LITMIR.BIZ

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was in the midst of such important work. He had no time for a serious relationship now.

      He slid the book out from under his arm and forced his gaze from her lovely face, knowing that would be a good start. From there, he’d take one step away, then two. He could do it.

      He watched as she combed her fingers through her hair. A long, curling strand fell over her face, wrapping around her chin. Without thinking, he captured the silky lock in his fingertips. His index finger traced her lower lip. His gaze fixed to that full lip as he lowered his head.

      “Jeesh!” cut in a high-pitched voice from behind him. “Would ya get a room already?”

      He jerked his hand away and spun around, finding the owner of the voice, a girl who couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen standing at the end of the row, wearing a typical preteen’s scowl of disapproval.

      “There’s nothing grosser than watching old people kiss. Nasty,” she said to a second girl who stepped around the corner to take her position beside her friend.

      “They were making out back here?” the second girl asked. “Darn, I miss everything.”

      “Come on. They’re done now. Besides it wasn’t exactly pretty.” The first one spun on her heels and dragged her gaping friend away.

      The woman, now behind him, laughed softly. “So, what do you do?” she asked.

      Figuring the show was over, he turned to face her, the sting of embarrassment still burning his cheeks.

      Her eyes widened. “Oh my God! Look at how red you are. You’re not a priest, are you? Did we just commit some heinous sin?”

      His gaze leapt right back up to her face. “Priest? No. Whatever gave you that idea?”

      “The red face for one. And the religious books, I guess. Maybe something else too, something I can’t quite name.” She chewed her lower lip as she studied his face. Oh boy, did he want to taste that lip of hers. He bet she’d taste sweet, like a ripe summer peach or apple. “You have a priesty air about you.”

      “Hmmm. Don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or not.”

      “Considering the respect my mother has for her priest, I would.”

      “Fair enough. Thank you.”

      “I know what it is!” She lifted her index finger. “It’s your soft voice and manner. You move very deliberately and don’t say much, just like Father John.”

      “Ah. Well, thank goodness it wasn’t the wrinkles and stooped shoulders.”

      She squinted, her lips pursed into a cute little pout as she studied his face for a moment. He was mighty tempted to kiss that pout, show her how wrong she was about him being anything like a priest. “Nope. Don’t see a single wrinkle. And your shoulders are a lot of things but stooped isn’t one of them.”

      “That I’ll take as a compliment.” He offered his hand, eager to know her name, just in case…in case he might like to contact her about the relics they both seemed to be hunting. Perhaps she’d even like to work together? It would be a strictly professional arrangement. “Name’s Ric Vogel. I’m a professor of natural science at Midwestern Michigan University.”

      “Aha! A professor! Now that makes sense. You seem like the professor type.” She tipped her head down just slightly and batted eyelashes long enough to be illegal in at least a few dozen states as she wrapped her dainty hand around his.

      He really liked the way that felt. A wave of warmth washed over him. Heat settled low, below his belt. “I thought I was the priest type,” he teased, adoring the way her face lit up whenever she had a light-bulb moment. He could practically see the bulb blinking over her head.

      “I’m not too proud to admit I made a mistake. You definitely fit the professor image more than the priest. It’s your eyes. And my name’s Sophie. Sophie Hahn. It’s nice to meet you.” She gave his hand a single pump up and down and then wiggled her fingers until he released her hand.

      “Sophie,” he repeated. “I tell you what, why don’t we share this book? We can go sit at a desk over there”—he motioned toward a row of tables in a quiet corner—“and read over the material together.”

      “Wow. That sounds great but…” She checked her wristwatch and frowned. “I’ve got to get back to the office. My lunch hour’s just about over. Maybe we can meet somewhere later tonight?”

      “I have an introduction to biology class tonight from six to eight-thirty.”

      “Poop. I don’t get off until six. What if I meet you at your classroom at eight-thirty? Would that be okay? I’ll need directions. I’ve never been on Midwestern’s campus.”

      “Sure. That’ll be perfect.” He checked his pockets for something to write with but he knew he didn’t have anything. Empty-handed, he motioned toward her purse, hanging from her shoulder. “Do you have something to write with?”

      “Oh. Yes. I suppose that would help.” She dug through the contents of her purse until she produced an envelope from an electric bill and a pen with a chewed-up cap. “Please ignore the mangled cap. My boss eats all my pens.” She handed them to him.

      “Not a problem.” He set the book on his bent knee and used it as a makeshift desk as he wrote the directions on the envelope. “I’ll see you later, then. Maybe we can get some coffee?” He handed the envelope and pen back to her. His fingers brushed hers and another wave of warmth spread through his body, leaving ripples of wanting in its wake.

      “I’m not much of a coffee drinker, especially at night. I’d be up all night long if I drank even half a cup.” She smiled.

      He swallowed a goofy sigh. That was one killer smile. He wondered if she knew how deadly it was to a guy. His lower parts ached, and his teeth ached from gritting against the other ache. He was just an overall aching mess. “Fair enough.” He stood there, book in hand, feeling awkward and self-conscious and very, very horny. The horny part didn’t surprise him but the awkward and self-conscious part did. He’d had more than his share of women in his bed. Why did this one make him feel so flustered and unsure? It wasn’t like she’d done anything to make him feel that way. Chatty, friendly, and cute, she hardly gave a superior air. Yet when she looked at him with those golden-brown eyes, he squirmed like a kindergartner in church.

      He hoped by tonight he’d be back to his cool, composed self. More than that, he hoped he could keep his true nature from her for just a little longer. She needed more time yet. More time to accept the impossible.

      Chapter 3

      After work, Sophie made a quick stop at Dao’s house. Lisse answered the door, shooing her away by telling her Dao was sleeping but had a doctor’s appointment in the morning. Sophie wasn’t sure if she believed her, but at the moment she was willing to trust Lisse was telling the truth.

      She hurried home, picked at a Lean Cuisine, and freshened up, changing into a comfy pair of jeans and white top that showed off the hint of an early summer tan. She slid on a pair of high-heeled mules to make her stumpy legs look a little longer and headed out to the campus.

      It had been a while since she’d been on a college campus, eight years to be exact. But she still remembered the feeling of being a student, racing across campus to make her next class, cramming for exams, going to parties in cramped dorm rooms. The memories made her smile. The parking situation, however, didn’t.

      She found Adams Hall without a problem. A three-story structure of glass and steel, it sat in the middle of a circle of similar buildings. The shared parking lot was at least a couple of football field lengths away. And crammed to capacity. Sure, if she’d waited until after eight-thirty to arrive, it probably would’ve been empty, but Sophie had to admit she was so anxious to see the good-looking professor—for a number of reasons—she hadn’t wanted to wait. As a result, she was twenty minutes early and forced to search the back

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