Getting to someone’s weak spot, or exploiting their inner most need, has become an art form for me.

I’m exceedingly good at reading people, at knowing their motivations and personality within the first five minutes of meeting. It’s like a gift and a curse; I can instantly tell which kind of people I will like, or at least respect, and which will drive me bloody mad until the day I can get away from them.

One of the things that drives me absolutely bonkers is that I can’t get a read on Nora Randolph. My first mistake was assuming that she was the typical brat who comes into fame and fortune. As I’ve found out, she could care less about the money. In school, on the trip to Paris, any of the other times I’ve interacted with her … she’s not once talked about expensive shoes or jewelry or trips to far off places. Nora had only wanted to see the Eiffel tower, or watch the boat race, or study.

The second mistake I made was in letting her convince me that was all she was. Because I may be a good liar, but Nora was a decent one too. She masked her real personality, hid her intellect and her opinions. Her anger was always thickly veiled, and any mention of her former life is nonexistent.

I’d gotten cocky in my haste to take down her stepfather, but I needed to do more recon.

Which was exactly why I’d semi-stalked Nora on the way home from school today. I’d noticed a while ago that she’d begun ducking her security detail and walking home through the park by Winston Academy. Which just so happened to back right up to Regent Street, the main shopping district in London.

“Hi, princess.” I stroll up next to her, making sure to turn on my extra-charm smile.

At first, she tries to ignore that I’m even there, but that familiar electricity crackles between us. That’s fine, I like the challenge. And now that I’ve misjudged her, I want even more to expose her soft spot.

Something feels different, though. Typically, the girls I pursue play hard to get as an act, and I know the whole time that I am the one in control. But after that kiss … bloody Christ could that girl kiss … I felt a little … off my game. She seemed to have some knowledge over me now, and maybe I’d gone too far with the kiss after the race. It was making me second guess all of my moves, and I silently cursed myself for letting a girl like Nora get in my head.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than follow me around all day like a lovesick puppy?”

Her snarly tone went straight to my balls, and I knew I was sick and twisted for it but I didn’t care.

“Actually, love, I don’t. You’re the most interesting thing in all of London, or didn’t you know?

“Coming from the self-proclaimed con-artist of the foggy city, I guess I should take that as a compliment.” Her tongue burns almost as hot as the color of her hair.

And it’s as if she sees right through me. But Nora could never guess my real motives for growing close to her.

“Exactly. So how about it, let’s go on a date.” I catch a strand of her hair in the wind, the silky lock slipping through my fingers.

She yanks away. “Don’t you know anything about personal boundaries? And no, I am not going on a date with you.”

We head onto the busy street, one packed with tourists and Londoners alike, popping in and out of the trendy shops lining the pavement.

“Okay, I get it. I’m good enough to snog, but not good enough to date.” The corner of my mouth flicks up at the memory of pinning her against the wall in the boathouse.

Nora stops as if someone has completely yanked her chain, and then gets real close, waving a finger in my face. “Let’s get one thing straight. You are the one who has pursued me. You are the one who kissed me. I’ve wanted none of it. And what the hell is wrong with you anyway? The first day of school, you basically threatened me. And now you’re trying to date me? You’re psychotic.”

I’d been called worse. “Maybe we should kiss and make up then?”

Nora throws up her hands and stomps away. “You drive me batshit crazy!”

Increasing my pace to catch up with her, I chuckle. “Maybe that’s what you’re looking for in a lad. How about this? Hang out with me this afternoon, and if you don’t thoroughly enjoy yourself, I’ll leave you alone.”

My words dangle between us, the honk of cabs and whoosh of red double deckers around us the only sounds that register. My idea is just crazy enough to work, but if she accepts, I need to pull out all of the stops to hook her for good.

Those hazel eyes seem to work around the idea, and I can practically hear the cogs in her brain digesting it. That brain, God I would love to learn more about that.

“Fine. But this is it. After today, you take a hike.” She crosses her arms over her chest, and my eyes flit to the small opening in her uniform blouse.

“Don’t be so sure about that. But, it’s a deal that I’m willing to take. Come on then, we’re almost there.”

I walk ahead, waiting to hear her black chunky school shoes behind me. I skirt tourists and look for my destination, knowing it is the one place that she’ll be vulnerable with me. If I’m going to succeed in pulling her closer to me, then I can’t take her to a fancy restaurant. She would never sit somewhere like a coffee shop and chat about the nonsense of our lives. No, we need fun. Interaction. And judging from that kiss, as hot as bollocks as it was, Nora is naïve. Inexperienced.

“This is where you really want to go?” She peers up at the sign of the store I’m stopped in front of.

“You’re not a proper Londoner until you’ve bought your first toy from Hamley’s. So, this is where we are going.”

A toy store is the perfect place to arse off, and if this can’t get Nora to loosen up around me, I’m not sure what will. And although she still has a sourpuss expression on her face, I can see the childlike interest in her eyes. Finally, I’m making some inroads to figuring this bird out.

We enter the store, the staff smiling and welcoming us. I used to come here all the time as a boy, but haven’t stepped foot in a toy store since I turned thirteen and a girl’s baps were the most interesting toys I wanted to get my hands on.

Seven stories of wonder and awe, starting with the ground floor of every stuffed animal you could possibly think up. I know that further up, there is a floor worth of Harry Potter merchandise, and a Lego floor that even sparks my interest.

“Pick anything you’d like, it’s on me.” I have to laugh a little at her face.

Nora looks like she just walked into Christmas morning itself. She’s probably too overwhelmed to be cheeky right now, because she just ignores me and begins to walk around.

Meandering through the shelves, she stops and picks up a pink spotted stuffed hippo. “I used to have one just like this.”

I catch the look of homesickness that winks around the corner of her eyes, and the arsehole inside of me feeds on that insecurity.

“It must have been tough leaving the States …” I want her to open up to me, even if it is for my own ill gains.

“Yes, sort of. But I love my mom, so it wasn’t so hard.” Not the soul-professing answer I was looking for, but at least she isn’t biting my head off.

As we walk, I study her body and movement. She’s long but lean, like an elegant gazelle. Nora moves almost silently around the store, and if she were any other person, the customers in the store would be all over her. I’m surprised that no one has recognized her yet, but she sinks into the racks and blends so that barely anyone notices her. I find it fascinating yet alarming, how a girl this beautiful can go unseen; takes skill and practice. Those long legs under the uniform plaid skirt, skin I just want to run my hands over and watch blush with desire.

Wordlessly, she moves to the escalator and I follow, not having gotten anything out of her but the one sentence.

“What was your favorite board game growing up? I was a Monopoly man myself, you know snatching up property and money has always been my thing.” I wink at her as the escalator goes up.

Those peach lips tip up. “You would. No, I was more of a Clue girl. Figuring out the mystery, using logic. And I have always loved a good thriller.”

“Ah, okay. So you fancied Nancy Drew then?”

Nora scoffs. “Try Agatha Christie.”

“Are you the type of person who reads the last chapter and spoils the book?” Now we’re getting somewhere.

“Of course not, that’s cheating. But really, what was the last book you even read?” She walks onto the second floor and almost steps on the large train set lining the floor.

I catch her elbow, the feel of her beneath my fingers like silk and something forbidden.

“Oops, thank you.” She looks sheepish but I know that I’m slowly making her warm up to me.

“And for your information, I am a big Dan Brown fan. So don’t think I’m some big tosser.” I fold my arms over my chest, and I notice when her eyes shoot down to study my pecs through my uniform button up.

“Funny, I thought it would be something stereotypical like Winston Churchill’s war journals or something along those lines.” Nora picks up a cool looking stamp set and places it back down.

“But Clue, yeah? That film used to scare the bollocks out of me. The one with that wonky butler character.”

Nora laughs as we head for the third floor. “Me too, actually. But I was always Professor Plum.”

“Not Miss Scarlett?” My eyes heat as I obviously look her over.

She actually makes contact and hits my arm slightly. “Brains always ruled over looks in my corner of the world, Frederick.”

Tilting my head, sincerity pops out of my mouth before I can come up with a plotted phrase. “I think I like you more for that fact.”

Nora’s eyes hold something akin to shock and endearment, and I’m speechless for one of the only times in my life. Because it’s true, I do kind of like her for all of the things that make her different from other girls.

The third floor looks like pink and flowers lost its stomach all over the walls. Baby dolls, cartoon makeup, Barbie’s, Cabbage Patch Kids and every imaginable girl toy that could ever be shoved into a dollhouse resided on this floor.

“Oh God, let’s get out of here please.” Nora heads right for the up escalator, and I’m surprised once more.

“What, the princess doesn’t like princesses?”

Her amber eyes flash. “According to you, I’m a peasant, not a princess. And no, I never was one for all of the flash and makeup.”

She threw my words of our first meeting right back at me. “About that, I may have made a small clanger.”

I follow the long waves of red off the moving stairs and onto the fourth floor, one with a random assortment of toys.

“A clanger?” Nora looks confused.

“A mistake, a misjudgment. I thought you knew everything, girl genius.”

A blush tinges her high cheekbones. “You forget that we have different slang where I come from. If I asked you what jawn, youse, or jimmies were, you wouldn’t know, now would you?”

Chuckling, she’s got me. “I suppose not.”

Something must catch her eye, because she doesn’t bother to answer me.

But at least this is going better than I thought it was. She may think she’s only giving me trivial information, but some of these likes and dislikes give me insight into her personality. Nora likes to read mysteries and thrillers, which means that she is attracted to complications and puzzles. Frilly, fancy things don’t hold her interest, and she’s smart as a whip. And through our meandering talk, I’ve picked up on all of her body language. The way her cheeks pink when I say something that makes her blood warm. How her eyes slant to the right when she’s trying to be cheeky, but I know she secretly likes to sass me. Every time she is in the vicinity of another person, she all but vanishes, skirting around them and trying to go as unnoticed as possible.

All of these little clues, little quirks, will help me get closer to her. Help me insert myself into her life. And when I have her good and wrapped around my finger, I’ll get closer to crushing the one person who has made my life a living hell.

“This is what I want.” Nora interrupts my thoughts as she holds up a box that is almost as big as she is.

“That’s really what you want?” My face must be one of disapproving confusion.

“You said whatever I want, and this was your idea in the first place. So carry this down and grant my wish.”

I can’t help but take the innuendo she’s given me. “Oh, love, I’ll grant any wish you desire.”

Again, her cheeks go scarlet with embarrassed arousal.

But, I take the large chemistry set box from her hands and lug it down the escalators, out to the cash registers and pay for the thing. When I’d decided to take her here, it was the last thing I’d ever guess she would buy. Then again, it was why I’d done it, to try and anticipate more about her personality and actions.

As we parted on the sidewalk and I put her in a taxi, I didn’t even try to kiss her. I pretended to be the perfect gentleman, putting the large box in the back and opening her door. Then I’d winked and she’d smiled and waved as the car drove off.

I’d mark the day overall as a win in my book. But as I grabbed my own taxi home, I couldn’t help but feel a mixed sea of emotions swirling about in my stomach. I was closer to my end goal, but I realized as the car turned onto Downing Street, that I was actually coming to like Nora Randolph.

And that was the last thing I needed.