I want a princess

of course, at the table right by the toaster. Beside her were Beth and Jasleen. It would be a full interrogation, then. Cherry settled down into the last empty seat and gave them her breezi

im by now, anyway. I heard he was getting the grand tour.” “Maybe they have,” said Jasleen. “But they’d rather die than tell us anything.” There was a strict hierarchy at the Academy, you see. Well— less a hierarchy, more a clear boundary. Teaching staff on one side, and everyone else—admin, I.T., finance, cleaners and groundskeepers—on the other. Which Cherry didn’t mind. Their side of the line was, after all, much more fun. “Fine,” she sighed, Clearly, she wasn’t getting out of this one. “He’s…” Rose filled the gap. “Tall, dark and handsome?” “Well, yeah,” Cherry admitted. “That about sums it up. Oh, and—” “Incredibly well-dressed?” Jas supplied. “Ye-e-e-s,” Cherry said. Usually, she and Rose were the only ones who cared about a man’s dress sense. “And—“ “Kind of sexily intimidating?” Beth murmured. “Christ, have you seen him already?”“Cherry,” said a familiar voice. It was deep, and it was smokey, and it was coming from right behind her. Oh. Oh. Moving slowly—she had to maintain some sort of dignity— Cherry turned in her seat to face Ruben Ambjørn. He towered over their little group like a looming angel. He certainly had the bone structure for it—like one of those terribly beautiful statues. Greek, or French, or whatever. She should probably stop thinking about nonsense and

afeteria?” He licked his lips, gave her that little smile again. “I mean I’d like your company. Anywhere.” “Oh.” Oh. Cherry wasn’t usually this slow on the uptake. She blamed the breadth of his shoulders beneath his deep blue suit. Jas had been right. He was incredibly well-dressed. But he’d look far better naked. He was staring at her like there was nothing else in the room. Nothing else in the world. But she shouldn’t be flattered. He was that kind of guy, probably—focused. She wondered if he’d kiss like that, with all that burning intensity. If he did, she might faint.No, she wouldn’t faint. She’d be too busy ripping his clothes off. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I am the Deputy Head of HR, you know.” He rolled his eyes. “Head of this, Deputy of that. This school is ridiculous.” “Academy,” she corrected. He smirked. “Ah, yes. How could I forget?” Then he reached out and captured her hand in his. Just like that. Cherry used casual touches herself, often—they worked psychological wonders, after all—but this? His skin was warm and slightly rough, his hand dwarfing he

rse, he said, “Thank you.” Well, she told herself. She couldn’t change her mind now. He might be sad. And she’d hate to make him sad. Right, because you always put the needs of random men above your own. Cherry pushed that thought away. It was her birthday, for God’s sake. She could take a day off fro