Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
A familiar sound distracted him from his thoughts – it was that wince-inducing, braying laugh from the woman again, and Sergei looked up just in time to see the woman flip her hair over her shoulder—-
Sergei had seen countless women do the same thing to attract a man’s attention, and his lips tightened in a strange sense of disappointment at the sight. She might not be different from other women, after all.
But then something odd happened.
The woman succeeded in catching the professor’s eye with her hair flip, but she did so literally, the tips of her fiery locks stinging the professor’s eyes and nearly making him blind instead.
Sergei’s own eyes widened in fascination as the professor grunted in pain.
I take it back, Sergei thought. This woman was different from the rest, after all. In his endless history of dating, Sergei had never once met a woman who could be such a danger to herself or other people while flirting.
Amazing.
“I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” The woman’s shrill voice drew gazes from other patrons, and realizing she had only made more people stare at her, she crossed and uncrossed her legs, visibly nervous and self-conscious. When she did it for the third time, it was either haste or her anxiety getting the better of her, and the woman started to fall off her stool.
PROFESSOR JULIAN ALEXEYEV blinked in surprise when another pair of arms reached for Fredericka Spears at the same time he did. Although he didn’t feel particularly possessive towards his friend, he didn’t let go either, unwilling to relinquish his hold on Fredericka to a stranger.
When Fredericka was back on her stool, only then did Julian let go and turn to the good Samaritan who had appeared out of nowhere—-
His gaze met the stranger’s over the top of Fredericka’s head, and Julian blinked, realizing it was not a stranger after all.
It was none other than Sergei Grachyov, a former student of his, and mild curiosity made the professor’s hidden ennui fade just a bit.
How unlike Sergei to get involved, the professor mused.
“I’m so sorry.” Fredericka’s embarrassed mumble drew the professor’s attention back to her.
“Are you alright?” he asked gently.
“Y-yes.” She deliberately turned her back to Sergei as she spoke, making it very clear that she only had eyes for the professor, and Julian’s lips nearly twitched when he saw Sergei scowl at the snub.
He wondered idly if the younger Grachyov was aware of how blatantly he was staring at Fredericka. Then again, Sergei’s interest was understandable. It took a special kind of man to appreciate Fredericka’s finer qualities. While she was not beautiful in the conventional sense of the word, Fredericka was still immensely striking, with her long fiery hair, smoky gray eyes, lush lips, and ivory skin. And while her clothes weren’t ever stylish, the coltish built of her figure made everything she wore appear effortlessly elegant—-
Fire encased in ice, the professor thought. Only one with a practiced eye would be able to see Fredericka’s hidden fire, but it was clear to see that Sergei Grachyov had recognized the same thing he did.
When Fredericka finished with her barely coherent explanation about why she had fallen off her stool, the professor merely nodded, asking, “You’re certain you’re fine?” He spoke without guilt, not at all bothered by the fact that he was making it seem he had understood her when in fact he didn’t.
Fredericka Spears was a nice gal, and the professor had liked her just enough to be the woman’s friend.
But if Sergei Grachyov was interested in her, then Fredericka Spears was better off with the Russian billionaire.
SERGEI’S LIP CURLED as he heard the professor say in a soft, concerned voice, “I’m worried about you nonetheless. It seems you’ve drunk too much.”
At the professor’s last words, Sergei slowly turned to look at the woman’s glass on the table.
It was half-empty...of orange juice.
When he turned to the woman, he saw that she was staring at her glass as well. She was chewing on her lower lip, visibly torn between saying the truth and staying silent on the off chance that the professor would offer to drive her home.
How ridiculously juvenile, the billionaire thought, but a part of him was aware that his derision was rooted in something he had never experienced—-
Sergei mentally shook his head.
Impossible.
He couldn’t be feeling jealous over this idiot.
“Perhaps I should drive you,” the professor murmured.
The woman’s face lit up, and Sergei had an unreasonable urge to shake some sense into her. How the hell could she be so damn obvious? Did this woman not have any pride at all?
“That w-would be nice,” the woman said finally.
Sergei’s teeth gnashed.
“I’m glad you think so.” The professor paused. “Unfortunately, I have a rather urgent need to go back to the university.”
Sergei’s gaze snapped back to the professor. What the hell? After making it seem he was about to offer the woman a ride, the older man was backing out just like that?