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I was pregnant with his child. Pregnant. With my professor’s child.

If this came out, he would lose his job and I would lose my place at university.

“Julie?”

I flinched and focused on him.

“Now.”

Overwhelmed, I broke eye contact and rushed forward past David, who was staring at me intently.

Deep down, I prayed he hadn't noticed any of this. Maybe there was a stone on the hose of his emotional intelligence, just like there was on mine. At least, I hoped so.

Focus, Julie. Focus.

What did he want again? Oh, right... test tubes... over to David...

I turned back around to go to the table near my professor, hoping to get it over with quickly, when I bumped into something hard.

A soft sigh escaped me and my head shot up.

Overwhelmed by the fine and sharp details of his face, which balanced each other out and gave him his masculinity, my hands clawed into the soft fabric in front of me – or rather, into Professor Tiberius' shirt – and I felt his tense chest muscles.

A rare warmth spread to my fingertips and awakened memories of my first time... with him.

Shocked, I pulled my hands back.

Professor Tiberius stared at me with a strained expression.

“I'm sorry, Professor...” I faltered. “Quen...” I bit my tongue.

How should I address him by his title when he had insisted on Quentin on the evening of the winter ball? And how could I ever get used to Quentin? Especially when David was around. The offer had been for the work together, but not for the internship, right?

Quentin's jaw began to work hard and I knew I had upset him. He hated it when I called him Professor. And something inside me wanted it to stay that way, wanted him to hate me, because... what else could he do?

“It's okay,” he forced out without breaking eye contact. “You should put your clothes on first.”

Put my clothes on?

Confused, I stared at him, remembering how he had watched me as I had adjusted my clothes after our first time, how he had scanned every visible spot in the darkness of his car.

His right eyebrow twitched slightly and the tingling sensation returned.

God, Julie. He's looking at you like he wants to strangle you, and you're standing there like an idiot thinking about sex.

Even the thought of him putting his hand around my throat again sent a violent shiver down the insides of my thighs.

You're sick. He's your professor. You're enemies. He's a stranger and he hates you. This is a really unfortunate coincidence and you should never have met up with someone anonymous...

“Protective clothing.”

I pressed my lips together and struggled not to break the eye contact that made my heartbeat accelerate with every passing second.

But he did, looked away, down... at my hands.

I hastily pulled them completely away from his chest and took a step back. And it took all my willpower to take the lab coat from his hand, turn around, and walk through the lab more or less steadily without crashing into one of the experiment tables in a complete daze.

Heat rushed through me, and I watched as tiny ice crystals formed on my fingertips.