Page 153 of Ulune's Daughter

“Oh. I-I understand. You’d rather work with Professor Wright?—”

“No!” Luca bursts. “I’ll never work for that asshole. He told me he’s taking over your research. He’s coming in to head the department. I’ll burn every last one of my notes before I turn anything over to him. Take me with you. Wherever you’re going, let me come with you. Is it Anadl Draig? Acacia University? Wherever you’re going, if I can’t transfer there, I’ll finish my degree long-distance?—”

“Luca, Luca.” I cup his face. “I’m not going anywhere. He’s not heading anything. He’s anunpaidvisiting professor. He won’t even have laboratory or special collections privileges. Our work, it’s part of the museum. It’s not under any of the academic departments. If he did manage to get himself hired, we still wouldn’t report to him. Relax.” He does with an effort. “We’re not turning anything over to him. Whatever you did limiting his access to the inscriptions so his team’s translations are off—great job, by the way—it humiliated him. And when Rowan’s humiliated, he swings his dick. That’s all this was.”

Luca swallows. His free hand comes up to rest on my wrist. “He told me you were out. That I’d work for him or I’d be barred from the project.”

“Dick-swinging,” I repeat. “I’ve seen it before. May I have your resignation?”

He blanches but holds it out to me.

I rip it into quarters that I toss into the trash can in the corner with a flick of my claws. “Your resignation is rejected. There’s no parole until graduation.”

He laughs. “I want to continue working with you after graduation.”

“Then there’s really no parole. What are you doing now? Because I’ve seen about two hundred email notifications pop up while I’ve been fielding questions from your classmates, which tells me our paper is creating a stir. I think we need to grab Madame Serpa and have a long lunch to celebrate the translation skills Professor Wright thinks so highly of.”

“If he’s unpaid, that means I’m making more than him,” Luca says smugly.

“You are,” I confirm. Luca’s family probably has more money than Rowan’s, too; a thought that brings me a certain vicious pleasure.

“Then lunch is my treat.” He grins. “Can we go to Cut in New York? My family has a standing reservation.”

“I had steak for breakfast.” I pat my stomach, which still has a little bulge. “How about sushi at my favorite place in San Diego? Not quite as fancy as Wolfgang Puck’s place, but Hiroto and his wife took good care of me for four years when I was on Isla Cedros and I owe them a visit and a thank you.”

“I’d love to meet them. I suppose an afternoon trip to see Isla Cedros is out of the question?”

“The tides and mists are all wrong this time of year. But if you want to see it, we’ll make time over Winter Study when the mists lift. You should see it.”

“Thank you, Kellan.”

I squeeze his shoulder, feeling the firm muscle under my fingers. “You’re welcome. And Luca? Thank you. I can count on the fingers of one hand the people who have shown me the kind of loyalty you did today. I’ll never forget it.”

His smile turns shy. “You deserve it. You’ll always have my loyalty. I want you to know that.”

He’s proved it today. I give him another squeeze before I slip out into the hallway to knock on Jane’s office door.

Chapter47

Eoghan’s Hair

LAW

Islide a canvas bag over my mate’s head with a smile.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Kellan says.

“I’m on a date with the woman I love, of course I’m enjoying it,” I respond.

“Totally not what I meant. And if I break an ankle in these stupid heels, I’m going to make you carry me everywhere.”

I chuckle and lean back to admire my mate’s long legs in her high heels.

“You don’t need to break an ankle to have me carry you everywhere, my queen. I’ll happily do that whenever you ask. And if I haven’t said so, you look beautiful.”

My mate doesn’t favor high heels and tight dresses, which I understand, given her profession. Every time she wears them for me is something to savor. Tonight, she’s donned another of the gowns Larissa bought for her. I’m confident Larissa got it with my family’s formal dinners in mind, since it’s in my mother’s favorite color: a clear, rich red. But she looks delicious in it. The dress skims her curves, cupping her breasts, highlighting her trim waist, and swirling to her knees. It’s sleeveless and strapless, showing off her strong shoulders. There’s a separate cape in the same silky red, with detached sleeves that start half-way down her biceps and end in half-gloves. The cape trails almost to the floor, with barely an inch of clearance due to the red suede mules she’s wearing. The four-inch heels make her legs look insanely long. I can’t wait to wrap those legs around me later.

I toy with the thick hanks of her hair peeking out from under the hood and arrange them over her breasts. Her nipples peak beneath the red silk and I thumb them appreciatively.

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