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Last Christmas (Private 0.60)

Page 110

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"We have to." Thomas started to take a step toward her, but something stopped him. He looked at her

uncertainly. Was that fear in his eyes? What did he have to be afraid of? "We don't have a choice, Ariana.

They're going to figure out Sergei's missing and question everyone who was on campus. If they find out we

were here, we're more than screwed."

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"I know that," she snapped. "But I'm not going to leave you now, Thomas. Not when we just found each

other," she said more calmly.

Thomas snorted a laugh. "Just found each other? What is this, some kind of

cheesy soap opera?"

Ariana's eyes smoldered with anger. She clutched her arm, digging into her jacket sleeve with her fingernails.

"Don't mock me," she said tersely.

Thomas blinked. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are!" Ariana shouted, startling a crow out of its perch in a nearby tree-sending it squawking

toward the sky.

She stared into his eyes and waited, her teeth clenched. He loved her. She knew he did. He had to love her.

Because if he didn't...

Thomas gazed back at her for a long moment. Looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. Finally,

he stepped forward and took her hand. "I don't want to be away from you either. But Ariana, please. Be

reasonable. If I get caught, I'll lose everything. My family, my friends, my inheritance ..." He looked deep

into her eyes and touched her face with his cold hand. "I'll lose you."

Ariana's heart surged. He did love her. She knew it. She slipped her arms under his and held him tight.

"Okay," she whispered, gripping him tighter with each passing second. His body shook against hers.

"Whatever you want to do. We'll be fine." She lifted her face to his and kissed him. "Trust me. No one will

ever know."

"Okay." Thomas exhaled a shaky breath. His eyes were glassy. "Now let's get out of here."

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He slung his arm over her shoulder and, leaning into each other, they limped toward campus. Ariana breathed

evenly, deliberately, letting the cold, fresh air cleanse her. With every step, she left Sergei farther behind.

Every moment that passed would put more distance between them, until he was nothing but a vague memory,

a kid who might have gone to Easton Academy once. A fading image in an old, yellowed photograph.



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