Page 50 of My Forbidden Professor

The plane’s wheels bouncing against the tarmac jar me back to the present moment. My heart is pounding as I shuffle along with the crowd toward the terminal, utterly directionless.

I don’t even have luggage.

Then a fleeting thought cuts through the fog in my head—her father’s business empire.

Of course. A long shot. But if there’s any conceivable place to start chasing even a whisper of a lead, it would be there. I take a cab and give the driver the address, settle into the back seat and wait out the New York traffic until we pull up in front of the massive Blue Sky headquarters.

Feet pounding the sidewalk, I burst through the polished front doors with such force the security guard gives me a sharp look. I bypass him without a second thought, gaze frantically searching for...I don’t even know what exactly.

That’s when I nearly careen straight into someone. A startled squeak sounds from the woman as a cascade of chestnut curls flies in a brief flurry around her face. A sense of familiarity passes over me for an instant but then it’s gone.

“God, I’m sorry!” I blurt out, hands shooting up reflexively as if to catch her.

“It-it’s fine, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she says. Her gaze roams over my face and then my body, no doubt taking in my disheveled appearance. “Are you...can I help you with something?”

I try to flatten my hair but I know I’ve run my fingers through it too many times for it to stay down. I don’t know this woman, but I can’t squander this chance, not when it could potentially lead me one step closer to Steph.

“Please,” I blurt out, taking a half-stride closer without thought. “I...God, this is going to sound insane, but do you happen to know anything about a woman named Stephanie Chandler? She goes by Steph.”

I must look properly deranged based on the flash of uncertainty that flickers across her features. But to her credit, she doesn’t immediately recoil or write me off as some raving lunatic.

“I can’t just hand out personal information on the family,” she says carefully after a beat. “But...I may be able to pass along a message, if you’d like? Let Ms. Chandler decide if she wishes to reach out in response.”

“So you do know her!” Hope surges through me. I contain myself through sheer force alone. No one will help a crazy person. “Yes! Yes, please, anything...I just need to get a message to her, no matter how small.”

The woman’s eyes narrow slightly as she assesses me with that same strange, piercing quality as before.

“All right, I can try,” she says at last. “But first, I need to know who I’d be extending this message from. You are...”

I draw in a deep, grounding breath.

“My name is Jacob Black,” I rasp out hoarsely. “And I’m the man in love with Stephanie Chandler.”

Finally, one sculpted eyebrow arches. “Is that so? Exactly how would you propose I qualify the authenticity of your request?”

I can’t lie. There’s no other way forward than to be totally honest. Completely raw.

“You’re right to be cautious. I know how this sounds—a strange man claiming to be in love with the daughter of one of the wealthiest families in the city. But I’m not after money or anything underhanded, I swear it.”

I spear my fingers through my hair. God, that sounds like something every other man would say. I swallow hard. “I don’t know if she’s told you about the dissertation we’re working on together. She’s brilliant. So much more intelligent than I’ll ever be. And beautiful. Charming. Caring. Funny. Anyway…

“The connection we have. She…makes me want to be a better man, brings light and purpose into my life like I’ve never experienced before. My feelings for Steph are real, raw, the most honest thing I’ve ever known. She’s...everything to me.

“Those recent pictures… I should have been there, should have protected her. But instead, I failed her in the worst way. I need to make that right, to show her that what we have is so much bigger than gossip or social standing…”

I stop and take in the woman again. That’s where I know her from. She was in one of the pictures with her arm around Tristan Booker, another well-known name in the business world. “You…you’re in those pictures. You do know Steph.”

She crosses her arms and throws her shoulders back in a defensive stance. “I know Steph. Which is why, if you’re here looking to harass or hurt her in any way, you’re going to be sorry.”

The protective threat in her tone isn’t lost on me. I shake my head, holding my hands up in a placating gesture. “No, no, hurting Steph is the absolute last thing I want. I’ve already hurt her enough by not being there when she needed me most. I should have told her how I felt weeks ago. But it’s all coming out wrong, all backwards. I’m just...I’m a mess.”

The woman’s piercing eyes bore into me for a long, stretching moment. Then, almost imperceptibly, the tension in her shoulders seems to release as the faintest of smiles ghosts across her full lips. “Well, if the guy’s not a hopeless mess over the woman he loves, then he must not really love her, isn’t that right?”

A lone laugh bursts from me when her words register. “You’ll help me?”

She bites out the words with a fierce protectiveness. “Only because Steph means everything to me too. She’s practically a sister. And now I know the reason she’s holed up at her home and ignoring my messages.”

“Thank you, this means so much,” I reel slightly under a weight of gratitude and blazing determination, feeling nauseous that she’s suffering because of me.

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