Page 59 of The English Professor

‘I’ll have to get him to explain it to you someday. In his own words. There’s no way anything I can say will do it any justice.’

I don’t catch the rest of his sentence because I’m still hung up on the first part.I’ll have to get him to explain it to you someday. Something in the future. Was there more to this, in Jack’s mind, than a weekend fling?

‘It’s just to say that I’m not the only one with a business,’ Jack finishes. He looks torn. ‘But it seems like I’m the only one who can’t do it, who can’t keep up with it all... Like I’m a restauranteur masquerading as a professor and a professor masquerading as a restauranteur. And in the end, I’m not any of those things.’ He’s quiet.

‘What are you thinking right now?’ I ask.

‘You know, I thought I would hate talking about this, but it actually feels good to have someone else to talk to. I don’t know why I ever kept it a secret from you, Leyna.’

‘I like hearing about your life,’ I admit. ‘I want you to be comfortable talking to me.’

‘I never should have been so secretive.’

‘Is that why you were asking my opinion on everything tonight? To get an impartial opinion?’

His eyes light up and he turns and smiles at me, the corner of his lip is curled in a devilish grin. ‘Yes. And no. I love to watch you experience new things.’

A warm sensation swells inside of me as it unfurls one delectable tendril after another throughout my body until my breathing starts to catch and I feel prickly all over. ‘You do.’ It wasn’t a question. I knew he loved to watch me. I’m sure he took pleasure in watching my reaction to his words right now. Wasn’t that how all of this started, Jack watching me, examining me, studying me while he painted?

He nods. ‘When we go back inside the cottage, I think we’ll do just that. And I’m not going to stop until you’re screaming my name.’

I gasp, but he pays me no attention and continues, ‘And you can scream this time because we’re in the countryside and not a fucking soul other than me is going to hear you.’

Whatever insult I’d imagined is washed away with the tidal wave of desire that sweeps over me. ‘And what makes you think I’ll want to?’ I challenge him. It didn’t even sound believable to my own ears.

He laughs wickedly. ‘Flower... I’m willing to bet that your knickers are soaked already.’

He wasn’t wrong. ‘Well, you’re going to have a lot to make up for, you know. For stringing me along like you were somegarden variety professor.’

Jack laughs. ‘I look forward to the challenge.’

Chapter 30

Leyna

The space is smalland compact, but the lighting is marvellous. The natural light that filters through the two front windows amplifies the strategically placed overhead lights. Each painting is illuminated in just the right way, the crests of mountains and lush green valleys and, of course, lakes. All the paintings are landscapes, different angles of the familiar scenery in the Lake District. I take lots of mental notes, wandering around the tiny space, trying to remember the layout and how they’ve displayed everything. It’s one of my favourite pastimes—seeing how different art galleries present their artwork, how they’ve used the space. In this particular gallery, most of the paintings and drawings are of the local scenery and landscapes, mainly the mountains—we’re in the Lake District after all. Interpretations of the mountains themselves, cyclists on the mountains, hikers. I suppose it’s the type of painting you might like to take home as a memento of your holiday. I chuckle silently to myself. I’m probably the only person who’s come on a secret, sexy getaway with zero interest in the beautiful lakes and mountains that surround us. I’d much rather trail my fingers along Jack’s hills and valleys... I take a final glance at the art—it’s nice, but it’s not my style.

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