“Go inside,” he commands. “And lock the door behind you.”
I obey, darting inside and snapping the door closed between us. His low, arrogant chuckle sounds through the wood. My insides turn molten.
I want my professor, and he doesn’t seem remotely worried about having a forbidden relationship with his student.
17
KAROLINA
The next morning, I attend my lecture on medieval art without incident. I’m grateful that Rand doesn’t teach this class. I’ll have to face him again on campus in a few days, and I have no idea how I’ll make it through his lecture without thinking about his hand touching mine.
In our private moments, it’s so tempting to interact with him like he’s my equal, not my professor.
Allowing myself to get swept up in our undeniable chemistry would be beyond reckless.
No matter how he’s consumed my thoughts since our not-date at the café.
Now that class has finished for the day, I can’t even go for a long run to burn off my frustrated energy. Instead, I decide to go for a walk through the more populated parts of town.
This is an excellent opportunity to explore Clifford’s Tower: the ruined keep of a Norman castle originally built on the orders of William the Conqueror.
I stare up at the ancient masonry, which sits atop a steep hill that once served as a defensive bank. A carpet of lush green grassascends towards the bright blue Yorkshire sky, and the sun is angled low to frame the imposing tower.
I breathe deeply, allowing myself a moment to bask in the beauty of this historic place. Gratitude floods my chest with warmth.
Five years ago, Karolina Taylor was running from the nightmare of her foster home. Despite all the horrors I’ve endured, I’ve built a good life for myself here in York.
I won’t allow my stalker to take this from me.
As though the bastard senses my errant thought about him, my phone pings.
My gut tightens, but I force myself to check the message. Ignoring him won’t keep me safe, no matter how badly I want to pretend he isn’t a threat.
Anonymous
You look beautiful in the sunshine. Did you know you have auburn threads in your hair? They’re shining right now.
I force a breath into my tight chest.
Karolina
I know my own hair color. Fuck off.
Anonymous
That’s my brave girl.
My heart races. This sick asshole likes my defiance.
Replying is only giving him what he wants: access to me.
I find Rand’s contact details and connect a call.
He answers on the second ring. “Lena. Are you okay?”
“Not really,” I admit. “He’s texting me again. I think he’s somewhere near Clifford’s Tower.”
“Are you alone?”