off once since her graduation party at the Yale Club a little over two weeks ago。
After ditching Vanessa Abrams？s small apartment in dingy and weird Williamsburg； with no
intention of moving back to the crazy world she used to call home； Blair had decided to live at the
Yale club。 She and Lord Marcus had met in the elevator； and his hot accent and neatly ironed jeans
had gotten to her right away。 Fate had it that their rooms were side by side； and she could imagine
the feel of his sexy English breath on her neck even before they？d kissed？which had happened that
very night。 After pouring her heart out to him over six or seven cosmos； Blair was so sure she？d
found the love of her life； she practically threw herself at him。 She was too tipsy？ and he was too
much of a gentleman？to do more than kiss。 But allthat was about to change。
Blair draped the sheets over her body and lit a cigarette； striking a pose that said；I？m on my
honeymoon and worn out from doing it； but what the hell； let？s do it again 。 She grabbed the
newspaper off of the floor and propped up the front page so it looked like she was reading it。
There。 Perfect。 An intellectual sexpot。 A worldly woman who read all about international
crises？and preferred to discuss said crisesin bed 。 If only she had a pair of vintage fifties reading
glasses to perch on the tip of her nose。
All the better to see you naked with！
As if on cue； Lord Marcus flung the bedroom door open and Blair turned her head slowly； as if
she could barely stand to break away from the current poultry deficit in Asia。 He was wearing a
perfectly tailored charcoal summer suit with an olive James Perse T…shirt underneath th