Falling for the Rebel Heir

‘Smart alec,’ he said, but what he thought was, Be careful what you wish for…

‘Night,’ he continued. ‘A sky of dark blue. Market umbrellas like triangular black holes against the squat, square mud buildings surrounding the town centre. Their dark windows like empty eyes looking out over the noisy milling crowd. I pass a group of young men leaning against a building, smoking, laughing, telling dirty jokes.’

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.