Page 9 of Savage Surrender

This woman, my target to spy on, would be a challenge.

And I couldn’t wait to pursue her.

Even though she didn’t look up at me once as she chose a seat and sat in it, I was aware that I’d have my work cut out for me. She wouldn’t make this easy. She wouldn’t be cooperative. I could guess it in the simple consideration of her regal posture and the almost stern press of her lips.

I couldn’t single her out—yet. Right now, I had to focus on establishing my cover as a professor, and that meant beginning this first class. Fortunately, this distraction by Irina’s beauty wouldn’t hinder me from pulling that off. First days of classes were usually nothing more than a prolonged hello and welcome to the course. Reading off and paraphrasing the syllabus was often the norm for day one, and I hadn’t even spent much time collecting the material for the syllabus. Reusing what the previous professor had left behind had made it an easy, streamlined chore.

Everyone in the room settled into their seats to peer down at me. Once the collective silence turned into a simmering patience for something to happen, I cleared my throat. Tearing my gaze from the spot where Irina was seated was a conscious effort I had to focus on.

“Welcome to American English History.” I looked around at the sea of faces, determined not to give Irina any particular interest. Letting my awareness of her be too obvious would be a grave mistake, and I was more seasoned than that.

She couldn’t recognizeme, not when I’d spent so much of my time as a Baranov soldier and member of the family behind the scenes, at the whorehouses and not “in circulation” as other soldiers and guards she might have seen before. Likewise, this was the first time I’d spotted her in person, versus in a photo.

“I’m Professor Remi, and I’ll be starting this semester off with a preview of my expectations for the course.”

Was I speaking with a dry, monotone effort? Yes. Did I care? No. If they all perceived me as an unfun professor, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t here to win any awards. I was here to do my job and do it well.

Starting the lesson with an overview of the syllabus was a boring way to kick things off. It was obvious that the students weren’t enthusiastic about what I said. Listing out class rules, bulleting the expectations on assignments, and reviewing the grading rubric, I bored them all to death. Still, as I spoke, the shine of lust didn’t dim from all the women watching me.

All of them—except Irina.

Throughout my spiel, she didn’t give me a direct look once. Her deliberate avoidance of making eye contact couldn’t be a mistake or a fluke.

But why?She couldn’t know I was a Mafia man. So why would she be this recalcitrant to facing me, just one of many professors here on campus?

Then she slipped. She broke her stubbornness not to look at me, not to give me attention. With one glance, she peered at me, almost lifting her lips in an expression of annoyed disapproval.

Aha.There was my proof that she had something against me.

What is it?She doesn’t like being told what to do, and hearing my reading of the syllabus reminded her that she had to deliver on expectations?

Why’s she so cool toward me?Even if I wasn’t giving a boring lecture, she could regard me with a basic lack of interest, not something like sassy irritation. Other students looked halfway asleep but they didn’t almost glare at me.

The longer I droned on, the more my mind wandered. She was my focus, and it didn’t take much energy or creativity on my part to start to fantasize about making her lose that attitude.

Would she scowl and lash out if I tried to kiss that smirk on her face? Or would she pull me closer and want more?

Would she push me away and fight me back if I tried to haul her over my lap and spank her ass red? Or would she moan and wiggle against me for something harder?

Fuck.I couldn’t let myself get carried away. I couldn’t keep thinking about her like this. If I did, I’d get hard, and I doubted that would be a stellar image on my first day of being a professor here, even if I’d gotten here by fraudulent means.

As I finished up, summarizing the assignment of what would need to be read and reviewed before next week’s class, I glanced up and checked the class’s reactions.

The second I caught her rolling her eyes, I paused.

Oh, that sass…Once more, I was intrigued.

She muttered something under her breath, something only for her ears to hear. But the sight of her plump lips moving was enough for me to narrow my eyes.

“What’s that?” I asked.

Putting her on the spot was a deviation from how I’d handled this lecture so far. I hadn’t asked a student anything. I hadn’t spoken to anyone directly.

Until now.

She pushed me, though, and I waited calmly for her to answer me.

“Excuse me?” she asked. Her thin brows arched in a silent question.

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