His Purrfect Mate(2)

“Chloe!” The dean’s voice rose several notes and ended on a squeal, and she froze in her seat as comprehension dawned on her.

“He’s standing right next to you, isn’t he?”

She swiveled to face her boss, Dean Leibovitz, who appeared to be close to suffering a bout of apoplexy. Standing at his side was a tall, strikingly handsome man with thick wavy hair so black it was almost blue, and eyes of luminous green. He wore a gray raw silk suit that clearly had been hand-tailored, and an amused smile curled his lip. Even if she couldn’t have scented him as a fellow panther shifter, it would have been obvious, from the raw power that rolled off him.

Strange things immediately began happening to Chloe’s body. Her heart shot into her throat, her knees turned to tapioca pudding, and a strange pulsing sensation shivered up between her legs, leaving her alarmingly sensitive. She suddenly felt the urge to press her legs together and squirm in her chair like a cat in heat, but she firmly tamped down the urge and arranged her features in her best “disapproving schoolteacher” expression.

“Chloe, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Kenneth Chamberlin. Mr. Chamberlin has heard about the dire financial straits suffered by the Antiquities department, and has offered to help us out with a most generous endowment. I’m sure that you’d like to personally express your gratitude.” The Dean’s eyes were wild and pleading.

“Oh, don’t be so sure,” Chloe said, baring a crocodile smile which she sincerely hoped made it look as if she were about to pounce.

She didn’t like one single thing about the panther shifter who was standing ten feet away from her.

She didn’t like his ridiculous good looks. He looked like he should be in a Gentleman’s Quarterly ad. Who had cheekbones like that? Whose upper lip was shaped in such a perfect cupid’s bow? It was positively unnatural. His skin was perfect, the Byronic wave of his silky black hair was roguish. It was like he came pre-airbrushed.

She didn’t like the amused gleam in his eye, or the way his gaze roved over her. She wasn’t exactly dressed to seduce – her long wavy brown hair was piled up in a messy bun which she’d stabbed with a pencil and a ballpoint pen to hold it in place – but she knew that some men put her in the “sexy, repressed librarian who needs help loosening up” category, and it appeared that he was one of those men.

“So, I’ll see you tonight at the ball, then?” His voice rolled out in a sensual purr.

Her indignation rose even higher. “This is utterly outrageous. Professor Leibovitz, I will NOT be this man’s date at the ball tonight! I’m a professor, not an escort. I don’t care how much money he’s giving you.”

Kenneth pinned her in place with an amused smile. “Actually, I already have a date for the ball tonight. I was hoping to get to answer your objections to my offer. It would only take a week or two, and the benefit to your department would be substantial. I was told by your T.A. that you were far too busy to speak to me due to your demanding academic schedule…” He managed to lace that statement with a healthy dose of skepticism. “…but I imagine that you could find a few minutes to spare tonight in between waltzes?”

He had a date?

Chloe felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “We’ll see. My dance card’s pretty full,” she bit out, aware that she was now blushing so hard she must be glowing like a Christmas tree ornament.

“Around nine-ish, then. I look forward to it.” And the jerk actually did a polite half-bow kind of thing before he turned and left. Dean Leibovitz shot her a look of pure panic, and scampered after the handsome shifter.

Smug, annoying bastard, she thought furiously, glaring down at the paper which now seemed to be covered by random letters and punctuation marks marching across the page. If ever a panther needed to be declawed, it was Kenneth Chamberlin.

Moments later, her teaching assistant, Henry Bashford, rushed through the office door, aglow with excitement, brushing a shock of bleached blond hair from his pale blue eyes. Of all the times for him to have taken a restroom break. She could have used a little moral support a minute earlier.

“Did you see that paragon of handsomeness that just blessed these hallways?” he asked, plopping himself into his chair. Henry shared her office, squeezing into a tiny desk in the corner on the days that he came in to help her grade papers and meet with students.

“Do you have any idea who that was?” Chloe asked irritably.

“No, but pleeease enlighten me. Unfortunately, he did not trip my gaydar, but I still want to know his name so I can doodle it in my notebook with a heart around it.”