Page 6 of Ulune's Daughter

His grin widens until the tips of his canines peek out below the line of his lip. “That’s definitely not what I meant to say.”

“Then you should reconsider,” I say firmly. “Because there are lines I will never cross with a student.”

He flicks his tooth with his tongue again. “Never?”

“Never.”

He grunts. “Okay, I get it. Would it make a difference if I didn’t take your Winter Study or spring classes and just worked as your TA?”

“No, because you’d still be astudentand I’m still part of thefacultythat awards your grades.”

He stretches on his chair in a way that’s oddly feline, his pale stomach flexing like he wants me to rub it. His light, discerning gaze roams the café. I sense I’ve lost his attention, now that he understands I won’t sleep with him, which I’m guessing is what he was angling for all along.

“Thank you for inviting me to coffee, Luca—” I begin.

His attention sharpens on me again. “Running away?”

“No, but I think we’re done here.”

“You’ll still send me the test? I want to be your TA. I’m absolutely serious about that. If anything I’ve said or done today undermined that, I apologize.”

I have to give him points for knowing when he’s misstepped and being big enough to say he’s sorry.

“Apology accepted. Yes, I’ll email it to you later.”

I already know what I’m going to ask him to research. Although the Magi of the Mist’s runic language developed along its own path, there’s more than one potential antecedent language. Rowan was so dismissive of the possibility that the Magi of the Mist could have come from Russia via a land bridge or by sea, insisting that they came up from South America, pushed north and west by the developing Mayan culture. But I’ve always felt that some of their runes had more in common with Proto-Turkic letter forms than Olmec or Mayan.

The topic is, of course, a huge one, which could encompass multiple theses. But asking him to compare one form isn’t too big of a topic if he already has a good grounding in runology. And if he really is interested, he could expand it into a thesis. He’d be the first to do any serious research in the area, so it’s a wide-open field, if discovery is what he’s craving.

And he could even do it sitting in a chair with his thumb up his ass.

“Thank you,” he says, flashing his canines again. “When I get the position, can we make this a regular thing?”

I lift my eyebrows at him. “This?”

“Coffee after class. I’ve enjoyed talking with you. I don’t—” He shakes his head from side to side, strands of hair falling to frame his eyes. “Most of the other students aren’t interested. They just want to pass their classes. Get the grades they need for an entry-level desk job with the Aedis Astrum. They don’t—” He pauses again and lifts his hand, pressing it into a fist against his chest over his heart, silver rings peeping between the black wrapping around his hand. “They don’t care about it the way I do. They don’t lust after knowledge. They’re not consumed by the need toknow.”

I’m very familiar with those feelings.

I nod. “Yes, we can do this again. Although you’ll understand if I insist on a public place?”

He rubs his hand over his mouth. “I blew it, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“I said it already, but I’ll say it again, I am sorry. I don’t want you to be wary of me. Or afraid of being alone with me. I heard what you said. No means no.”

“No means try harder to some of your peers,” I say, although admittedly I’m not speaking from personal experience. Mitch and Rowan barely pursued me. “So, let’s be very clear: it’s a hard no. I’ve enjoyed talking with you. I like your intellectual curiosity and drive. But you’re a student and I’m your teacher and that’s a line that doesn’t get crossed. In public or in private. Are we crystal clear?”

“As a diamond.”

I ignore a twitch of disappointment at his quick agreement. Would I like a man as intense and intelligent as Luca to pursue me? To want me so badly he’ll fight for me despite my objections? To throw caution and convention to the wind because he just can’t be without me for another minute?

Of course I would.

But I’ve read enough novels to know it’s the woman who pays for that kind of passion. Whether it’s her position in society or her career, it’s the woman who is judged and the woman who loses.

That’s not going to be me.

---