Beauty and the Professor (A Modern Fairy Tale Duet 1)

“You talk like you’re so old.”

“I am so old.”

He had fifteen years on her, but she was positive he could run five miles—and a lot faster than she could. His body was in ridiculous shape. “You keep up pretty well.”

His huff of laughter placated her. One day he would believe in them as much as she did. Until then…well, until then she would enjoy every second they spent together.

She plucked the roll of paper towels from beside him and replaced it on the bookshelf. While there, she scanned the older texts that she imagined had been here before. One shelf was noticeably brighter than the others—recent

ly cleaned, no doubt—and contained a few books she recognized from his house.

The other half had the composition notebooks he was always scribbling his ideas in, new and stacked up. He would write something brilliant, an offhand thought that she would consider from every angle before confirming it was correct.

His mind was a treasure trove, and his body, she was finding, was the map. She could follow the sleek lines, traverse the hard-packed muscles and salty earth and learn him inch by inch, but she’d be no closer to her goal. Great sex would never be enough for her. She wanted him.

Chapter Six

Erin

Footsteps came from outside the door, rapidly approaching. Another student to see Blake? She wasn’t sure, but she had taken up enough of his time.

“I’ll get going,” she said with a small smile.

He groaned. “It’s going to kill me being so close to you, knowing you’re on the same campus, maybe even in the same building, but not able to touch you.”

She grinned. “Maybe I can visit you in office hours. Not too often, mind you, but I’m sure you have a few more lessons to teach me.”

He laughed, and she would have laughed with him, except she was too stunned by the sight of him happy with abandon. So distracted that she only barely registered the turning of the office doorknob.

The door slammed open, rattling the bookshelf and sending dust into the air. She coughed, taking in the woman who stood in the doorway. Even if another student had come, Erin would have expected her to wait outside, as she had done, or at least to knock. But now she saw this was no student. The woman was older, dressed in a sleek suit jacket and pencil skirt. Her hair was a coppery red, pale enough to border on strawberry blonde. Her skin had the translucence of a natural redhead peppered with freckles.

And Erin knew her.

“Professor Jenkins,” she said in surprise.

Professor Jenkins turned to her. “Ms. Rodriguez. What are you doing here?”

God, what was she doing here? Her fingers flipping through Blake’s personal notebook stash. Her clothes—thankfully back in place but still rumpled.

“Cleaning,” she said.

Professor Jenkins blinked once, then twice. She spoke to Blake. “You have a maid for your office?”

Admittedly it was a bit strange, considering the room was smaller than the average bedroom. But Blake was smart—he caught on quickly. Benefit of sleeping with a Rhodes scholar, she supposed.

“Erin cleans my house,” he answered. “I asked her to come by today. The office was a mess when I got here.”

Hah! And he didn’t even technically lie.

Professor Jenkins’s cool green eyes gave Erin a quick appraisal. Disheveled hair from their lovemaking, plain jeans, and a T-shirt—standard fare for a student, but there were no designer labels here. Just as fast, the woman lost interest in her, her expression making Erin’s lack of appeal clear.

The maid. The hired help. Nobody at all.

Once again, she was dismissed for what she did to pay the bills. Erin was used to it among the other students at the private university. No one was gauche enough to say anything about it. She couldn’t afford the thirty-dollar shots of sake or bottles of champagne they liked to order. Eventually she’d found different friends. Other scholarship kids or ones who had the money but didn’t flaunt it. But Erin never forgot how out of place she’d felt, how little.

Maybe she’d been naïve, but she’d expected more from a professor. Erin was a hard worker, someone who paid her bills on time, in full. But in this private university, where her tuition was covered half on scholarship and half on loans, she was just a charity case.

Professor Jenkins turned to Blake. “Well, then,” she said brightly. “I’m glad you’re taking your new position here seriously.”