The Professor's Heart (Her Perfect Man Contemporary Romance)

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The Professor's Heart (Her Perfect Man Contemporary Romance) Page 1

by Z. L. Arkadie




  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Get Connected

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Excerpt: The Chef’s Passion

  Also By Z.L. Arkadie & T.R. Bertrand

  About the Authors

  The Professor’s Heart

  Her Perfect Man Series

  Z.L. Arkadie

  T.R. Bertrand

  ZL Arkadie Books

  Copyright © 2018 by Z.L. Arkadie & T.R. Bertrand

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN: 978-1-942857-26-6

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to the following:

  Edited by Red Adept Editing

  Cover design by Jacquline Sweet Designs

  Get Connected

  Join the mailing list.

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Get Connected

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Excerpt: The Chef’s Passion

  Also By Z.L. Arkadie & T.R. Bertrand

  About the Authors

  1

  I’m in a stiff jog. The combination of being late and the threat of getting caught in a thunderstorm doesn’t feel good. It’s already sprinkling, so I pick up my pace. Thunder rumbles. Any second, nature’s dark sky is going to unleash her wrath. I opt for the quickest route and cut across the grass. When I reach the large wooden doors of the law building, I look behind me. Sheets of rain strike the ground. I take a deep breath. I made it.

  The squeaking sound of my wet shoes on the shiny marble floor echoes throughout the hallway. I don’t know why I’m trying so hard; I’m dropping this class anyway. Especially now that Elena won’t be there. She was my best friend. She died two weeks ago in a car accident.

  I make it to the classroom, take a deep breath to steady myself, and check my watch. I’m eleven minutes late. I open the door. It squeaks loudly. Everybody looks at me, including Professor Valentine, who makes it a point to glare at me before continuing his lecture. There’s a seat near the back of the room where I usually sit. I make my way up the side of the classroom and try to remain as inconspicuous as possible, although at this point, what difference does it make? I get my laptop out, get situated, and affirm to myself that I’m going to give it my best.

  I look at my watch then back at Professor Valentine. We’re twenty minutes in, and it’s like he’s speaking Greek. I knew missing four classes would make it difficult for me to catch up, but I had no idea coming back would be this bad.

  I turn to my right. Two and a half weeks ago, Elena sat three chairs away from where I’m sitting. I’ve tried to come to class since then, but each time I stood outside the classroom door, she was all I could think about. We had been best friends since second grade. After we graduated high school, we chose our college together, then we picked our law school. Never in a million years would I have guessed she would die before graduation, which is in three months. The guy sitting in Elena’s seat is staring at me. Embarrassed, I look away and take a deep breath. Refocus, Naomi, and try to make sense out of the lecture.

  Fifteen more minutes pass. I’ve shifted in my seat so many times that my butt is sore, and I still can’t make sense out of the lecture. We’re five weeks in. If I drop now, I’ll delay my graduation, and I kind of want to hurry up and get law school over with. It feels as though I’ve been in college forever.

  The sound of the rain beating on the window is distracting me from Professor Valentine’s voice. A chill runs down my spine, and I shiver. I’m sitting in a classroom full of people, and I’ve never felt so alone.

  Professor Valentine says something about how he’s already gone over the complexities of the laws that govern international trade. The only reason I turn to look at him is because he raised his voice. I blink at him. He’s looking right at me. This isn’t the first time I’ve locked eyes with our sexy professor. He’s probably wondering why I even bothered to show up today. He’s right to think that.

  I shift in my seat again. I’m on edge here. Being in this room without Elena makes my skin crawl. I slam my laptop shut and grab my bag. That’s it. I’m dropping this class.

  “I want to give you time to work on your paper, which is due on Monday,” Professor Valentine says as I stand.

  I look toward the front of the room. Our eyes connect again. My heart skips a beat.

  “That’s it for the day. Class adjourned,” he says.

  For a split second, everyone seems shocked, but then they start grabbing their bags to get out of here before he changes his mind. It’s not like the professor to dismiss class early. Unfortunately, now at least twenty people have blocked my path to the exit. I bite my lower lip and start moving at a snail’s pace.

  “Naomi Sutters,” Professor Valentine calls.

  I freeze and look toward the front of the room.

  Professor Valentine is looking down at the papers he’s shuffling. “I need to see you for a few minutes, please.”

  I gnaw harder on my lower lip. Everybody who’s still in the classroom is now focused on me. It sounds as if I’m in trouble. I slowly make my way to the front, and just before I get there, Barbara Lipton steps in front of me.

  “I’ve got a couple of questions about the assignment, Derek,” she says while flipping her fingers through her golden-blond hair.

  I sigh as I roll my eyes. Barbara is the overdressed chick who always sits in the front row and chronically has her crotch on display. She and four other girls have been trying to seduce Professor Valentine since the first day of class. He’s undeniably the sexiest professor on campus.

  Today he’s wearing a cream cable-knit turtleneck sweater that sets off his black-rimmed glasses. His gray herringbone slacks are wrapped perfectly around his stellar thighs. Not a strand of his windblown hair is out of place. His eyes are brown and intense. He looks like Patrick Dempsey, the lead actor on one of my favorite shows. So that’s probably why all the girls want Professor Valentine, and the
fact that he’s a widower apparently makes him more desirable.

  Professor Valentine lifts a hand to stop Barbara. “If you have any additional questions, you’ll need to make an appointment with me during office hours or send me an email.” He gives her a tight-lipped smile.

  “Jeez, Derek, can I make an appointment now?” Her tone is more annoyed than cutesy.

  “No, you’re going to have to send an email.” He raises his hand and waves me over with his fingers. “Over here, Miss Sutters.”

  Barbara looks confused. The way she called him Derek went way beyond the normal teacher–student relationship. Maybe they’re screwing each other. I wouldn’t put it past either of them. I just want to get out of here, so I walk around in front of her to face the music.

  I swallow nervously. “Yes.”

  He glances at me. “I noticed you’ve been out for a while.”

  “I know. It’s just…” I look down at the desk.

  A moment goes by, and he doesn’t say anything.

  I look back up. He’s watching me as if he’s still waiting for me to finish. “I decided to drop the class.”

  He stops fiddling with his papers. “Is that so?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  Professor Valentine looks around the classroom. “Does this have anything to do with Elena?” His voice is low.

  That question triggers something inside me. I look away from his eyes. The last student has left the room. I turn to face him again. I feel it’s now safe to say, “Maybe.”

  He nods and sighs. “How did you follow the lecture today?”

  I fight the urge to hang my head in shame. “I didn’t.”

  He smiles sympathetically. “I thought so.”

  “I think I should just drop the class.”

  Valentine rubs his chin. “Isn’t this your final semester?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “But you find it difficult to be here. Am I right?”

  After a moment, I close my eyes. Never let them see you cry; that’s what my dad says. However, I never thought I would come to class today and have this kind of conversation. I shrug.

  “Do you think if you had some help catching up, it might make a difference?”

  “I don’t know.” I study the front of the wooden podium. My decision to drop has nothing to do with the classwork. I don’t care about graduating or fulfilling my father’s plans for me—not anymore. All I want right now is to get out of here.

  He’s silent, so I look into his eyes. Under different circumstances, the look he’s giving me would be sort of hypnotizing.

  “You know what I’m willing to do for you?” he says, as if he’s about to make a deal.

  I frown timidly. “No…”

  “Help you catch up.”

  “Why?” I say before I can take it back.

  He crosses his arms. “You’re a bright student, Naomi. And I understand what you’re going through.” He unfolds his arms to run a hand through his gorgeous hair and clear his throat.

  I’ve heard that he lost his wife in a car accident. He never talks about it, but now that he has, it’s hard for him to hide the sadness in his eyes. Suddenly, I realize we might be kindred spirits in our grief. But regardless, the thought of moving on makes me feel as if I’ve collided with a steel wall.

  “Listen”—he gathers his stack of papers and shoves them into his briefcase—“you don’t have to answer me now. Think about it, and get back to me by Monday.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  It takes a moment before I realize we’re staring into each other’s eyes again. I think he feels safe looking at me this way. Unlike the other girls in class—heck, on campus—I don’t salivate over Professor Derek Valentine. I understand he’s way out of my league.

  I drop my face though, because staring at his intense gaze for too long makes me nervous. “Can I go now?”

  “Of course.”

  My feet are heavy as I turn and walk toward the door. I feel as if we have more to say to each other.

  “I’ll be waiting to hear from you,” he says as if he’s reading my thoughts.

  I stop and look at him. “Who did you have in mind for helping me out?”

  “Me.”

  I feel my eyes expand. “Oh. Okay.”

  I try to play it cool, but the thought of being alone with him for a prolonged period of time doesn’t make me feel better—it makes me doubly anxious.

  I continue to try to play it cool. “Sure, I’ll think about it.” But in reality, my head is spinning. I nervously wave good-bye one more time before I turn and walk out.

  2

  I’m paying attention to the road, but at the same time, my mind is wandering. I’ve never crushed on Professor Valentine but not for a lack of attraction. I’ve got serious self-control when it comes to most things. When it comes to men, I simply tell myself the truth, which is that he’s just not that into me, and I let the truth set me free of wasteful crushes and relationships that will prove to be a headache in the end. Out of Elena and me, I was the sensible one. Sense is my superpower, the one she relied upon.

  The light turns yellow.

  “Damn it!” I slam my foot on the brake.

  My front wheels are hanging over the line. I can’t pull back because there’s a car behind me, which forces pedestrians to walk around the front of my car in the crosswalk. I’m too embarrassed to meet their glares, so I stare at the red light.

  My mind takes me back to the night Elena died. We went to a party for third-year law students. It was our last blowout before focusing on the remainder of the semester, and everyone was celebrating by drinking way too much. I don’t drink, which made me the only sober person in the house.

  The light turns green. It’s such a relief to drive out of the crosswalk that I force myself to stop thinking about Elena. That’s easy to do since my destination is a block away.

  I turn into the parking lot of Calypso, a café on the corner of Lyndale and Twenty-second. I roll through the parking lot slowly. The rain starts again, and it’s coming down hard. So far there are no empty spots, but there are only ten stalls. I would hate to have to park on one of the back streets. The idea of walking in the rain doesn’t appeal to me any more now than it did earlier in the day. If there are no parking spots, then I’ll simply drive home and take a nap before heading out to my father’s house for dinner tonight.

  I look for the classic yellow Porsche. I see it. Gina’s here. I intend to get caught up with her during her fifteen-minute break. Elena and I used to stop by every Wednesday and Friday after Professor Valentine’s class to chat with her. This is the first time I’ve come without Elena, and her absence hits me hard. I would turn and leave, but I haven’t seen Gina, who has been either working or studying for the bar, since Elena’s funeral. The three of us were close. I get to the end of the parking lot and strike gold. There’s one space available. I pull my red Buick into it.

  Since Calypso Café is pretty far from campus, not many students hang out here, so finding a place to sit is easy. Today there’re far fewer patrons than usual. It might have something to do with the weather. The rain has started to pick up too.

  The bells on the door ring when I walk in. The sound catches Gina’s attention.

  “Well, look who the cat dragged in,” she says from behind the counter, grinning.

  “Hi!” I sing. My heart feels genuinely warmed by the sight of her face.

  Her boss, Randy, narrows his eyes at me as if it’s my fault he’s pissed at Gina. “Your break is fifteen minutes—not sixteen,” he says, shaking his finger at her.

  She rolls her eyes dismissively. “Have a seat, Nom. I’ll be there in a sec.”

  Gina is the only person who calls me Nom. I give her a thumbs-up and walk down the aisle to find a table. I pass the booth Elena and I used to like to sit in and opt for the booth near the far left corner of the café, close to the street entrance. We used to hate sitting on this side of the room because it’s so distractin
g with everyone coming in and out of the rear door, but I don’t have to worry today since most people decided to stay home and out of the thunderstorm.

  Gina wears the same welcoming smile as she struts toward my table while tapping her watch. “So how long has it been since I’ve seen you? A decade?”

  I snort facetiously. “More like two weeks.”

  She stands over me. “You could’ve answered my calls and texts.”

  I turn down the corners of my mouth. “I know—sorry. I was just in such a bad way that I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not even the people I love who are still breathing and walking the earth.”

  After a moment, she sighs and slides into the seat across from me. “You look miserable.”

  I spread my hands over my face. “I’m going to drop my classes,” I say in a rush.

  I peep at Gina through the spaces between my fingers to gauge her reaction.

  Her back is against the seat as if she’s been blown away by what I said. “Wow, well…” She sighs. “That’s pretty gangster of you. Have you broken the news to Dick Sutters?” She’s referring to my father.

  I shake my leg nervously and gnaw on my bottom lip as I stare at the wood pattern of the table. “No.”

  “He’s going to blow a major gasket, being that he’s been footing the bills for your law school experience.”

  “I know,” I groan.

  She’s quiet, so I look up.

  Gina is watching me with narrowed eyes. “Why are you quitting anyway?”

 

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