With a roguish swagger he entered their lives. Bright sapphire eyes twinkled under dark, flowing locks. An engaging smile suggested wit and warmth.
“Is this the esteemed class of 10H, house of Tanjil?” Ivan asked with mock superciliousness.
esteemedHe was dressed in a bright red collared shirt of expensive cotton, with the sleeves rolled up, and the tail hanging loosely over tight black denim jeans. As he stood amiably in his long leather boots, his lean, muscular physique was accentuated by the cut of his clothing, and his collar was open, revealing a tanned, smooth torso. A long, white scar traced the groove made by the muscle on his right forearm. Tristram reminded himself that he had never learned its origin.
“It is indeed 10H.” Mrs. O’Malley answered tartly. She regarded his cavali
