To Professor, With Love (Forbidden Men 2)

Yet I had.

I fully understood all the paranoia was just that, junk in my brain I couldn’t shove out. But when Dr. Frenetti popped his head into my office first thing before I’d even taught my first class, I squeaked out my alarm and nearly peed my pants as I leapt to my feet.

“I just checked Gamble’s current grade online. Looks like he’s doing better already.”

Hearing Noel’s name right out of the gate like that didn’t help my anxiety. Heartbeat whooshing loudly through my ears, I could barely hear myself answer after I cleared my throat. “Y-yes, he...he did very well on the make-up paper I let him turn in.”

The dean lifted an eyebrow. “And he actually earned it?”

I blinked. What the hell kind of question was that? “Of course.”

Smile a little gloating, Frenetti gave a knowing nod. “That’s what I thought. He just needed a little time to warm up to the curriculum. I glanced over your syllabus, and it did look pretty strenuous.”

I turned my attention to my computer to keep from rolling my eyes. “Yes, well...it took a pretty intensive one-on-one session to finally get through to him.”

My face heated as soon as the words left my mouth. God, did that sound like a sexual innuendo or what? All I could think about was the intensive one-on-one session we’d had Saturday night. In my bedroom. But my supervisor didn’t seem to notice any naughty meaning behind my words. He nodded, pleased. “Good to hear it.” Then he disappeared before I had to bumble my way through any more mortifying dialogue.

Beyond grateful it wasn’t a Tuesday, so I wouldn’t be teaching his class, I skimmed over my lesson plans for the day until I was almost late to class. Yet still, I felt utterly exposed when I stepped in front of the room. Eyes turned to me, and I knew—just knew—they’d see everything. Know everything. Each time a pair of students leaned toward each other to whisper conspiringly, I knew they were talking about what I’d done. Every unexpected abrupt noise had me leaping out of my skin. And every dark-haired guy I saw had my insides jarring with an instant adrenaline rush.

I hated it. This was too much drama, and I was not a drama seeker. My muscles were so tense by the time I finished teaching for the day, I took a handful of painkillers as soon as I retreated to my haven. Leaving my office door open, I collapsed into the chair behind my desk and closed my eyes, relieved it was over. I’d survived one day, and no one seemed to know a thing.

“I would so not make it as a spy,” I muttered to myself.

Covering truths and pretending everything was fine and dandy wore the snot out of me. Like a ragged, limp doll, I just sat there, trying to recover my scattered senses.

And then someone tapped on my doorframe, giving me heart failure.

I yelped out an embarrassing girl-scream and jumped to my feet.

“Sorry.” Raising both hands in apology, Philip stepped into my office. His eyes begged forgiveness as he cringed. “It’s just me.”

I sank back into my chair, setting my hand over my heart. Wow, did I need to relax or what?

Seating himself across my desk from me, Philip drew in a deep breath before asking, “So, how much trouble am I in, and what can I do to get you to forgive me?”

Huh? Forgive him? “For what?” I asked dumbly before it hit me. Oh, Lord. I’d lost it. The date, of course.

“For Saturday?” he asked, looking uneasy. Then he gave a nervous laugh and shifted in his chair. “You don’t have to pretend it wasn’t a big deal. I know I was unforgivably rude for not even phoning you, but something came up and I was called out of town, and...” He looked to be all out of excuses. The helpless expression remained as he finished, “What can I do to make this up to you?”

I was already shaking my head and waving my hand before I began talking. “Really, it’s okay.” I mean, I had my own guilty burden at the moment. Who was I to be holding anything against anyone else? “I’m sure your...uh, situation was unavoidable.”

Plus I kind of felt bad about already forgetting our date that never happened.

He blinked and straightened his back. “So...you forgive me? Just like that?” He arched an eyebrow and sent me an untrusting glance. “Really?”

His perplexity was adorable. I laughed. “If it makes you feel better, I could give you twenty lashes, but whips and chains aren’t really my thing.”

When his gaze turned heated with interest, I suddenly realized just how bad a double meaning those words had sounded. God, why did I keep blurting out tawdry things today? Head heavy from all the horrified blood rushing to my cheeks, I slapped my hand over my mouth before muffling out the exclamation, “Oh, my God. I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”

Chuckling in delight, Philip inspected me from a pair of brown eyes glittering with approval. “I didn’t hear anything if you didn’t want me to.”

Clearing my throat and grasping for the last shred of my dignity, I dropped my hand and discreetly murmured, “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Does this mean we can try for another date again...soon?”

I opened my mouth, startled by the question. “Uh...I...Well, I’m not sure. You did stand me up and neglected to contact me again for two days.”

My naughty whip slip-up must’ve given him some confidence, though, because he merely winked. “I’ll give you some time to think about it, then. So...call me whenever you change your mind.”