She nodded.
“Do you agree?”
“Oh yes, very professional.” Did her hint of resentment sound as obvious to him as it felt to her? She was determined to prove her incredible student status and live up to his expectations. “I’m your research assistant, your TA. I have never thought otherwise and felt completely comfortable with our friendship as fellow history aficionados.”
A small flash of something, maybe disappointment, crossed his face. But she tamped down any hope that he had interest in her. “So I should just open the door?”
He placed a hand on her arm. “Perhaps wait a moment more?”
“Okay.” An awkward, thick silence settled on them in that small space, and she missed their easy camaraderie. “I’m going to surprise you with what I discover about these rooms.”
“Are you now?” His pleased chuckle made her smile.
“Yes, I am.”
“I look forward to hearing your findings and your theories.”
After a moment more, she lifted the trap door and peeked around at the very dark space. “No one is here, unless they’re sitting in the pitch black waiting to knife us.”
“What!”
“Sorry, I love to read suspense.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“What, something I love that you don’t?”
“I might love it. I just haven’t ever given it a try.”
“Romantic suspense.”
“Hmmm.”
“And I also love gardening.”
“Another hobby I have yet to explore.”
She wanted to triumphantly fist bump the blackness. Take that, universe. Dr. Adams and she were not perfectly suited for each other.
They made their way back somewhat slower than they had come, and she slipped into the bathroom while he went to go find the students at the west gate.
Wow. She looked in the mirror. She wasn’t sure what to make of their meeting down in the lower levels of the Colosseum, but she vowed to prove that they weren’t developing any kind of relationship besides the one that was strictly allowed between professor and student. No matter how much she already craved the closeness she felt with him, no matter how much she wished their situation were different.
Chapter 9
“Where were you?” Margie’s eyes narrowed.
“Checking out something I’ve always been curious about.”
“Which is?”
“I’ll let you read Shawna’s report on our findings.”
Margie’s eyes widened and she searched her face, but, true to their friendship, she said nothing.
The bus ride back was quiet. Everyone was tired, exhausted, including Dex. “Do you and Mark want to go out tonight? Check out some of the Rome nightlife?”
Her expression told him immediately what she was thinking.
“Say no more. You don’t need a third wheel for whatever you have planned for tonight.”
She laughed. “You are more than welcome to come along.”
He shook his head. “No, I’ll give Mark some time with his wife before he starts getting jealous.”
Dex waved goodbye to Margie and said good night to the students. Then he made his way back through the hotel lobby. Perhaps he could get some reading done, work more on his research. But as he made his way up the elevator, he was filled with a restless energy he knew he wouldn’t be able to shake.
And he knew the cause. Shawna had ignited something unquenchable in him. What he really wanted was to take her out, to watch her charming blush and stare at her freckles, her dimple, to make her laugh or ask her interesting questions just to hear her reaction.
What he needed was a good night out, having fun and enjoying the single life in Rome. Which was something he hadn’t wanted to explore in over three years. He considered reaching out to his set. They were always travelling somewhere. Rome was on their circuit, and more often than not, he could find someone who was friends with his family, or who he’d gone to school with.
He didn’t relish those relationships, but he needed a wakeup call. As wonderful as Shawna seemed, maybe he was simply reacting to his loneliness, to the fact he’d refused to date for years.
He had good reason to avoid the scene, he reminded himself. What if she was here somewhere? That would be simple enough to discover.
His cringe shook him deep, but he typed her name in the search bar anyway. Shayla Anderson.
A stream of mostly tabloid articles filled his phone’s screen. The most recent had her in Greece. Close. There was a chance she’d end up here. But he was probably safe to reach out a little bit.
The elevator opened up on his floor. Once in his room, he went out on his balcony. It overlooked nothing exceptional. Student housing only promised to be relatively safe and clean. But he found the alleyways, with laundry strung across he windows, charming. Most often, the women planted flowers in the window boxes. Sometimes he had heard them singing. Sometimes in Italian, sometimes older American pop songs in English with their beautiful Italian accents. The different colors everywhere always made him smile. Italy was a beautiful country. How could they have such a culture that embraced beauty? The well put-together outfit, the quality presentation. Everything was pleasing to the eye.
As he looked out over the rooftops, a door in the room next to his opened, and someone exited out onto their balcony. He knew the minute he smelled honeysuckle who it was.
She placed her hand on the rails. He could just see her fingers from where he stood. Small, delicate, relaxed. A small sigh exited her lips. And he wondered what she was doing that evening. Had she made plans with Brandon and Peter? Or any of the other students? Or was she hard at work on his assignments?
Her humming reached him. A soft tune he didn’t recognize. He closed his eyes, caught up in thoughts of her. Smart, clever, interesting. Standing near her in the dark, he hadn’t thought much about their closeness, their aloneness, the incredible availability of her beautiful mouth, until she was standing in front of him. And then he’d been so shocked by a wave of attraction that all he could do was stand completely still, afraid if he moved, he’d act on his sudden desire to reach out to tuck her hair back. Something so simple, and to watch her expression while he did so, was completely forbidden at the moment. And then the inappropriateness of being found alone with her had washed over him in a wave.
Well, no matter. He’d be more careful. And they’d worked out an understanding of sorts, as much as they could. He thought so anyway. Women were so difficult to read. He shook his head. Except her. She read like a book. Watching the interest she tried to hide was a sweet torture whenever they were together.
He opened his eyes. Her hands were still there. She tapped her fingers, beating a rhythm to the song she hummed. Standing so close, silently sharing her same space, was a torture all its own. He didn’t dare move and reveal his presence.
He’d have to give her some more grunt work. Anything that would firmly put her in the student status in his mind. She could handle it, and he could honestly use the help with filing, compiling, analyzing, data entry even. He winced. It was sort of a waste of her intuitive understanding of the history, but those kinds of assignments would help him see her more as a student than an equal.
His phone rang, and he cursed his ringer.
She gasped. She knew his ringtone, a Mozart aria.
He panicked and left the phone on the table, slipping back into his hotel room. He caught sight of her head, peeking around to his balcony from hers. So he grabbed the sliding glass door as if just opening it and stepped out to grab his phone.
She hid again so fast that he had to smile. They were ridiculous. “Shawna. You out here?”
She peeked back around. “Guilty. But I promise I wasn’t…I didn’t…”
He held up his hands. “No, don’t worry about it.” He held up the phone and then answered. “Hello.”
“Dex, it’s Cassie.”
“Oh, hey.” He waved at Shawna and went i
nside his room. “I’m glad you called. Do you know if anyone’s in Rome right now?”
“Oh, honey, we all are.”
“What? What’s going on?”
“They’re gonna head down for the yacht races later this week.”
He groaned. He’d forgotten. They had an informal yacht race between them every year. It would start off the Amalfi coast. “What’s everyone doing tonight?”
“You gonna come out of hiding? We’d love to see you. Shayla especially.”
“She’s there?”
“Tell me how you really feel.”
“Well, how do you feel about your exes?”
“Depends, I guess. She’s coming in tomorrow. But tonight we’re all meeting at a local dance club. You in?”
“Sure. I could use some time away.”
“You still teaching?”
“Yes. Here on a study abroad.”
“That’s funny. Dexter Adams surrounded by a bunch of love-sick teenagers.”
“They’re not quite teenagers, college at least.”
“Same thing at this point. They look like babies.”
“I’ll meet you guys there.”
“Thanks, hon. Save a dance or two for me. It’s been awhile.”
“You’re on.”
Cassie was fun. Harmless. And that’s just what he needed tonight. He could not imagine living their lives, though, these friends he’d grown up with. Were they still hopping from one location to another, enjoying recreation only? Did any of them study? He couldn’t remember if any had advanced degrees, or if they even held places on the boards of companies. He couldn’t imagine such a life, not when so many things in the world fascinated him. But they had their place, and tonight he needed them.
When he hung up, he moved closer to the window to see if Shawna was still out there. No hands at the railing. What were the chances their rooms would be next to each other? Probably pretty high, he admitted. He’d requested she and Margie and himself be close, and in rooms with balconies. It seemed only fair she got some of the faculty treatment as the TA.
He exhaled long and slow. And then he searched his luggage for a collared shirt and his fancy sportscoat. He checked his face and decided to leave a bit of scruff, and he spritzed on some cologne and mussed his hair. As he studied himself in the mirror, he nodded. He looked like a local out for a night on the town.
He stepped out into the hallway just as Shawna closed her door behind her.
“Oh.” She eyed him from head to toe. He felt her gaze crawl up him in a wave of warmth. And then she swallowed.
Oh boy. She needed to stop.
“You’re…you look…” She cleared her throat. “Sorry.”
She was in a strappy dress and heels, with her hair piled on top of her head. And she looked every bit of her beautiful twenty-six years. Not juvenile. Not a student.
“You’re not very professory right now.” She stepped closer and then stopped.
“No, I’m going out.” He indicated the direction he was going. “Heading to the elevator?”
“Yes.”
They walked together in silence, the space between them simmering with magnetism. He’d never felt such a draw. Not with her looking like he could have met her at a club or at one of his parents’ socials.
The doors opened out into the lobby. Shawna ran out to meet Brandon and the others with a quick, “See you tomorrow” over her shoulder.
He bit his tongue, cutting off a reminder about her assignments that were due in the morning, and he watched her leave, full of energy, with a group of students.
Suddenly, his plans for the evening felt flat and uninspiring.
Chapter 10
Shawna pretended she was going to have the time of her life. She laughed and linked arms with Brandon on their way out of the hotel. She refused to look back to see if Dr. Adams was watching, though she knew he was. She could feel his gaze.
“What’s up with our hottie professor?”
Shawna gulped. “Pardon?”
Tiff laughed. “Didn’t you notice? He’s all dressed up to go out. Do you think he knows someone here?”
Shawna shrugged, wondering for the first time if he was going out on a date. “I don’t know. He did look like he was going out, didn’t he?”
“Girl, you are so blind. None of us know how you can work with him so closely and not be madly in love with the guy.”
She ordered her cheeks to cool. “He’s my boss. I don’t know what else I would do.”
Tiff shrugged. “I can think of a few things.”
Shawna had thought of all the possibilities for her and Dexter. Thought about them all the time. And the whole subject was starting to drive her crazy.
When she’d stepped out onto the balcony, her thoughts had been full of Dexter. She’d felt so close to him, had almost smelled his cologne on the air. When his phone rang, she’d thought it was her imagination. Then he’d gone in to take the call; it was probably his date for the night. Thinking of him in the arms of another woman, someone who wasn’t a student, someone more his age, filled her with a rush of distress. She laughed loud and long and insisted her little group have fun. “Let’s go to a club.”
Tiff snorted. “Who is this new Shawna?”
“Not new, you just haven’t seen her yet. I’ve been around a little longer than you have. I’ve seen my fair share of clubs.” She winked. “But no clubs in Rome.”
“Now you’re talking.”
Peter, who had been quiet up until now, said, “I’m in.”
“Perfect.”
Brandon led them down a different street. There was a club within walking distance.
The place shook with music, the bass beat making Shawna smile. It was time to have fun. Time to work out every bit of her attraction to Dr. Adams. Time to wipe the very thought of him from her mind.
The lights were low. They walked through a bar to get out on the dance floor. Most of them stopped to get drinks, but she decided to hold off. In her reckless state it might be good to keep her senses about her, and besides, she had hours of research to complete tonight. She suspected if she spent a bit more time on it she could blow him away with her findings. And she wanted to totally blow him away.
Her determined defiance made her smile. But it was the only way she knew to handle all the intense emotions that flowed through her. That and dancing fast and hard. She smirked. She had totally noticed the Italian men everywhere she looked. They had a beautiful shade of green in their eyes. A lot like Dr. Adams’. She tried to stop thinking of him, but the thoughts intruded from almost every direction. Well, he was forbidden, for now at least, and maybe he wasn’t even interested.
She ran out onto the floor, and the others followed.
“Wow, Shawna! Go you!”
She laughed, bouncing, turning, and waving her arms in the air. “Woooooo!”
They joined her, and soon the floor was crowded with mostly locals and a few more students from their group. The music slowed down just when she started to think she might need a break. Before she could move to sit, a man approached. An Italian. He looked to be a bit older, his dress shirt unbuttoned one extra button. He wore white pants, his hair was beautiful, and his lightly tanned skin was even more beautiful.
“Would you like to dance with me?” His accent made her want to swoon. She’d never thought such a thing was possible, swooning. She could only imagine what she would have done if it had been Dr. Adams in front of her. Dexter. She dared think his name. A thrill rose up inside at the thought.
But she directed her smile at the man in front of her. “Sure.”
“Ciao bella. I’m Gio.”
Her smile grew. What woman would complain about a man speaking Italian to her? She swayed in his arms, wondering how much English he knew. “Ciao. I’m Shawna”
“Are you here studying?” Apparently English was not a problem.
“I am, study abroad.”
“So here for the summer?” His eyebrows rose.
“The whole summer. Well, actually, I’m only in Rome for a few days.”
“Ah, a pity, bella, I was looking forward to more nights like this one. You might like a bit of Italian company while you’re here.”
She considered him. He was being sincere, if not a little forward. “I would, but I won’t be here long. So maybe just this dance.” She didn’t want him to think she was interested in anything more.
Her friends danced by her, moving as though doing a samba, looking ridiculously juvenile. Tiff held up her phone. “Picture!”
Gio pulled her closer and posed for the picture with his face up against her own. “Cheese.”
She laughed.
“You Americans you always say cheese, right?”
“Yes. We do. But that probably sounds ridiculous.”
“No, we do the same thing.” He kept her close, moving around on the floor, swaying to the slower beat. “This is nice. Thank you, Shawna.”
She nodded and felt herself relax.
When the music ended, Gio held her a moment longer. The next song began, a faster beat again. “May I call you?”
“Um, sure.” She could always ignore him. What harm could there be in sharing her number? She typed it into his phone and thanked him again.
He drifted off in the crowd. Tiff joined her. “He was so hot! How are they always after you?”
She ignored the potential insult, two more men stood in front of them and started moving to the beat.
Tiff joined in immediately, moving closer than Shawna would have. But she joined too. She shouted. “I’m Shawna.”
“Tony”
“Mateo.”
She shared an impressed look with Tiff. They were beautiful men. Was everyone in Italy beautiful? At this point, she was pretty sure it was a requirement. Only beautiful people were allowed to live in this country.
Her Billionaire Professor Page 6