ISABELLA

Will it make me happy if he kissed me? The answer should be obvious–no–but why did I hesitate? Why did my heart skip a beat and pick up? That doesn't mean anything, I tried to tell myself. It means nothing at all.

“No?” Alexander asked, his head tilted mockingly. “You lie so beautifully, Isabella.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” I said, still trying to save face. “What makes you think I want to kiss you?”

He stared at me, his eyes moving from my eyes to my lips and back again. He leaned in slowly, his eyes fixed on my lips now, his lips parting. I swallowed, closing my...