Her Billionaire Professor

by Sophia Summers

  “Early riser?” he asked. Her face was flushed. He recognized the anticipation for a wonderful day in her eyes.

  “I am. Always. No matter how late I stay up, if the day brings exciting things, I am usually up to greet it.”

  He held the door open for her. “Let’s go unlock the classroom, shall we? And we can have a meeting about how the day is going to go.”

  They took the elevator. He breathed in her fresh smell, maybe honeysuckle. The hotel’s soap. The doors opened up onto their floor, which was divided into classrooms.

  While he set up his A/V equipment, she wandered over to the windows. “What a view.”

  The window looked out over a crowded street of colorful buildings, the pastels smiling up in cheerful confusion against the backdrop of bright blue water. A marina was visible further down, and he’d noticed his own yacht, The Angelique, docked there. Now that he was here, he would have to thank Mark for mentioning it. He longed to get out on the water.

  Shawna standing in front of such a view was doing things to his insides. Happy things, but he wasn’t sure how appropriate his thoughts were. Even though they were simple thoughts like Shawna draped across the front of his yacht as it cut across the blue water. She had a book open in her lap, and they were engaged in playful banter about the early Italian civilizations.

  He chuckled.

  She turned, her eyebrows raised.

  His throat cleared almost of its own accord. “So, you ready for this?”

  “More than anything. I can’t wait to dig in to our lesson for today.”

  He moved to stand beside her. “You’re such a rarity. I appreciate that.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I think I’ll have you teaching TA sessions. For those who want a little bit extra, you can stay after and go over questions or review notes or anything they missed. I’ll make my lectures available to you.”

  Her eyes widened. “This is fantastic!” Then she cleared her throat. “I mean, of course. No big deal.” She laughed. “I can’t dim my enthusiasm. It’s all awesome. If that makes me seem juvenile or young like everyone else, so be it.” Her chin rose defiantly.

  “No one said anything about dimming your enthusiasm. Your energy for my passions is what most draws me to you.” He almost choked on his last words.

  The red that spread quickly across her cheeks and down her neck told him he’d been too bold. But bold in a good way? He searched her face. There was a hint of pleasure hiding in the embarrassment. Triumphant, he logged that away for later, much later. Then he moved on to business.

  They made sure the desks were lined up and that she was ready to answer questions if need be.

  When the students began arriving, Shawna was seated at her desk in the front, as any overeager student would, and he welcomed the rest in as any professor. He turned on his board that mirrored his laptop, and began his lesson. Never had he felt more alive. With Shawna’s large eyes drinking in every word he said, he wondered what she thought, what she could add to the discussion. With the backdrop of Naples itself out behind him, he felt the world at his feet, and he waxed more eloquent than usual. Halfway through, Margie joined them.

  Shawna raised her hand. “I think we will see examples of everything you just said when we head up to Rome this next week.”

  Excited murmurs rumbled through the class.

  “We will indeed. Does everyone know our TA? Shawna Worthington will be working closely with me and Margie, our department head, and with each of you. Be good to her. Every weekly assignment goes through her before it reaches me.” He laughed.

  Shawna shook her head and waved. “I’m happy to help in any way.”

  He turned off his monitor. “Why don’t you take a twenty-minute break. When you come back, we’ll finish up and talk about your assignments…and our travel plans to Rome.”

  Everyone stood and stretched. Shawna looked like she might wander back to talk to the others, so he called to her. “Would you like to get some lunch?”

  Her mouth dropped open, a pinch of discomfort crossing her face.

  “With me and Margie?”

  “Oh, yes. Of course, I’d love to.”

  He wanted to ask what she thought about his first lecture. Searching her face, he couldn’t tell. He’d never wanted approval so badly from another human. When he couldn’t wait any longer, he said, “So?”

  “So?”

  “How was it? What did you think?”

  Obviously surprised at his question, she floundered for a minute. “Oh, well, it was awesome.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m still processing some of it. Do you really think the Jews were in hiding for so many years, pretending to be Christians, or even becoming agnostic, with nowhere to worship?”

  “Possibly. It’s a theory.”

  “And your delivery. It’s amazing. Did you see everyone’s faces? You bring all these topics to light in such a fascinating way. I could listen to you for hours.” She sucked in a breath. “I mean. Well. I guess that’s what I mean.” She shook her head and moved to walk away from him.

  “Wait, wait. Stay. Thank you. I know what you mean. I remember a professor I had when I was completing my undergrad. I’m sure he was a good presenter, but the material was so fascinating to me, I would have sat there for hours anyway. I think it says a lot about your interests and your intelligence. And I’m honored you would think I’m worth listening to.” He stepped closer, wanting to help her understand, to erase her sudden embarrassment. “Your good opinion is valued.”

  They stood closer, not enough for him to reach for her hand like he wanted to, not close enough to brush the one errant hair back behind her shoulder, but enough that the air between them felt charged. He slipped off his jacket, the room suddenly warm. With a soft wink, he stepped away and called the class back to order.

  He glanced at Margie, and her amused expression gave him pause. Oh boy. He’d have to ask her about whatever she found so funny, at lunch.

  He worked hard for the next hour and then dismissed them all with their afternoon assignments and schedule for tomorrow.

  Shawna waited for him while Margie approached. “That was beautiful. I’ve never seen you so passionate.” Her eyes moved from Shawna to Dex. A tiny warning flickered there, which he understood. He turned to Shawna, “I think Margie and I are going to have a staff meeting over lunch, so we’ll have to catch up later.”

  Shawna’s face fell. She tried to hide the awkward discomfort, but Dex’s heart went out to her. Not sure how to mend things, he just watched helplessly.

  Margie reached her hand out. “No, Dexter, she should be there. I didn’t mean our conversation couldn’t include her. I just meant we need to talk, to plan Rome.”

  Shawna brightened immediately. “Oh, I’d love to talk about Rome. All the students are buzzing with excitement. Last night, it was all anyone could talk about.” She looked out the window. “Though with views like these, it will make it difficult to leave, even for a week.” She turned back. “I’m happy to meet for lunch if you need me, otherwise, I don’t want to be in the way.” She looked at her feet. “I’m not sure my place yet, as the TA.”

  Margie wrapped an arm around her shoulder like Dex had wanted to. “Don’t you worry. You’re doing great. I already told you you’re my graduate student candidate. You can do no wrong, my dear.” Her eyes lifted in warning again to Dexter. He hadn’t meant to do anything. Hadn’t done anything. Though he’d thought of plenty of pleasant things he could do.

  They left the building, and Margie led them to one of Dex’s favorite lunch spots, where he tried to have purely platonic thoughts about a platonic week-long visit to Rome with a beautiful and fascinating woman at his side.

  He was glad no one could read his mind and view the epic failure that ensued in his thoughts while watching Shawna laugh together with one of his oldest friends.

  Chapter 8

  The days leading up to their departure to Rome had moved s
lowly, and Shawna was grateful. She drank in everything about their studies, took notes, and then reviewed the lectures again at night. He was brilliant. Some of his conclusions were revolutionary, genius, and showed such a deep understanding of human nature and a caring which she found enlightening and refreshing.

  As his voice cascaded over her in the recorded lectures, she smiled, warmth tingling through her. She knew she was pathetically falling for her professor, but what could she do? She saw the man every day.

  Their flight left in a few hours. They had special access tours of the Vatican and St. Peter’s Basilica scheduled, as well as several other cathedrals. They would see the Pantheon and every Roman ruin. She knew there was so much more to see in Rome, but she was happy for what they could see and for the in-depth look at everything.

  Brandon helped her load their bags onto the bus.

  She filled her lungs with satisfaction. “I’m looking forward to La Pietà.”

  He nodded. She knew he was Catholic, so this trip had special meaning to him beyond just the historical implications. “I’ve heard seeing it in person is different than any effort that has been made to try and capture its beauty. The experience is never forgotten.”

  After they landed in Rome and were situated in their new hotel, Mr. Adams met them down in the lobby and introduced their tour guide. “This is Bruno. He’s from Portugal but has lived in Italy for most of his life. He will be with us for the next ten days, so give him your respect and your full attention.”

  Bruno explained the earphones and the devices that they would keep with them at all times. He would use them to explain interesting facts during their tour, and Mr. Adams would get on and tell them added details they needed to know for their class.

  Everyone put in the earphones, and Bruno’s voice sounded clearly. “We will be going to the Colosseum first. Because of your professor’s status as a docent here in Italy, we will also have access to the lower portions not often viewed by tourists. Please use respect. Touch as little as possible.”

  Her heart leapt inside. She was really here, really doing this. The lower levels had been closed for many years.

  They entered in through the front, and the first thing she noticed was its complete immensity. Shaped much like a modern football stadium, this epic structure had been built almost two thousand years ago. They circled the top, walking below some seating and above others. Bruno explained the structure and what it was used for.

  Then they were taken below. Many of the sections that held animals all those years ago no longer had ceilings. She felt like she was stepping back in time, walking single file with the other students over stone older than any country, older than any book she’d ever held in her hands besides the Bible. She let everyone go ahead of her, wanting time to think, to process. The ancient structure was sending her mind all over the place. There were so many stories here. Many of them tragic.

  Then Mr. Adams’ voice spoke through her earphones. “When I think about all that happened here two thousand years ago, and all that’s happened outside this structure during those same years, well, I wish this stone could speak.”

  She ran her hand along the walls at her side. “What would you say?” she murmured, facing the stone.

  Mr. Adams approached from behind. “What would they say?”

  She whipped around, and his smile made her laugh.

  “Your assignment for this visit is to write a one-page reaction from the stone’s perspective. This sounds whimsical, but I would like you to be as accurate as you can.”

  He stepped up beside her. “Turn it in to Shawna by Friday.” Then he jerked his head to the side and indicated she follow him.

  He jogged through the maze of ancient pathways and halls, and ducked through shorter doorways and entries. “I want to show you something.”

  She gasped. His voice had sounded through her earphones. She reached for him, tugging on his arm. Then she mimed the problem. His eyes widened. “So take a look around, stick close to Bruno, and I’ll take another moment after his tour.”

  He took off his microphone, switching it off. “That was potentially embarrassing.”

  She laughed.

  “But we aren’t there yet.” He picked up his pace again and led her back, deeper, darker, into the lower levels. And then he stopped, holding his hand out to steady her when she ran into his muscular, solid back that she stepped away from only reluctantly.

  “Here we are.” He pulled something out of his pocket and pulled on a headlamp, carefully beaming the light away from her eyes. “See this?” He knelt down.

  “A trap door?”

  “Very good. I knew you were my TA for a reason.” His eyes held mischief. “Want to see where it goes?”

  “What?” Of course she did. “Should we?”

  “In cases such as these, I say the answer is always yes. Should you learn more about history? Make the most of a unique opportunity to be down here at all? And you should know”—he held up a badge—“I have permission.”

  Relief cleared away any reservations she’d had. “Then, yes! What are we waiting for?”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” He lifted the door carefully, dirt and dust falling all around. “You should know this is a replica of the original that used to be here.”

  She nodded, breathless with the sense of mystery and discovery.

  He dropped his feet down and began his descent on what looked like stone stairs.

  She followed. When they reached the bottom, his light shone everywhere, searching corners and crevices. “Another exit.” They rounded the corner, went about twenty steps, and then their path had caved in.

  “Oh, too bad.” Shawna rested her hand on the rock and rubble in front of them. “So ancient.”

  “And raw. So few have been down here.” He moved his light to shine on each rock. “We are so often of one mind.” He ran his hand along the wall at their side. “What would you say?” He turned to her, careful to keep the light out of her face. “Do you know how many times I’ve done that very thing?”

  “And has the stone ever responded?”

  He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no.” He walked along the wall, looking up and down in the stone.

  “Wait.”

  He paused.

  “Right there.”

  He adjusted his beam of light, and they moved closer. It looked like markings, something scratched into the surface. He took out his phone and snapped an image.

  She ran a finger along the grooves. “These are more recent.”

  His light beamed closer. “I think you’re correct. Maybe some later century graffiti?”

  “Still interesting.”

  “Very true. I love that about you.” He stopped. “I mean, I very much appreciate that quality in you.” He smacked his own forehead. “Or, whatever.” His helpless expression was endearing. Then he shrugged and searched her face. “I’ll just stop that whole line of thought and say I’m glad you’re here.”

  A delicious rumble of attraction flipped around in her belly. “Me too.” Had she moved closer? They were standing much closer than she’d thought. He adjusted his headlamp so that it sat higher on his head, shining a light on the ceiling. His eyes were wide, vulnerable. She saw hints of what he might say, what he maybe wanted to say, or was it all her imagination? She cleared her throat. “So what is this room supposed to be?”

  He let their quiet moment continue a moment longer. His body swayed closer before he switched back into professor mode. “They aren’t sure about these rooms. But let me tell you about where they are situated. I’d like your best conjectures as to their use in my inbox tonight.”

  “What? In addition to the other assignment and grading all the other students’ work?”

  “Yes, of course. Will that be a problem?” His tone didn’t sound sharp—it was more demanding than harsh—but she didn’t appreciate it. Luckily before she voiced the snarky response on her lips, she reminded herself of her relationship with him.
Student. Professor. He was off-limits, and she shouldn’t be so personal.

  “No problem at all.” Whatever he dished out she could take. She’d prove how well she could focus, how good of a student she was and how little he affected her. She wanted to dive in with a vengeance.

  He must have turned on his microphone. His voice sounded through her earpiece again. “Please gather by the west entrance. We will talk about infrastructure and then move on to the ruins nearby.” He nodded that she should climb back up the stairs to the trap door.

  The magic was doused so quickly and completely that Shawna doubted it ever existed in the first place. And that was just as well. What was she thinking, nursing hope that he felt the same, that they could work something out. Like, what would they do? Sneak off and make out in between classes?

  She blushed thinking about it, grateful he was behind her on the stairs. The trap door was still closed. Just as she was about to open it, footsteps pounded over the top of it.

  “Wait.” Dr. Adam’s warning was not necessary, so she rolled her eyes into the darkness. She was still such a teenager, even in her twenties. Pathetic.

  They listened for more footfalls. He had moved up the stairs, closer to her, and she felt his body heat wafting off of him, igniting all kinds of nerve endings in her.

  “Where did they go?” His whispered question sounded nearer than she’d thought he was.

  She twisted so that she was facing him. He stood three steps down, but in the narrow, steep manner in which these stairs were situated, this brought him very close to her. “What do we do?” Suddenly the very thought of being caught alone with him in a dark hole in the ground made her realize the incredibly precarious situation they were in. Just as her heart was sinking, thinking of Dr. Adams getting in all sorts of trouble, he began to chuckle. “This is classic. Do you think we’ll climb out and the whole class will be there watching for us?”

  She shook her head so quickly that he placed a hand on her arm. “Do not be concerned. This is all perfectly acceptable. Margie trusts me. We’ve been old friends for many years.” He tilted his head. “And I do apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable. I feel that up to this point, we’ve had a lovely professional relationship.”