Searching for Mine(2)
Who would’ve thought a drab English professor could be so ruthless?
He regrouped and assessed the situation. Tilting his head, he stared right back, refusing to back down. “I think the story was ridiculous and contrived. It was a big whine fest of a character trapped in a room, obsessed with the wallpaper but not enough guts to get herself out of the situation. That’s what I thought about the story.”
The class tittered. He waited for her attack, knowing he’d challenged her in class, which was her natural terrain. Still, Connor didn’t care. That story sucked and it was a relief to admit it.
A small smile touched her lips. “A fair and honest assessment,” she concluded.
He grinned.
“By a reader who has no idea what he’s reading. By a reader who has no desire to try and follow the writer or do more than lazily lay back and wait for the car wrecks, or sex scene, or shootout. We’ve become a society who wants so badly to be entertained, without using a brain cell, and refuses to do the work to engage and follow greatness. Frankly, Mr. Dunkle, you disappoint me. I had expected much more of you.”
His grin disappeared.
She walked away on soundless shoes and pointed to the blackboard. “Maybe we can salvage it for the rest of the class. Let’s begin.”
Connor held back a groan.
This was going to be a bitch of a semester.
Chapter Two
“I thought how unpleasant it is to be locked out; and I thought how it is worse, perhaps, to be locked in”––Virginia Woolf
Ella watched her students file out of class but her attention was focused on one particular individual.
Connor Dunkle.
She sensed a play coming on, and she was actually going to enjoy it. Teaching provided her a sick sense of satisfaction when she got to take an egotist, smug person and knock them down a few notches. It also offered a perfect conduit to change the thinking and view of the world one student at a time. Sure, sometimes she felt as if she made no difference with her classes. But once in a while, she lasered in on a student who needed to be challenged.
“Professor Blake? Can I talk to you a moment?”
She turned, and right on cue, there he was. Ella hid her smile and wondered how the first round would fare. She’d pegged him from the first day, but sometimes a student surprised her.
“Yes, Mr. Dunkle?” She peered over her thick-framed glasses. She could’ve picked trendy or delicate frames, but she liked the way these intimidated her students. “What can I do for you?”
His charming grin could’ve short-circuited the light bulbs or rendered one speechless. Had she ever seen such perfect white teeth? The man was a walking delectable treat for the female vision, but Ella had prepared. She checked in with her body and was quite pleased. Other than a recognizable hum between her thighs, she was completely in control. Of course, he didn’t know that. Ella judged there weren’t many offers Connor made that were turned down. The reason was all six foot five inches that towered over her desk with lean, cut muscles evident beneath his casual clothes. Dirty blond hair lay messily over his brow. He wore it long, and the thick strands curled around the edge of his ears. His face was sculpted quite beautifully, from the high cheekbones, full lips, and perfect dimples. He reminded her briefly of a young Robert Redford from her favorite movie, The Way We Were. Sure, Redford was old now, but Ella believed the greats like Newman and Redford and Brando paved the way for Pitt and Hemsworth. And damned if her fingers didn’t itch just once to brush those gold streaked strands from his forehead.
His eyes delivered the final one-two punch. Crystal blue swirled with a touch of green, clear as glass and deep as the sea. Eyes like that could mesmerize prey, but Ella had tons of practice restraining messy desires. She met his gaze, ignoring the tiny tumble in her belly, and kept her gaze on the prize.
“Yes?” she asked with a bit of impatience. He blinked, somewhat confused she hadn’t ducked her head or stuttered. Oh, this one needed a reality check. Had he ever been rejected? Or was he one of the lucky ones who slid through life unscathed by others? Huh. Another similarity to Redford’s character. She was going to have to re-rent that movie again.
“I think there was a misunderstanding,” he began. His body language reeked of open friendliness with just a touch of sex. His navy blue T-shirt stretched tight across his chest, and his jeans were worn low on his hips, which were now cocked in a very appealing angle. He tilted his head to ensure intimacy, and damned if his dimples hadn’t popped out. Oh, he was good.
He held out the paper. “I got an F. I apologize again for turning it in late. See, I’m about to graduate with a business management degree. I need to pass this course.” His smile held well. “When we last spoke, I assumed you understood my position and told me it was acceptable to turn it in a few days late.”