Page 17 of The Pakhan's Secret Baby

Smoke pours from chimneys overhead into the bright blue sky, reminding me it's still winter, but now instead of enjoying the brief respite from winter, my heart feels stormy and angry.

I round the corner toward the classroom door, and ram into someone so hard I stumble backward.

"Oh God," I mutter as I catch myself and lean on the brick exterior. When my eyes sweep up, they're staring into the most dazzling brown eyes. My throat constricts, and my eyes drop to the cleft in his chin, then my stomach flips. "Rashid," I breathe, as he hands me a single white rose.

I haven't seen him in three years.

We live in the same city, and it isn't like I tried to hide from him on purpose, but I never went near that club or that side of town again after that night.

I glance over my shoulder, feeling panic instantly hit my gut.

Did he see me with Irina?

Does he know about Lex?

"Emory," he croons, offering a soft smile.

What the hell is this man doing at my college? And why after all this time has he come looking for me?

I freak out, grabbing his wrist instead of the flower, and pull him around the corner of the building where hopefully no one can see us.

We stand behind a large barren bush, and my heart races so fast I think it might run away with me.

"Rashid, what are you doing here?" I'm breathless, terrified someone might recognize who he is and think I'm doing something illegal.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" He oozes charm, again offering me the flower. "It took me years to find you. You left without a note or even a hint. I had to learn your last name from facial recognition on social media. God, you're still every bit as beautiful as you used to be."

I think I may vomit.

I can't take that flower.

To do so would only encourage him to continue pursuing me.

He cannot pursue me.

Oh my God, I have a baby with his face and if he finds out...

"Rashid, you can't come here to my college. People know—" He doesn't know that I know. But I do know. And I don't want anyone else to know.

"Are you ashamed of me,milaya?" He steps closer and I smell him. God it's heavenly, but it's deadly in the same breath. "Have dinner with me. Let's catch up. I know I'm so much older, but..."

"No," I say firmly, and I push the flower back gently. "I can't have dinner with you, Rashid. What happened was..." If I call it a mistake will this criminal—probably a murderer—get angry? And what will he do then? "It was a one-time thing. Okay? And I have classes. I have to go."

My hands are shaking as I try to squeeze past him, fearing he won't let me. He's twice my size and easily able to pin me to this wall, or hurt me.

I can't believe I just slept with him and didn't even stop to think about what might happen in the future.

How stupid could I be?

"Of course,” he says, stepping aside. "But I want to catch up."

"I can't... I have to go," I repeat, finally free from the shock. But my body trembles, every step of the way to my desk, long after the bell has rung and the professor has started class.

I can't take my coat off—I'm shivering and too cold to even unbutton it.

And I can't focus.

Not even when I pull my portfolio out and spread my paintings on my desk.