Page 35 of The Professor's Possession (Crystal River Billionaire Brothers)

Yeah,right. A run in the direction of Byron Street.

A run toward my incredibly handsome and intriguing professor.

* * *

Just as Ava told me,you cannot miss Professor Penmayne’s place.

He’s right in the middle of Byron Street. I’ve not been here on my little travels around town yet. It’s a leafy area of Crystal River, not far from CRU. Really nice townhouses dot the street, and his is the nicest one of all. Of coursehisis.

I think it’s safe to say I would never be able to afford a place like this in a million years. With the sheer size and elegant stonework facade, it is pretty damn evident he belongs to a billionaire family. This place would cost a pretty penny, I bet.

The two-story townhouse exudes a timeless elegance. There are perfectly clipped shrubs lining the outside and decorating the manicured lawn. Large picture windows mark the outside.

It’s the late afternoon and the streets around here are empty. No one walks in this part of Crystal River; they’ve all got their fancy sports cars to flash around in.

My running stalls as I pass the townhouse on the sidewalk.

I can’t help myself, I justgottalook.

It seems like no one’s home. No lights. No movement from inside.

I can see that one of the front windows has unrestricted access into the living room.

And so I do something I would never usually do.

I jump the gate and head toward the house.

What are you doing, Olivia?

But I can’t help myself. I’m just curious as to what his place looks like on the inside, that’s all. I can’t imagine a man like the professor at home -relaxingin his PJs - or what his interior design might be like. And, besides, I’m not going to go inside or break in or anything. I am simply having a quickpeekinside the pad, as I’ve planned. All so innocuous.

I tut at myself even as I dart onto the professor’s property.

Such a tenuous and weak justification for what I’m doing...

I glance into his living room. It’s all so elegantly refined with high ceilings and coffee-brown wood paneling. I spot a large bookcase.

And he’s suddenly there, standing at the doorway to the room. Facing my direction. He’s on the phone.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

I immediately duck down, hoping –praying– that he didn’t see me. My heart is pounding in my chest and I curse myself for having the stupid gall to jump over his gate in the first place.

What the hell am I doing?

As I lie in front of my professor’s house, my back against the wall, I can hear his muffled voice on the other side of the glass as he talks on his phone.

I can’t make out what he’s saying, but it’s low and serious.

He seems to always be on the phone - here and at The Oak – and he always seems to have dark and grim conversations. I wonder if he’s talking to the same person.

I gotta get out of here. I’m doing the wrong thing.

Keeping low on the ground, I make my way to his gate. Quickly, I jump back over to the safety of the public sidewalk.

Wow. I’m really becoming a stalker, aren’t I?

I risk a glance over my shoulder. There he is. Still standing in his living room next to the impressive bookcase with his phone raised to his ear. I don’t think he’s seen me. He doesn’t seem alarmed or anything.

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