“Sounds exhausting.”
She had no idea. When we were younger, I’d had my sister Kate to keep me company. Kate usually snuck off at some point, but at least she’d been there. Now she wasn’t speaking to our parents.
“We’ll miss you tonight,” Adam added.
I smiled. “Thanks.” I glanced at my watch. “I have my first meeting with the pro bono advisor in ten minutes. I can meet up after con law, though, if you guys want to grab something to eat later.”
One of the advantages of attending Hannover was their amazing pro bono program. They volunteered heavily within the D.C. community, giving free tax assistance, organizing food drives, working with middle and high school students, and overseeing an incredible guardian ad litem program representing children in the court system. I’d just been elected as the first-year representative for the pro bono board.
“I’d better go; I don’t want to be late. Let’s do lunch at Moe’s, okay?”
Adam and Caitlin nodded as I stood up from my seat. I walked over to the elevators, heading up to the fourth-floor faculty wing. I got off the elevator and followed the signs to room 401. I knocked until I heard a muffled “come in” on the other side.
I turned the knob and froze, my earlier discomfort returning with a vengeance.
Speak of the devil . . .
Professor Canter stared back at me, the same look of surprise on his face that I figured was mirrored in mine.
People always remarked on my composure, and considering the years I’d spent learning to hide my emotions when Kate and I were paraded around for campaign stops and photo ops, I knew it was solid. Most of the time. The trick was that I could be calm when I was in control. When I was prepared, I was fine. When things were unexpected, I flailed. A lot.
Like right fucking now.
The moment our gazes locked it was as if someone had vacuumed all of the air out of the room, leaving a whole lot of awkward with a side of lust lingering around me.
We’d never been this close before. There were always rows between us, the classroom and our roles in it, a barrier I didn’t dare cross. But now? Seeing him sitting behind his desk—stacks of papers around him, an old Starbucks cup—
I couldn’t help but stare.
He was dressed in a suit—black and expensive; tie—gray. He wore a snowy white dress shirt that contrasted with his tanned skin. His hair was almost the color of his suit—more black than brown, his eyes a shade lighter. He had an interesting face—not handsome, exactly. Rather, his face was hard and strong, and foolishly enough, made me think of warriors and conquerors and men with swords. He looked ruthless, and given the few interactions we’d had, I didn’t doubt he was.
He was more than a little rough around the edges. I didn’t know how to explain it—just knew it when I saw it—but he lacked the casual air of someone who’d grown up with money. He didn’t wear the tie like he was born to it, instead he wore it with an air of defiance. Like he was his own man and wasn’t afraid to tell the world to go fuck itself if he didn’t meet their expectations.
He remained still under my inspection, my gaze impossible for either one of us to ignore. After the shit he pulled in class—the way he watched me, how often he called on me, the smug satisfaction in his eyes when he got a rise out of me—I didn’t feel the least bit sorry.
One dark eyebrow rose as he leaned back in his chair. “Are you finished?”
There it was again, that voice. Something about it needled me. Maybe it was his confidence that seeped over into arrogance, or the fact that he didn’t play by the rules I’d been raised to follow as though they were gospel. Everything about him seemed to not give two fucks about manners and social niceties. As much as it pissed me off, I also envied him.
I lifted my gaze to meet his, momentarily at a loss for words.
I cleared my throat. “I was looking for the pro bono office. I’m the new 1L rep,” I added.
His eyes widened slightly, his fingers skimming along his jaw, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk.
I wanted to kiss—or slap—that smirk off of his face.
“Of course you are.”
There was a hint of humor there, wrapped in silky darkness, but I couldn’t tell who it was meant for, if he was mocking me or himself. And honestly, I only thought about it for a second, before the full punch of his voice hit me.
I’d been shopping for a dress for a charity ball a few months ago, and I’d gone to this little boutique in Georgetown and tried on a dozen dresses. I ended up with a conservative, ballet-pink satin gown. But before that, I’d tried on this one dress—red, silk, so low cut in the front and back that it couldn’t be worn with a bra. As soon as I’d slid that dress over my skin, I’d felt like someone else. My nipples had tightened, rubbing against the silky material, every nerve ending alive as the dress caressed my bare flesh, surrounding me in heat.
Professor Canter’s voice reminded me of being bathed in silk. Of temptation and darkness and sex.
Most of the time when he spoke, his tone was ice. But once in a while, when he spoke to me, I noticed the nearly imperceptible shift. And my body responded instantly.
Fuck.
“I guess I got the office wrong,” I mumbled. “I should go; I’m going to be late for the meeting. Sorry I bothered you.” I turned for the door, feeling like I was Persephone attempting to flee the depths of the underworld.
“Wait.”
I froze mid-step, the need to obey authority figures too ingrained for me to consider walking out when the last thing I wanted to do was stay. My heart raced, a nervous energy filling my body. Slowly, I turned back to face him as invisible strings pulled me deeper like Hades and his fucking pomegranate seeds.
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“I’m the pro bono faculty liaison for the first-year class. They just asked me to do it today. Apparently Professor Richardson had to bow out due to a scheduling conflict.” He hesitated and his voice changed again. “I didn’t realize you were the class representative. I guess we’ll be working together from now on.”
And just like that, the underworld swallowed me up with a savage gulp.
Chapter Three
There’s a new man on the D.C. social scene, fresh from the Windy City. What attorney and recent bachelor will be in attendance at tonight’s fundraiser? A newly minted professor, and if the rumors about his looks are true, he can teach us any day . . .
—Capital Confessions blog
Gray
I’d either been really good or really bad to deserve this. I wasn’t sure which one, and right now, I didn’t care.
My announcement had caught her by surprise, and I took the opportunity to study her just as she’d done to me, trying to decipher the enigma that was Blair Reynolds.
She wasn’t sexy. Not conventionally, at least. She was slim, her tits smaller than I normally liked, her hips less curvy, her body less obvious. She wasn’t the type of girl you’d expect to see in a calendar in an auto shop. Everything about her was understated. She was pale, her skin flawless, the only pops of color her cherry-red lips, dark eyebrows and lashes.