Page 6 of Outcast

“The academy is now the training ground for the ruling classes of Great Britain,” she said. “My family has attended for centuries. Father’s the Secretary of State for the Supreme Court. He practically runs the country and makes all the most important decisions.”

My brows rose. We’d also studied a bit of British politics at Park Prep. “Really, what do the Prime Minister and the rest of the cabinet do, while your father’s the de-facto King of England?”

Blake, the runway model lookalike, snickered from behind. “Underwood’s father is an administrator who barely serves on the cabinet.”

My head jerked back. He was following us?

Charlotte’s face turned purple with rage.

I smiled, imagining Noelle standing beside me. “We had insecure girls at Park Prep who tried to make themselves more important, too. I guess England isn’t much different from the States.”

She clenched her teeth. “Get out, you low-born Yank. You don’t belong here.”

I smoothed down the lapels of my blazer. “Mercia Academy can’t be that exclusive if they let a lowly Yank jump the waiting list, can it?”

Charlotte paused beside a bench with a gold plaque etched with the name of the person who had donated it to the school. I don’t know whether my timing was off, or if she’d deliberately paused at the bench with the name of an Underwood ancestor, or if her family had donated all the benches, but I would have colored myself impressed if I hadn’t just been threatened and insulted.

She tossed her hair. “Hobson probably used her feminine wiles on the headmaster.”

Blake grinned. “I’d let her in for a chance of those wiles.”

I rolled my eyes and let out a weary sigh. “Can you stop the puerile speculations and just show me to my room, please?”

Charlotte turned on her heel. “Find it yourself. And enjoy a life of torment and solitude with rancid-Rita!”

I shook my head, watching her storm off down the path and back toward the main teaching block like an offended cat. She’d been so desperate to demonstrate her superiority, she’d exaggerated her father’s importance in British politics. I might have kept quiet and not called her out if she hadn’t been so disparaging.

“Emilia,” murmured Blake in that smooth, smoky voice. “I’ll escort you to Elder House and help you get comfortable.”

I glanced around for someone—anyone not associated with either Charlotte and that hostile Edward Mercia, but nobody else was roaming the pathway. Twenty feet behind us, Edward and Henry stood shoulder-to-shoulder, probably planning their next bout of insults and glaring. I was left with Blake, the only friendly face, even if he did agree that I’d slept my way into the academy.

He placed a hand on the small of my back and leaned forward, his face so close to mine, the warmth of his skin and his intoxicating scent engulfed my senses. His gaze moved from my eyes to my mouth, and I felt myself staring at his sensual lips. A lash of hot desire whipped through my core as I imagined what they might taste like, and my body swayed towards him as if drawn by an invisible force.

“Come on, I won’t bite…” he murmured. “Unless that’s your kink.”

I exhaled a shuddering breath and ignored my arousal. “Thank you. I’d appreciate it.”

Edward crossed the distance and curled his lip. “Blake, if you return covered in fleas, I’ll throw you into the lake.”

“Fleas?” For reasons I couldn’t even fathom, Edward’s words hit like a slap. I jerked back from Blake, heart pounding with an odd mix of confusion and desire. “H-how old are you, five?”

Blake huffed out a laugh and looked at me as though I were a sugar-coated pretzel..

“When one lies down with a dog, the inevitable result is fleas.” Edward’s tight, wintry smile and frigid stare said it all. I was stupid for not understanding he’d indirectly called me a bitch. “Enjoy your next few hours of peace, Miss Hobson. Life at Mercia Academy is about to become unbearable.”

Chapter 3

After casting that asshole, Edward, one last glare, I let Blake guide me down the magnolia tree path. He returned his hand to the small of my back and gave me an apologetic smile. Even through the thick, woolen blazer, the heat radiating from his fingertips penetrated my flesh. It spread around my back and down my belly, where it swirled around my core, making it pulse in time with the pounding of my heart. His spicy, sandalwood scent filled my nostrils and heightened my alertness.

I studied his features from the corner of my eye. The way those beautiful lips curved into an amused smile told me all I needed to know about Blake Simpson-West. This was a guy who knew the effect he had on women and enjoyed using it to get whatever he desired.

My breaths became shallow, and I bit down hard on my bottom lip from reacting to his touch. I willed myself to step away, to show him he wasn’t as irresistible as he probably thought, but my traitorous body wouldn’t move.

“Are you alright?” Blake asked with a chuckle. “You seem a little flushed.”

“I’m fine.” The words came out a little more clipped than I intended.

Blake’s eyes bored into the side of my face as he ran his hand up and down my back, making my skin tingle. “I seem to have a peculiar effect on you. Why is that?”