Diamonds in the Rough. Michelle Madow

after sitting out in the sun all day. Ramon knew she was underage and would give her a virgin daiquiri, but she was curious to see Hunter’s reaction. Was he cool, or would he call her out?

      Hunter raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Ramon placed the drink in front of her.

      “What brings you to the Diamond?” Peyton asked, sipping her drink.

      “It’s slightly embarrassing, but I’ll tell you if you promise not to judge me,” he said in that ridiculously sexy accent of his.

      “That’s only fair.” She smiled, trying not to bounce her legs in anticipation.

      “I’m meeting someone from Match.com.”

      “No way.” She laughed, but composed herself, since she’d promised not to judge him. “Why does someone like you have to use a dating website?”

      “Someone like me?”

      She gave him a once-over—tall, built, mysterious and a gorgeous Australian accent. “I would have thought you had a girlfriend, or at least would have no problem meeting girls at clubs and bars,” she said. “They probably can’t stay away from you.”

      “It’s tough to meet people when you’re new to a country, know nobody and most of your colleagues are twenty years older than you,” Hunter said, taking a swig of his drink. “Plus, my best mate from home met his fiancée on Match, so he convinced me to give it a go.”

      “And where’s your date now?”

      “We’re not supposed to meet for another twenty minutes.” He glanced at his watch. “But it’s my first time here, and these hotels in Vegas are massive—I didn’t want to get lost. I’ve also never met someone from one of these sites before. I figured that grabbing a drink first might ease the nerves.”

      “Cheers to that.” Peyton raised her glass, and he clinked it with hers. She smiled over the rim, her stomach flipping when he smiled back at her. “I hope you don’t mind if I stay here while I finish my drink?” she asked. “I’ll leave before your date gets here, of course.”

      “She’s texting me when she gets to the entrance of the hotel, so you’re free to save her seat until she arrives.”

      They chatted for the next fifteen minutes, and Peyton learned about life in Australia and how it was different from America. It sounded like the Australians were much more liberal and open-minded than Americans. Peyton thought she would like it there, and she told him so.

      Then she spotted Madison Lockhart sitting across the bar with her short-haired blonde friend, Larissa. Peyton hadn’t liked Madison since she’d broken Savannah’s heart over the summer by kissing Damien—the guy Savannah had a crush on—in front of her, just to hurt her. It was cruel, and Peyton and her sisters had kept their distance from Madison ever since.

      Madison had her phone out, the camera pointed at Peyton. Larissa glanced at Peyton, laughed at whatever was on the screen, and whispered something to Madison. Then Madison’s eyes met Peyton’s, and she lowered her phone.

      Everyone at Goodman knew who Hunter was—the girls talked about him, because he was the only hot teacher in the upper school—but Madison wouldn’t take pictures of him with Peyton and sell them out, would she?

      Of course she would. Madison had already proven herself to be a bitch who hated Peyton and her sisters. If this was her latest stunt, there was no way in hell Peyton would let her get away with it.

      “You could do a semester in Australia while you’re attending university.” Hunter’s voice zapped Peyton’s focus away from Madison and Larissa, reminding her she was mid­conversation with him. “Studying abroad is an excellent way to immerse yourself in another culture.”

      “I’ll look into it,” she said vaguely, since she didn’t feel like getting into the I’m-not-going-to-college conversation. “Anyway, I see some people I know. I should head over and say hi to them.”

      She planned on saying a lot more to them than that, but Hunter didn’t need to know the details.

      “My date’s almost here, anyway,” Hunter said with what Peyton thought was disappointment. “Thanks for keeping me company while I waited.”

      “I enjoyed talking with you.” She stood and straightened her skirt. “Good luck with your internet date. I hope she isn’t too weird.”

      “Thanks.” He chuckled. “I hope so, too. I’ll see you on Monday.”

      Peyton hurried away, feeling bad about leaving so abruptly—but she had to reach Madison and Larissa before they paid their checks.

      She held Madison’s gaze as she approached, as if daring her to back down. The girl didn’t flinch, not even when Peyton was close enough to notice that Madison’s eyes were a similar vibrant shade of blue as hers and her sisters’. She must wear colored contacts.

      “What do you want?” Larissa snickered, ending the stare-down. “You looked pretty busy throwing yourself all over Mr. Sterling. I mean Hunter.” She held her hands under her chin and batted her eyes dramatically. “He didn’t reject you…did he?”

      “Of course he didn’t reject me.” Peyton glared at Larissa. “But when I spotted the two of you doing something that looked suspiciously like taking pictures of us on Madison’s phone, I had to make sure that wasn’t what was going on. Because if it was, and those pictures got out, he could get fired.” She turned to Madison, who was holding her phone on her lap. “So tell me—were you taking pictures of us, or am I just being paranoid?”

      “Calm down,” Madison said evenly. “No one’s going to get fired.”

      “That wasn’t an answer.” Peyton reached forward and grabbed the phone out of Madison’s hands.

      “Hey!” Madison’s mouth dropped, and she swiped for the phone, but Peyton held it out of her reach. “Give that back.”

      “Not until I make sure there aren’t any pictures on here of me and Hunter.” She clicked to go into the phone, and huffed when it was locked. “What’s your password?”

      “Seriously?” Madison said. “You expect me to give you my password? No way. Give it back.”

      She made a move for it again and missed, but not before Larissa got it in her grip. Larissa and Peyton held it tightly, glaring at each other like bulls in a ring, neither of them letting go. The hotel guests nearby were staring, but Peyton didn’t care. She was not allowing those pictures to stay on that phone.

      “Is there a problem here?” a stern voice asked from behind—Jackson. He must have looked intimidating, because Larissa let go of the phone, leaving it in Peyton’s grasp. She turned to face him. He was business as usual, although she swore she saw a flicker of amusement in his hazel eyes. “Well?” he said, looking between Peyton, Larissa and Madison like they were all little kids.

      Peyton raised her chin, refusing to be belittled. “I have reason to believe there are pictures of me on Madison’s phone that were taken against my will and need to be deleted,” she said, mustering as much snobby-hotel-heiress tone as she could manage without being over-the-top. “I was about to check, but Madison refused to give me her password.”

      Jackson took the phone from Peyton and handed it to Madison. “Enter your password, and then give the phone back to Miss Diamond. If she’s mistaken and there are no pictures of her that were taken without her permission, then there’s no harm done. If there are pictures, there will be serious legal repercussions initiated by Mr. Diamond if you don’t allow them to be deleted. And if you refuse to cooperate by not entering your password, the phone will be confiscated under the assumption that you have something to hide. Do you understand?”

      “And who exactly are you?” Larissa crossed her arms, although her nasally voice didn’t sound as confident as it had earlier.

      “I’m Miss Diamond’s bodyguard.” Jackson