Page 10 of Cross My Heart

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Page 10 of Cross My Heart

“I can see that you’re going to be trouble, Ms. Peterson,” he says softly, and I feel a shiver of lust that’s impossible to ignore.

Red alert. Danger ahead.

“No trouble here,” I lie, getting to my feet and packing the reading list away. “Well, only when provoked.”

“Should I consider that a warning?” Saint asks, arching an eyebrow.

“That’s up to you. Plan on being an asshole to me in class again?” I ask.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson,” Saint replies, eyes still sparkling with amusement.

“Don’t be late, and that the professor is a power-hungry jackass,” I tick them off on my fingers. “Yup, just about got that covered. And they said Oxford would challenge me.”

He chuckles, a warm rich sound that rolls right the way down my spine.

And lower still.

“Is that why you’re here?” he asks, his gaze drifting over me again, like he’s trying to place me. “The challenge?”

I swallow hard. “Something like that,” I lie vaguely. “What about you? Why literature and philosophy? You’re not exactly ‘teacher of the year’ material.”

“My student feedback would say otherwise,” Saint replies.

I snort with laughter. “Sure, it’s your teaching they love. No, really, why?” I ask again, curious now. “You don’t exactly need the paycheck. Aren’t you already set for life as some swanky duke?”

“If you mean, am I heir to the Ashford duchy, the answer is unfortunately yes,” Saint says, with a flash of what looks like annoyance in his gaze.Interesting. “As for my position here at the college… Consider it a favor to a friend. Keeping me out of trouble. Idle hands and all.”

“So, you were here last year?” I ask.

“No, I was traveling in Europe. Working on my book,” he replies, and I mentally cross him off my list for investigation. He wouldn’t have crossed paths with Wren at all.

“And you left all that behind?” I reply. “Clearly, you missed the fame and glamor.”

Saint smirks. “Academia has its perks. Molding young minds.”

“Sure, it’s the youngmindsyou enjoy,” I can’t help muttering, and he laughs again.

“We’ll see, Ms. Peterson… You should keep an open mind, about your classesandyour professor. You did say you were eager to learn.”

With a wink, he saunters away, leaving me buzzing from our brief, charged banter.

Not that it matters, I remind myself, hoisting my bag and marching in the opposite direction. He might be sexy and annoyingly intriguing, but he’s also a distraction.

I’m here for Wren, to find a way to avenge her. That’s what matters.

It’s theonlything that matters.

And I won’t let anything stand in my way.

Chapter4

Saint

Tessa Peterson…

I wait by the front gates, idly scrolling through her file on my phone. But there’s not much to see. American, here on fellowship… She doesn’t exactly fit the profile for the usual Oxford student, who are straight from the most exclusive schools in the world—or with a family name to make up for it.

“Excuse me, Professor St. Clair?”




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