Chapter One
Nick
I never meant to become the center of a scandal, but one disgruntled client started a rumor that spread like wildfire. Now everyone in my hometown thinks I'm the sort of man who gives "special" massages at my day spa. I'm a massage therapist, not a gigolo, but no one cares about that. Apparently, I've become a "meme" on social media, whatever that means. I needed to get away for a while until the fire snuffs out. Hunkering down in my house only worked until someone found my address, hiding out at my parents' house got bloody boring after three weeks, and my brother's suggestion that I take a holiday for a few weeks didn't appeal to me either. I decided to do something different.
Go back to school. Finish my university degree. And do it in America.
Why? Because it's far away from England and the scandal that's threatening to ruin my career. My right-hand man, Bennett Montague, can handle things while I'm gone.
So here I am walking into a building called Rathbone Hall at a school called Vallefrio University in northern New Mexico. The desert is a new experience for me, but this morning, I have other things on my mind. I'm to meet my faculty adviser, someone called Dr. SJ Griffin, Professor of Mathematics. That's what it says on the bloke's door, anyway. I read those words as I walk through the open door of the office.
A young woman sits at a desk holding a phone to her ear.
When she notices me, she holds up a finger in the universal gesture that means "keep quiet, you arse, I'm busy."
"No, Jimmy," she tells the caller, "I can't cut out early to go to the liquor store and get your loser friends a twenty-four-pack of beer. Get it yourself. We're not dating anymore, which means I'm not your beer slave. Goodbye."
She scowls as she punches her mobile screen to disconnect the call.
"Good morning," I say, smiling. "I have an appointment with Dr. SJ Griffin."
The girl brushes red hair away from her eyes. "Oh right, you're the new…" Her gaze wanders over me, and she bites one side of her bottom lip. "Uh, are you sure you're in the right place? Dr. Griffin's nine o'clock appointment is supposed to be with a new student."
"That's me." But I know I don't look like a student. I'm nineteen years older than when I gave up on my degree, so I can't blame the girl for being confused. "I'm Nick Hunter. Dr. Griffin is expecting me, and yes, I am a new student."
"But you're British and middle-aged."
Middle-aged? I may not be a teenager, but bloody hell, do I look middle-aged?
The girl winces. "Sorry. That came out wrong. It's just that you're, um, older than most of our students. I'm Lana, by the way, Dr. Griffin's graduate assistant. You can wait in here. It should just be a few minutes."
"May I sit down?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
"Thank you, Lana."
She walks out of the office, leaving the door open.
I amble past the desk she vacated, one that clearly belongs to a professor. It has pens and pencils in a coffee mug, a desk calendar with notes scrawled on it, and various math-related things like a protractor and a scientific calculator. Oddly, there's no computer. But there is a lamp and a stack of books with mathy titles.
Wonderful. My adviser is probably an elderly gent who wears bifocals and sniffles all the time.
Two chairs sit in front of the desk, so I settle onto one and prop my feet on the desk's corner. If I have to wait for my crotchety adviser, I might as well get comfortable. Slouching in my chair, I lean my head against its back and close my eyes. The long flight from the UK has left me knackered.
"Ahem," someone says. "Would you mind getting your big feet off my desk?"
That's not a crotchety gent's voice.
I open my eyes—and sit up straighter, pulling my feet off the desk.
The woman standing in the doorway has raven hair and amber eyes, not to mention skin so smooth and creamy that it's like fine alabaster. Her lips are puckered, probably because she's annoyed with me. A tweed skirt suit molds to her body, highlighting her sensual figure, but it still manages to be professional. She's tied her hair up in a bun, and even that makes me hot for her, especially the way a few locks have fallen over her ears.
Well, maybe Dr. SJ Griffin isn't so bad after all.
She takes a seat behind her desk and brings a laptop computer out of the bag she had carried over her shoulder. Setting the laptop to one side, she rolls her chair forward and folds her arms on the desktop. "You're Nicholas Hunter, I presume. Welcome to Vallefrio University. I'm your faculty adviser, Dr. SJ Griffin."
"I know. And you can call me Nick."