a spy. Or worse, an American.”

Speri, one of the girls who has always run in our circles, giggles as she tips the vodka bottle back onto her lips. Katherine and Eloise sneer, fluffing down their own dresses in obvious jealousy. Drake, the prime minister’s son, starts to clap and hum the American national anthem. Ed laughs, but I see his eyes roaming over her in obvious interest.

And I can’t fault him for that, even though anger simmers in my blood at the thought that my cock finds this peasant appealing. She’s a nobody, a commoner, and yet when she swishes her hips a little, backing up in surprise, my other head perks up, coming to life as the navy material of her dress catches the light from the room behind me.

“Oh come off it, Asher, invite her in. She can be our play thing, plus she’s probably as bored as we are.” Drake winks at her, and the girl’s eyes go wider than the English Channel.

“Yeah, maybe we can get her drunk and make her sing country songs.” Katherine snorts, a sound that is unattractive coming from her thin lips. But as the Duke of Manchester’s cousin, she has a place here, and I can’t risk blowing her off.

I turn back to her, and hold out a hand while flashing her a wolfish smile. “You heard them, come on in. If you dare.”

My challenge seems to light something in her, and embers flare in her irises. “Nora Randolph, although clearly you already know who I am. Which says more about my status than yours, since I have absolutely no idea who any of you are.”

Nora slaps a palm into my own, taking the handshake that was only offered as a sign of intimidation. Behind us, Ed whistles and laughs, saying something about how this girl is brilliant.

The minute our hands connect, a sizzle of electricity races down my spine, landing with a jolt squarely in my balls. The creamy porcelain of her soft skin molds with my larger hand, a hand that could crush her delicate body if I so chose. Nora’s eyes lock onto mine like a heat-seeking missile, looking for any crack in the defense.

I assess just the same, scanning her flawless face, the wisps of fiery red falling down onto her shoulders. The way her dark, murky eyes, the color of Earl Grey tea, spark. How her cheek bones seem to angle up with her chin, both distinct and defiant in their repugnance of me. I let it be known that my eyes are moving down, my brows lifting in challenge as I move over her small but perky breasts. A mouthful if that, but put together so nicely in her party dress. Her frame is small, almost tomboyish at first glance, but I’ve seen the bikini pictures. And I’m a man, I can imagine what it would be like to have her bare, under me.

“You don’t scare me, Nora,” I whisper, using my grip on her hand to pull her marginally closer. “And you’re not fooling anyone. If we wanted you to know who we were, we would have introduced ourselves. But I’ll give you one, since you’re playing a losing game. I’m Asher Frederick, and you may not know my family, but trust me, you want to be scared of me.”

A giggle sounds from behind us as Eloise clears her throat. “Asher’s family is ace at manipulating people into doing what they want them to do.”

I give her another devious smile and drop her hand, much to the dismay of my semi. “Please, your highness, come on in.”

“Princess of the trailer park is more like it.” Speri hiccups.

I back up, turning from Nora and making my way over to a leather wingback chair. The place we’ve taken over at this stuffy event is some kind of conference room. But in true British fashion, it isn’t without it’s roaring fireplace and first edition war manuscripts.

“I’m going to go …” Her unfamiliar accent touches my ears.

“Oh, my arse … back to where? That bloody awful ballroom so old farts can talk about the good ole days? Stay here, beautiful, and let us corrupt you.” Ed gets up and makes his way over to her, shoving a liquor bottle in her hand.

Katherine and Eloise sit spinning an empty beer bottle between themselves on the table, laughing every time it lands on one of them.

I hear the clack of heels, and know she is moving farther into the room. I keep my back turned, eyes to the fire. Her challenging words and little lost fawn expression are affecting me more than I want them to.

“I don’t drink.” She sets the bottle on the table with a clank, and I presume settles into a chair. The give of old leather betrays her.

Drake laughs. “Bugger, that’s depressing. It’s the only way we all manage to get through these smashing soirees. That or shagging.”

Eloise laughs at that. “Rubbish, everyone knows you’re still a virgin.”

“She’s lying, darling. Unless that’s your thing, in which case, I’ve just been waiting for an angel like you.”

“No thanks, I’m not into British assholes.”

Nora’s words make me finally turn around, because she’s being a tosser and thinks she has an upper hand.

“And here I thought she was a slag. But apparently she only likes bloody Americans.” I look around the room, making sure everyone laughs at my joke.

See, this isn’t the extent of our group, but we are the best of them. The ones who get invited by proxy to these dinners, ceremonies, political events, grand openings. Our parents and relatives are the ones who hold the most power, who are the cream of the crop when it comes to invitation lists. And I am the ring leader, the one who herds and grooms the pack. If someone isn’t doing something I like, they need to be reminded to fall in line.

Like Eloise said, I’m very good at manipulation.

My friends laugh at my ribbing of Nora, but the poor girl just doesn’t get it.

“A slag?” She looks bored, and I want to punch a wall.

“Slut. Whore. Easy lay. Good time girl. You know, kind of like Katherine,” Eloise chimes in helpfully.

Speri laughs and Katherine hits Eloise quite hard on the arm.

And by the way Nora’s cheeks pink up, I can tell she is none of the above. But it feels brilliant to embarrass her.

“You can join in on the game if you want to.” Katherine lifts an eyebrow at her, and Drake moves to stand near the table too.

“In fact, I think we should all join the game.” Ed takes a swig from the scotch bottle he’s been nursing.

My veins are relatively clear of alcohol, even though I’d been slowly sipping a glass of Macallan over the past hour and a half.

“Spin the bottle? How passé. Let’s go to a club or something instead,” Speri whines.

“While I’d love nothing more, dear old dad would go mental if I left. Plus, I want to spend some time with our new friend.” Drake’s eyes flash, and I know what he’s thinking.

To be honest, I’d rather go cause some mischief out at a club, but this seems like a better idea.

Nora looks so out of her element, it’s laughable. “Isn’t that for grade schoolers? We aren’t twelve.”

Her words hold sarcasm but her eyes tell a different story. She’s scared and uncomfortable, and I want to push all of those buttons.

“Since I’m apparently twelve, I guess I’ll go first.” Ignoring her comment, I step up to the table and spin.

The bottle vibrates on the old wood tabletop, spinning round and around as one of the girls giggles and Ed hoots. The seconds seem to tick by in slow motion, and I can feel Nora’s eyes on the back of my neck. Feel the electricity humming between us. Smell her fear and anticipation.

So slowly that it feels as if we’re moving through molasses, the vodka bottle stops, pointing across the room.

Directly at Nora.

“There it is then, poppet. Pucker up, shall we?” I wear the smile of a panther about to trap its prey.

Her posture stiffens, those slim arms giving a subtle shake as the quiver of arousal, if I’m not mistaken, travels down her spine.

And then, for the second time in a week, Nora Randolph turns on her heel and bolts away from me. My friends break out into a rash of laughter, making kissing noises, and even Drake pats me on the arse.

I let her go, knowing it’s the last time I’ll allow her to save herself.