Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
We walk in silence for the next few minutes, but it no longer feels awkward. I’m simply comforted by his quiet presence at my side.
“This is my place,” I say when we arrive at my apartment block. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“I’m taking you to your door,” he counters in that stern tone that messes with my head.
“So bossy,” I tease, even as I allow him to follow me up the stairs to the second floor.
“I think you like it,” he remarks.
My cheeks heat, and I fish in my pocket for my keys to distract myself from his allure. Because he’s right. His bossiness makes something distinctly feminine inside me melt.
We’re treading dangerously close to flirting.
Or maybe we have been all along. Our banter holds an undeniably hot undercurrent.
I put my key in the lock, but his hand closes over mine. My skin tingles where we make contact, and a soft gasp escapes me.
Suddenly, I’m pinned by his dark stare. “Call me immediately if you need anything.”
“I will,” I breathe. “If my stalker texts me again, I’ll contact you.”
His thumb rubs my knuckles. “I’m here to support you. And not just to show up when he’s harassing you. You can talk to me anytime. I know this is a scary situation. You don’t have to go through it alone.”
I lick my lips, and his eyes flare as he follows the traitorous sign of my desire.
“Rand.” I’m far too shaky when I say his name. “This isn’t appropriate.”
“I think we moved past appropriate the moment you stepped into my office yesterday. I know you feel it too. Your pupils are dilated, and your pulse is elevated.”
To prove his point, he touches my wrist.
“You’re my professor,” I counter weakly.
“Barely,” he reasons. “We’re almost the same age.”
I shake my head. “That doesn’t change anything. I can’t risk my place on my course. I won’t.”
He slowly withdraws his touch. “I won’t force my company on you. I don’t want you to regret anything that happens between us.”
“Nothing can happen between us.” Why does my whisper sound so strained?
He steps toward me, and my head tips back. My lips part, already tingling in anticipation of his kiss.
He simply stares down at me for agonizing heartbeats, his eyes flicking over each of my features. Finally, that unbearably sexy smirk tilts his mouth.
“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
He pulls away, and cold air closes around me in the absence of his body heat. My skin pebbles.
“Go inside,” he commands. “And lock the door behind you.”
I obey, darting inside and snapping the door closed between us. His low, arrogant chuckle sounds through the wood. My insides turn molten.
I want my professor, and he doesn’t seem remotely worried about having a forbidden relationship with his student.
17
KAROLINA
The next morning, I attend my lecture on medieval art without incident. I’m grateful that Rand doesn’t teach this class. I’ll have to face him again on campus in a few days, and I have no idea how I’ll make it through his lecture without thinking about his hand touching mine.
In our private moments, it’s so tempting to interact with him like he’s my equal, not my professor.
Allowing myself to get swept up in our undeniable chemistry would be beyond reckless.
No matter how he’s consumed my thoughts since our not-date at the café.
Now that class has finished for the day, I can’t even go for a long run to burn off my frustrated energy. Instead, I decide to go for a walk through the more populated parts of town.
This is an excellent opportunity to explore Clifford’s Tower: the ruined keep of a Norman castle originally built on the orders of William the Conqueror.
I stare up at the ancient masonry, which sits atop a steep hill that once served as a defensive bank. A carpet of lush green grass ascends towards the bright blue Yorkshire sky, and the sun is angled low to frame the imposing tower.
I breathe deeply, allowing myself a moment to bask in the beauty of this historic place. Gratitude floods my chest with warmth.
Five years ago, Karolina Taylor was running from the nightmare of her foster home. Despite all the horrors I’ve endured, I’ve built a good life for myself here in York.
I won’t allow my stalker to take this from me.
As though the bastard senses my errant thought about him, my phone pings.
My gut tightens, but I force myself to check the message. Ignoring him won’t keep me safe, no matter how badly I want to pretend he isn’t a threat.
Anonymous
You look beautiful in the sunshine. Did you know you have auburn threads in your hair? They’re shining right now.
I force a breath into my tight chest.
Karolina
I know my own hair color. Fuck off.
Anonymous
That’s my brave girl.
My heart races. This sick asshole likes my defiance.
Replying is only giving him what he wants: access to me.