Page 45 of The Professor's Possession (Crystal River Billionaire Brothers)

I chuckle.

“So, do you usually go drinking with boys your age?” I ask her playfully.

Olivia doesn’t fall for my trap. She just glares at me with her pretty eyes, unwilling to answer.

Yep. Certainly a contest.

“Let me show you around,” I say, moving on.

Olivia silently follows me, clutching her glass of wine close to her breasts.

I point her upstairs. “Bedroom and restroom number one.” Then to the other restroom. “Number two.” Then downstairs to the living room, and then finally to my bookshelf.

This is clearly Olivia’s favorite part of my house. She breaks her silence; immediately leaning over and reading – out loud - the titles of the books I have on the shelves. She gasps admiringly at the collection.

“Wow, you’ve got an amazing taste in books,” she comments, impressed.

“Well, I am an English Literature professor,” I reply. “Having an amazing taste in the written word is kind of in the job description.”

She blushes. “Yeah, right. Makes sense.”

As she pulls back from the bookshelf, our hands accidentally brush. The contact of our skin makes her face redden even more, and she ducks to look away. I can practically sense her profound longing for me as our fingers intertwine.

I can discern that she is unaccustomed to a gentleman of my demeanor. Like she said, she’s only had experience of inexperienced boys her own age.

I am loving this thrill of the chase. I am loving how I can show her how a real man acts with a woman he wants.

“Let’s sit at my desk,” I suggest. I guide her over to the table where I’ve printed off the essay she’s sent to me. “I’ve written down some suggestions already.”

“You have?” she asks, seemingly surprised at my preparation.

“Like having an amazing taste in books, assessing the work of my students is also in my job description,” I reply. “Let’s get started on reviewing what you have done, shall we? You can read it and I’ll wait patiently.”

Olivia, arms folded, counters, "how about you spare me the silent scrutiny and just tell me what I did wrong? I'd rather not spend the whole night reading your critique while you stand over me like some kind of ghoul."

Is she putting up a show of force, or is it the wine talking? I raise an eyebrow. "Getting a bit confrontational after a sip or two?" I ask.

She meets my gaze with defiance. "It's not the wine, but my pride. I've never received anything less than top marks for an English Literature essay in my life. I feel like you were out to get me unfairly, and I want to find out why."

"Questioning my teaching ethics now? My, you are a bold one. Let's make this a collaborative session, Miss Weldon."

"Okay,” she retorts mulishly. “Fine. But just spill it. Spare the theatrics. What was so terrible about my work that you had to give me such a low grade? I want to hear it from the horse's mouth, okay?"

I can't help but smile.

She’s really doesn’t want to go down without a fight.

I like the spunk in her. This devotion to her work. Her stubbornness reminds me of me, and how I never take criticism lying down.

As I gaze into her beautiful brown eyes, I say, "I particularly take issue with your argument about the role of dreams in Gothic fiction. Your case against the importance of dreams is ill-defined, lacking examples. Your work feels rushed."

"Alright, Professor Penmayne," she retorts. "Tell me, why are dreams such crucial literary devices in Gothic fiction?"

I like this game. I appreciate how she challenges my intellect. No one has dared to do this to me for quite a while, and I am more than ready for a battle of the minds with the stunning girl.

“Dreams offer a window into a character’s soul,” I tell her. “They reveal the innermost desires of the character. Their fears. Their hopes. The ethereal realm of dreams provides a canvas for exploring the character's unspoken passions, anxieties, and yearnings, offering readers a profound insight into the complexities of their psyche. In their dreams, characters can begin to understand what they are truly after.Whothey are truly after.”

“You mean dreams can inform someone what other person they want to pursue?” Olivia asks softly.

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