I find myself standing up straighter and walking with more confidence. There's nothing like female appreciation to put a spring in a bloke's step.
The door to Dr. Griffin's office is open, so I walk right in.
She's sitting behind her desk, staring at her computer screen. Those reading glasses perch on her nose.
Even that turns me on.
"Good morning, Dr. Griffin," I say as I stroll past her desk and drop into the chair across from her. I prop my feet on the desk's edge, crossing my ankles. "You look gorgeous this morning."
She turns only her eyes, which are large and unblinking, to look at me. "What are you doing here? Classes don't start until Monday."
"But I'm in desperate need of advising."
Dr. Griffin does look incredible today. I got a good look at her outfit when I walked into her office. She's wearing a skirt that molds to her hips and thighs, a blouse that clings to her bosom, and open-toed shoes that have just enough of a heel to make her ankles even more enticing. She's tied her hair back in a loose bun again. The reading glasses she'd worn yesterday, with their half lenses and pink rims, complete her ensemble.
And all of it makes me want to shag her right here on her desk.
"Please don't waste my time, Mr. Hunter," she says, swiveling her chair to face me. "I have lots of work to finish today, and babysitting you isn't on my to-do list."
Babysitting? She's trying to annoy me, for sure.
Suddenly, I have a brilliant idea.
"Maybe I can help you," I say. "With your work, I mean. I have run a business for years, which means I know how to get things done."
Dr. Griffin bites her bottom lip while roving her gaze over my entire body. "Why aren't you wearing cowboy boots anymore?"
To impress you.
I think those words, but I say, "I'm trying to project a professional image. Studying business is a serious endeavor, so I thought I should look the part."
"Undergraduates don't wear suits." Her brows pull together over her lovely nose. "Come to think of it, neither do grad students or faculty."
"But you dress well."
"I'm the exception. Most professors go business casual these days." She twirls a lock of hair around her finger, over and over, probably without realizing she's doing that. Her gaze wanders over me again. "I, um, like your suit. It's very…professional."
"Thank you."Can I get a leg over with you now?I keep that question to myself. "Check your email. I've sent you something I thought you'd like to see."
"What is it?"
The look on her face almost seems like fear. Does she think I've sent her a demonic message that will drag her into Hell?
"It's my business plan," I say, "the one I drafted when I opened my day spa. Since you're my adviser, I wanted you to see it."
And yes, for some strange reason, I need her to read my business plan and be impressed. I can't figure out why I care what she thinks of me, but I do. I need this woman to see me as a mature man who takes his work seriously.
"How did you get my email address?" she asks.
"Faculty emails are listed on the university website."
"Oh. Right." Dr. Griffin's eyebrows draw together, but she does start fiddling with her computer, so I assume she's reading the document I sent her. After a moment, her brows lift. She swerves her gaze to me. "You wrote this?"
"That's right. I found a template online and fleshed it out with details relevant to my company."
"It's, um…quite good, actually."
Why does she sound so bloody surprised?