Lori glared. But I gotta get some sleep. Isn’t that where you want to go?

Jude nodded. He doesn’t strike me as the type to make decisions lightly. For him to want more than just some fun with you, he must really like what he sees so far.

All around, he answered cryptically. But it’s Morocco you hear in my voice. My father’s homeland.That explained it. He had the kind of voice that made her imagine moonlit desert plains and the spicy fragrance of incense and woodsmoke. Your mother wasn’t Moroccan, though?

Born and raised in Paris, he confirmed, his sensual mouth curving at the corners. She and my father met in France. After they were mated, he brought her back with him to our tribe’s Darkhaven in his country.Jehan’s dark brows quirked. A relic of a term. He shrugged it off, but something mysterious flickered in his mesmerizing gaze. My father’s Breed line is very old. Its roots go deep into Moroccan soil. Burrowed in almost as stubbornly as the old man’s heels.What about you? Melena asked, genuinely curious.

Jehan inclined his head, almost courtly in its tilt. To my father’s eternal regret, his eldest son’s feet refused to stay put. Despite the shackle of obligation he’s tried to affix to them.As they spoke, the door opened again and the blond warrior came in. He grinned, his hazel eyes bouncing off Jehan for a second before fixing on Melena. I see Prince Jehan is already trying to dazzle you with his long, boring pedigree.

Melena swung a questioning look on the enigmatic warrior. Prince?

Jehan grunted under his breath, but didn’t deny it. What are you doing here, Sav? You know damned well Lazaro’s orders were that no one enter this room or speak to Melena without his permission.How long until he saw me for what I really was and pulled away? I quit going. I tried…once. I made it all the way to the parking lot, but when I saw the other students, I couldn’t do it. By then there was a video posted online someone had taken. Harrison had it removed, mostly for his dignity, but everyone saw that I hit him. I couldn’t sit in his class, hell, any class where the teacher had been warned about me. That was November. December I missed finals, and my expulsion letter came before Christmas.

Terrified. Paralyzed with it and unable to say how much until this moment. Telling my mother meant she’d know, but I haven’t told her the whole truth. I can’t stand the thought of her looking at me any differently, or seeing her bad choices echoed in me.Being a villain and being guilty are two different things. I still could have ripped apart that marriage. Maybe it’s my mother’s karma biting me in the ass, or maybe it’s because I’m incredibly selfish, but I will screw this up somehow if we try.

Let me make that call. His chair squeaked against the hardwood as he pushed back from the table, but he didn’t drop my hands. Instead, he tugged, pulling me to my feet and then into his lap. His strong arms surrounded me, and my head fit perfectly against his neck. I’m so sorry for what happened.What? I asked. Why on earth would you be sorry? You’ve been through hell. I’m an adulterer. There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. If anything, you should be tossing me off your lap and heading for the nearest exit, not pulling me closer. He did just that, one of his hands dwarfing the side of my face as he stroked my cheek with his thumb. I don’t even know what we’re thinking. You only have six months before you graduate.