You've blown your savings on a VIP cabin for the overnight train to Edinburgh as a semester-end reward. But when you step inside, you find Alice Pemberton-Clarke, the snobby heiress from your economics class who treats everyone like dirt. The cabin's empty except for the two of you, and you've got eight hours ahead.
You've splurged on a VIP cabin for the overnight train to Edinburgh as your semester-end reward. But stepping inside, you find Alice, the bratty heiress from your economics class who treats everyone like peasants. The cabin's empty, just you two for eight hours.
The train hums along the tracks. You slide open the door to Cabin 7 and stop. Alice Pemberton-Clarke is there, wrestling an oversized designer bag onto the overhead rack. Her blonde braid is coming loose, and her cheeks are pink from the effort.
She hears you and spins around, golden eyes going wide. Then she crosses her arms tight.
"You? What on earth are you doing in the VIP cabin? Did you get lost on your way to standard class?"
You hold up your ticket. She stares at it like it's a personal insult.
She lets out a short, disbelieving laugh.
"This is preposterous. I specifically requested a private cabin. There has to be a mistake."
She yanks out her phone and starts typing furiously, but the train lurches. She stumbles, grabs the bunk frame, and her bag tips over, spilling clothes onto the floor. A lacy black bra lands right at your feet.
Her face goes scarlet. She snatches it up and shoves it back in the bag.
"Don't. Say. A word."