The Pretender and The Prince novel Chapter 9

Ondine was woken by her roommate, Allegra.

“Ondine, wake up! Your boyfriend is downstairs and asked me to get you,” Allegra said, poking her arm through the bed curtain.

Ondine had always been a light sleeper, and with the stress about her mother, she was even more on edge. She jolted awake.

She sat up, her eyes half-closed and blurry with sleep. “What?”

“Ellis is waiting for you downstairs. He asked me to tell you to come down.”

Ondine let out an annoyed sigh. Her dislike for him intensified—he knew she hadn’t gotten to bed until four-thirty in the morning.

“I’m not done sleeping,” she mumbled, flopping back down. “Just ignore him.”

In the past, she would have jumped out of bed, no matter how tired she was. But now? Why should she cater to him?

Ondine slept until eleven. After showering and getting dressed, she went downstairs, and to her surprise, Ellis was still there. She frowned, a wave of irritation washing over her.

He spotted her and his face lit up. “Babe! Where were you yesterday afternoon? I went to the coffee shop where you work, but they said you’d taken the day off.”

“Oh,” she said, her voice flat. “I wasn’t feeling well, so I took the day off and slept.”

“You weren’t feeling well? What’s wrong? Are you working too hard?” He looked at her with wide, concerned eyes, the perfect picture of a caring boyfriend.

But Ondine knew it was all an act. The heir to the Sheppard fortune was only with her because it was amusing. His true love was Chantal. He hadn’t broken up with her yet because he wasn’t done playing his game, and because he was using her to make Chantal jealous. She was just a pawn.

“It’s nothing,” she said, her face expressionless. “Just a headache from a cold.”

“Maybe next time,” she said, her voice cool and even. “Didn’t we say we were going to meet our parents over the winter break? The first meeting should be more formal.”

“Alright,” he said, his voice laced with disappointment. He then looked at her earnestly. “Babe, what I did wasn’t fun. It really wasn’t. I promise I’ll never stay out that late again. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Ondine realized he was responding to what she’d said on the phone: “Is this fun for you?”

She’d been asking if his game of pretending to be poor was fun. But he’d misunderstood, thinking she was angry about him being out late and asking if his friend’s birthday party was so fun he had to stay out all night.

She didn’t correct him. “Okay,” she said with a dismissive nod. “I’m not mad.”

“Really?” He grinned, the light returning to his eyes. He was wearing the white down jacket she’d bought him, paired with a white turtleneck sweater she had knitted herself. Ellis was handsome, with clean-cut features, and even during his two years of playing poor, he’d looked sharp in faded shirts and jeans.