I waited until the end of the day, heart pounding with nervous energy, before heading to his office. The hallway was quiet, most students already gone. My short skirt from earlier still clung to my thighs, and the plunging top left little to the imagination. I told myself I was just going to thank him for defending me earlier. Nothing more.
But that was a lie. I knocked softly on his door.
“Come in.”
His voice was deep and controlled, as always. I stepped inside, closing the door behind me with a quiet click.
Professor Damien Vale sat behind his desk, reviewing papers under the warm glow of his lamp. He looked up, dark eyes meeting mine with that familiar professional mask. The was no warmth and no acknowledgment of the tension that had been building between us.
“Miss Blake,” he said
