“Why are you in my room?”“Because I can be.”“You shouldn’t be.”“Save it, Rochester. You broke my nose.”“Does it hurt?”He lifted a hand toward his face and dropped it. “You could say that.”“Good.”He nudged a tray on the floor with his boot. It had oatmeal, toast, and orange juice on it. “Hungry?”Honor’s stomach growled. “No.”Ryder’s lips turned up in a fleeting sadistic smile. He kicked the tray across the room. It hit the wall and overturned. “Good.”

“Then Drew shuffles into the dining hall. I drop my toast, and my mouth drifts open.Calling him “bruised” would be an understatement. His face is swollen and purple. He has a split lip and a cut running through his eyebrow. He keeps his eyes down on the way to his table, not even lifting them to look at me. I glance across the room at Four. He wears the satisfied smile I wish I had on.”

“You think my feelings toward you apathetic? You think you bore me?”“Don’t I?”He shook his head slowly, continuing toward her, stalking her in the small space.“No.God knows you are infuriating . . And impulsive . . .” Her back came up against the wall, and she gave a little squeak, even as he advanced. “And altogether maddening . . .” He placed one hand to her jaw, carefully lifting her face to his, feeling the leap of her pulse under his fingertips. “And thoroughly intoxicating . . .” The last came out on a low growl, and her lips parted, soft and pink and perfect.He leaned close, his lips a fraction from hers.“No . . . you are not boring.”

“He placed his hands against the Jeep on either side of my head and leaned forward, forcing me to press back against the door. He leaned in even closer, his face inches from mine. I had no room to escape."Now," he breathed, and just his smell disturbed my thought processes, "what exactly are you worrying about?""Well, um, hitting a tree -" I gulped "- and dying. And then getting sick."He fought back a smile. Then he bent his head down and touched his cold lips softly to the hollow at the base of my throat."Are you still worried now?" he murmured against my skin."Yes." I struggled to concentrate. "About hitting trees and getting sick."His nose drew a line up the skin of my throat to the point of my chin. His cold breath tickled my skin."And now?" His lips whispered against my jaw."Trees," I gasped. "Motion sickness."He lifted his face to kiss my eyelids. "Bella, you don't really think I would hit a tree, do you?""No, but I might." There was no confidence in my voice. He smelled an easy victory.He kissed slowly down my cheek, stopping just at the corner of my mouth."Would I let a tree hurt you?" His lips barely brushed against my trembling lower lip."No," I breathed. I knew there was a second part to my brillant defense, but I couldn't quite call it back."You see," he said, his lips moving against mine. "There's nothing to be afraid of, is there?""No," I sighed, giving up.Then he took my face in his hands almost roughly, and kissed me in earnest, his unyielding lips moving against mine.There was really no excuse for my behavior. Obviously I knew better by now. And yet I couldn't seem to stop from reacting exactly as I had the first time. Instead of keeping safely motionless, my arms reached up to twine tightly around his neck, and I was suddenly welded to his stone figure. I sighed, and his lips parted.”

“The entire room exploded into applause, even a few whistles. I shook my after he kissed my forehead, and then stood up to take a bow. When he returned to his seat in front of me, he chuckled.“They’re not looking at you, now, are they?” he panted.“Thanks. You really shouldn’t have,” I smiled.”

“I also stole a small yellow doughnut from the box of Duncan's doughnuts in the rec room and fed it to the attack poodle in my office. He made a great production of it. First, he growled at the doughnut, just to show it who was boss. Then he nudged it with his nose. Then he licked it, until finally he snagged it into his mouth and chomped it with great pleasure, dropping crumbs all over the carpet.”