“But it’s possible, isn’t it? That there’s a woman in Annie’s life she’s able to study. Someone who maintains perfect professional control but secretly craves something entirely different.”
My mouth goes dry.
This conversation is heading into dangerous territory, and I’m...I’m not going to let him do that.
Take control, Jayne!
“Mr. Steele, I understand your concern for your sister, but I’m not sure what you want me to do with this information.” I close the thesis and push it back across the desk, relieved when my hand doesn’t visibly shake. “Annie’s academic work for my class has been entirely appropriate.”
“And yet she’s clearly spending considerable time exploring these...psychological dynamics.” He doesn’t touch the papers,just watches me with that unsettling intensity. “I’m concerned about where she’s getting her information.”
“What exactly are you implying, Mr. Steele?”
“I’m not implying anything, darling. I’m stating quite directly that I want to know who’s been teaching my nineteen-year-old sister about motorcycle clubs and sexual submission.”
Darling.
The word slides over me like warm honey, inappropriate and somehow exactly right in his deep voice. And it immediately activates Rule #1: Never trust a man who calls you “darling” when you’ve just met.
For good reason, apparently, since the man who just used that endearment is accusing me of...of what, exactly?
“I assure you, it hasn’t been me.” I straighten my spine, finding refuge in professional indignation. “And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t use terms of endearment when addressing me. It’s Dr. Stuart, not ‘darling.’”
“My apologies, Dr. Stuart.” He doesn’t sound remotely apologetic. If anything, the formal title sounds more intimate in his mouth than the endearment did. “Let me be more specific. My sister has been researching material of a mature nature. Some of it relates directly to topics covered in your class. Some of it appears to be personal research.”
“And you think I’m encouraging this?”
“I think she might be observing and drawing conclusions.” His eyes haven’t left mine, and the direct assessment in them makesme feel uncomfortably exposed. “She mentions certain reading materials in her notes. Books that explore these...dynamics.”
Is he...is he implying what I think he’s implying?
“I don’t know what books—”
“Books like the one you were reading when my arrival interrupted you.” His smile is subtle but devastating. “The one you hid in your desk drawer.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. “You couldn’t possibly know what I was reading.”
“Couldn’t I?” He leans forward slightly, and the movement shouldn’t be threatening but somehow it makes my pulse race. “I recognize guilt when I see it, Dr. Stuart.”
“You’re mistaken—”
“Am I?”
Before I can process what’s happening, he’s reaching across my desk, pulling open the drawer where I hastily stashed my Kindle.
“Mr. Steele!” I protest, too late, as he extracts the device.
“Let’s see what Dr. Stuart finds academically stimulating, shall we?” He taps the screen, and to my horror, it illuminates immediately. I forgot to lock it in my panic when Kassie announced him.
“Give that back.” I reach for it, but he simply holds it just out of reach, his height and longer arms giving him an unfair advantage.
“Claimed by the President,”he reads, one eyebrow rising. “By Eina L. Haze. Interesting choice of academic material, Dr. Stuart.”
Because that’s exactly what my life needed: more humiliation, right here, right now, in the hands of one Patrizio Steele.
“Listen to this,” he says, and I want to crawl under my desk and hide forever.
“She gasped as his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. She was his, completely and utterly, and they both knew it.”