The Professor (Forbidden Encounters 1)

Bryce rests his hands on my shoulders. “Everyone here lives in this town and they’re discrete. No one back home will know you’ve been here. I promise. I had to involve the chef and a few others, Abby. I can’t cook worth a damn. I’d never risk trying and end up poisoning you.”

I snicker and it turns into giggles. What is wrong with me? I’m acting as if Bryce and I are committing some unforgivable crime. It’s just dinner for goodness’ sake. “I’m sorry, I just...I can’t help feeling on edge. It isn’t just that you’re a Marshall. You’re also my professor. I don’t want you getting into trouble with the school.”

His sigh rings with a bit of worry too. “I know. I’m willing to take the risk. Doesn’t that tell you anything?”

I swallow, taking comfort in his warm palms on my shoulders. Yeah, it tells me a lot. Eyes locking with his, I admit, “I like you a lot too.”

He smiles. “Trust me.”

“I do.” And it’s surprising. I don’t trust easily. The tension seeps from my shoulders. “So, when do we eat? I’m starving.”

Bryce’s relieved chuckle tickles me in the lower region. Being around him constantly makes me think about sex and it’s a little scary. I don’t want to get too involved too soon. It’s always smart to take things slow.

He leads me to the table and pulls out my chair. “Welcome to casa de Bryce.”

More giggles erupt, and I quickly swallow them. I sure do giggle a lot around him. Like a silly school girl. “Thanks.”

I’m all too aware of the heat of his body as he settles beside me. I wouldn’t be too worried if the setting wasn’t so romantic. The room is lit by candles, there are flowers and champagne. The sliding glass doors provide us with a magnificent view of the darkening sky that is already illuminated by the moon and stars. I gulp. It’s beautiful, like any romantic five-star restaurant, and I want Bryce to kiss me in this setting and never stop. Maybe coming to his house wasn’t the best idea. There are bedrooms at our disposal. Things could go further than just dinner.

“Hey, are you okay?”

The concern in his voice yanks me from my lustful thoughts. “Huh? Sure. Fine.”

He narrows his eyes at me but he doesn’t say anything.

A few minutes later and our dinner date is underway. It starts out with appetizers and champagne. I’ve never had champagne before in my life. Four courses and multiple glasses of vintage red wine later, I am so into Bryce, I don’t want the night to end. He’s amazing. He’s so...so...Bryce. Funny, charming, considerate, smart, everything in one deliciously toned package. No one is supposed to be this perfect. Jaw propped on one hand, I stare at him. Hard. There has to be something wrong with him.

“I’m boring you, aren’t I?”

I blink. “What? No. Why would you say that?”

Bryce twists in his seat to face me. “You asked me why I decided on a career in education. I was explaining why and then you started glaring at me.” His brows were drawn together in a slight frown, but humor resonates in his words and there’s a gleam in his eyes. “I know economics isn’t an exciting topic.”

I feel my eyes widen. “No, that’s not it at all. You’re not boring me.” I’ve been hanging onto his every word for the last two hours until my pesky doubt started creeping in.

“So, why are you staring at me with such...intensity.” He laughs.

I adore the deep, seductive rumble of his laugh. “Well…” I blow out a breath. “Honestly?”

“Please, honestly.”

“I’m wondering what’s wrong with you. You can’t be perfect. No one is.”

Bryce blinks, and I hold my breath. Did I offend him? He wanted honesty. Panic mounts at the thought that I’ve ruined the amazing night with my loose tongue. But his lips slowly curl into a smile. Then he throws his head back and laughs. The sound echoes in the dining room, making me smile. Relief floods me.

“You are…” He shakes his head, still chuckling, “Incredibly refreshing.”

I snort. “Women fall at your feet, I take it.” I know they do, and I don’t blame them. I’m tempted to throw myself at him right now. The way he strokes his chin thoughtfully, brings attention to his square jaw and the appealing shadow of stubble is simply alluring. Then there’s the teasing glint in his eyes that borders on seductive whenever he looks at me.

“Unfortunately, none I’ve ever wanted.”

“There are tons of pictures of you with different females on your arm at various events. You mean to tell me that you didn’t want any of them?” Those women were gorgeous. I’m talking leggy blondes with humongous boobs, socialites, models. Jealousy is gnawing at my gut just thinking about them.

Bryce drapes an arm over my chair, bringing our faces closer. “Honestly?” He mimics me.

So I do the same. “Please, honestly.”

“I don’t want to sound like a dick, but those women didn’t mean much more to me than companionship for a night. They all saw dollar signs when they looked at me. Most women do. It’s been a struggle finding someone who’s into me and not my bank account.”