Page 5 of Filthy Professor

After nearly snorting a pepperoni, I glanced back at him. “Well, thank you for putting it in jeopardy for me.”

He laughed. “Wanting to do a story about me twenty years after my discovery was intriguing. And the timing couldn’t be better.”

I leaned forward. This was it. The thing that could turn this piece around. After meeting him, I didn’t want to write a has-been piece. He was way more fun than I’d even imagined. The scent of cedarwood and mint hit me as I leaned closer, the desire to be near him having to do more with my attraction to him than the secret. “So, are you ready to tell me about that? Should I take notes?”

He smiled. “Let’s finish eating first,” he said, before taking a giant bite of his pizza.

I pursed my lips. “Tease.”

Harrison swallowed and grinned. “Maybe I don’t want you to rush out of here just yet. You get what you want and you’ll run away. It makes me feel cheap.”

Holy crap, he’s funny. And people thought archaeology was boring. His lecture had been amusing and animated, so it was plain to see he was a great professor. “Do you miss it? Digging in the dirt, getting filthy, the discoveries?”

His hazel eyes locked on mine. “Has the interview started? Anyone would think you haven’t been listening to what I keep saying about food. Do I need to keep you after class?”

My throat went dry, thoughts of what he would do to punish me running through my head. How would he be in bed? Did I want to be punished by him? I really did. “I am being a bad girl, aren’t I?”

He leaned forward, his nose practically touching mine as he whispered, “So bad.”

I swallowed, my body heating as the server came to refill our waters, but Harrison’s gaze never left mine, even when I leaned back. I wanted to do all sorts of wicked things with this man, which seemed insane considering we’d just met. But his heated gaze went right through me, and I wanted him.

Needing to steer this back to professional again, I shook my head, breaking eye contact. “I didn’t intentionally start the interview . . . I was curious, but depending on your answer, maybe we are. Why did you give it all up, anyway?”

Picking up his slice of pizza, he sighed. “I was afraid . . .”

“Of what? Off the record.”

He shrugged, then took a bite and chewed it slowly before continuing. “That there wouldn’t be anything else to discover. That I’d lose my girlfriend at the time if I kept traipsing about the world. Traveling was never really her thing. So I settled down, married her, and found the most stable job I could think of that was still in the area of what I loved.”

I sat up straighter at the mention of a wife. I’d been allowing myself to be attracted to him, and that should have been the cold bucket of water over the head that I needed, but he’d been flirting with me too. I hadn’t been imagining the innuendo, the tone in his voice and his heated gaze. My eyes dropped to his left hand.

No ring.

He must have noticed me looking because he flexed his hand. “Didn’t last, anyway.”

My eyes shot back up to his. “Oh, divorced?”

He nodded. “I was unhappy . . . for a long time. After staying in one place for so long, I told her I couldn’t do it anymore, and we called it quits.”

Even though I ached to ask how long ago it was, I let it go for now. It must not have been long if he was still in the same place rather than traveling again. I pursed my lips. “But you’re still here, teaching?”

“That’s about to change . . . on the record?”

“If you like.”

Harrison hummed, the sound again shooting right through me. “How long are you in Chicago for?”

My mouth dropped open. Was he going back to coming on to me now? The shift into professional didn’t seem to last long. “Uh, I was planning on driving back today. I don’t live that far. I’m from Wisconsin.”

Nodding, Harrison said, “It’s going to be too noisy in here soon. How about somewhere quieter for the actual interview? My apartment?”

The water I’d just sipped got stuck in my throat, and I coughed. “Your apartment?” I repeated, my body heating all over. Was that what I wanted? The subtext was clear. He was attracted to me, and the shameless flirting could lead to more if I wanted it to. He was letting me decide.

“If you want to, or we could do the interview over the phone. We could have done that in the first place.” His heated gaze locked on mine as it hit me.

He was giving me an out.

I would get my interview regardless. Harrison wouldn’t pressure me into anything. He was shooting his shot. My mouth went dry again, a million thoughts racing through my head, but I kept coming back to one.

---