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He’s darker now.

That’s all I can think about. In combination with his rougher voice and his bigger body, his tanned skin makes him look ruthless.

More ruthless than before.

More ruthless than what he used to look like, standing in front of his locker, or at the school gates, or sitting at the largest and loudest table at the cafeteria. Or riding his bike down the highway.

I’m not sure I like that. Actually, I’m pretty sure that I don’t like it. As if he wasn’t intimidating enough. As if my palms didn’t itch enough to slap the arrogant look off his face.

Damn it.

Why did he come back?

Everything was fine. Everything was normal. I’d gotten used to not hiding or looking over my shoulder and being mellow all the time and not plotting mayhem and murder. I’d gotten used to my curvy body and how my thighs jiggle when I walk.

The only reason I took this job was because I thought he wasn’t coming back.

I know people said that he went to go to Oxford University like every other Prince in their family. But I never believed it.

Zach hated school. He was so much of a rulebreaker and a rebel that it’s laughable to even think that he’d walk in his ancestors’ footsteps.

Not to mention the way he left. So abruptly. Kind of like in the dead of night. He didn’t even graduate high school.

I knew that when he left, he didn’t go to Oxford and he wasn’t planning on coming back.

But I guess I was wrong about one of those things.

He is back.

After the dramatic fiasco in the ballroom, a couple of staff members escorted me out. Tina helped me clean up the wound and told me to take it easy. I’d been rattled all day and something was bound to happen. I don’t think Mrs. S would be as forgiving, though.

But I can’t think of that right now. I can’t think of what tomorrow will bring now that Zach knows I’m here, at The Pleiades.

They put me on kitchen duty after I so thoroughly embarrassed myself. It’s hot and sticky in there – I don’t know how Maggie does it – and I need a little break.

So I step outside through the service entrance and try to just breathe.

The night air isn’t much better and my uniform for the event, white blouse and tight black skirt, clings to my sweaty body but I don’t care. Anything is better than being cooped up in that kitchen.

I toe off my two-inch-heeled Mary Janes and unravel my braid, followed by the top two buttons of my blouse. I fan the fabric, trying to get some air going, and lean against the wall, closing my eyes.

“Are you okay?”

The rumbly voice makes me jump.

“Jesus. Fuck,” I almost shriek.

At first, I don’t see anything other than the dark outline of bushes and trees in the distance. But then I notice a cloud of smoke and whip myself in the direction it’s coming from.

Him.

Zach is leaning against the brick wall, his foot propped up. A cigarette hangs from his lips and he doesn’t have his jacket on, leaving him in his dark t-shirt that shows off his bulging biceps.

Oh jeez.

He isn’t even flexing them and they look menacing.

“You scared the fuck out of me,” I accuse.


Tags: Saffron A. Kent St. Mary's Rebels Romance