Page 1 of Scandalous Contract

CHAPTER ONE

STEFANIE

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IT WAS HOTTER THANSatan’s ass out here!

The sun was treating me like I owed it money, blazing against my skin and making me uncomfortable in my clothing. I sighed, adjusting the strap of my purse as I scrolled through my phone, trying and failing to make sense of the directions my daughter, India, had texted me earlier.

INDIA: Take the south entrance, follow the pathway near the main library, then cross past the student center... I think.

I think.That last part was why I was currently wandering aimlessly across a college campus, heels clicking against the pavement, sweat gathering at the nape of my neck, dress sweaty and sticking to my skin. I swear that child of mine was going to drive me insane.

Students bustled around me, dragging suitcases and laundry baskets, shoving duffle bags into waiting cars, hugging friends goodbye before spring break pulled them apart for a week. Some of them were even crying as if they wouldn’t see each other again soon.

I was surrounded by youthful energy:fast, loud, careless. And then there was me. Overdressed for the temperature and wearing shoes that were more for show than walking. I stuck out like a sore thumb.

My black blazer felt too stiff, my dress too confining, my heels a poor choice for the amount of walking I was doing. I should’ve worn sneakers. In my defense, I hadn’t planned to do this much walking.

I’d only planned to be out of the comfort of my car and its AC long enough to help my daughter load her bags in my trunk. However, there were so many parents on campus picking up their children that I thought it would be easier to park, then walk, and help India pull her suitcases rather than navigate down the crowded campus streets.

I was wrong. And so were the directions my daughter had given me when I texted her and told her I was parking and would be walking to her dorm to pick her up. But it wasn’t even the heat or the discomfort that bothered me the most.

It was the growing realization that I was, in fact, lost. To make things worse, I didn’t even remember where I’d parked. I was just as bad with directions as my India. Frustrated, I stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk.

I swiped at the moisture beading at my temple. Maybe I should just call India and have her come meet me. First, I needed to figure out where I was. I started looking around, searching for the names of any of the buildings I was surrounded by.

There’s one!Let’s see if my child knew how to get to this building.The Sandwich Lab.It must be some type of sandwich shop. I was just about to dial her number when a deep voice sounded behind me, sending chills down my spine. My entire body stiffened.

“Excuse me, miss. Are you lost? Do you need me?”

The voice was deep, rich, and edged with a tenor that made my pulse react before my brain did. I frowned, surprised by my reaction and thankful I wasn’t facing the guy. Then the words he’d just uttered sank in.

Did he really just ask me if I needed him?

That was a strange way to ask if I needed directions. I swear, kids these days said the strangest things. Or maybe it was an innuendo.This little brat!Sighing, I schooled my face into a scowl before turning to face him.

I was expecting some overeager student trying to flirt with an older woman for sport. What I found instead was something far worse. This was a man. Not a boy. And a fine-ass man at that. My gaze swept over him before I could register what I was doing.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, and he stood with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me with a smirk on his face. His white button-down shirt clung to his frame in a way that suggested he worked out.

I didn’t have to see his stomach to know he had a six-pack. He wore black slacks and expensive shoes. His attire signaled that he was either coming from work or going to work. Maybe he worked here, at the college.

If so, the college paid their employees well. His clothing wasn’t from any store rack. They fit his form too well for that to be true. His attire was custom fit for his frame, and he wore them well. My gaze backtracked until I was staring into his face once more.

His face!Now, that was a dangerous place to stare. This man was the kind of handsome that didn’t just turn heads, it broke necks, leaving a trail of bad decisions in its wake. His dark hair was cropped close to the sides of his head but full on top.

I’m pretty sure there was a name for the style, but I was going to call it playboy chic. His neatly trimmed goatee only made his chiseled jawline more defined, drawing attention to the slight smirk curving his lips.

Those lips.It should be a sin for any man to have lips as sexy as those. A heat wave crept over me that had nothing to do with the sun. His smirk widened. I blinked.Damn it!I was staring. No, I wasgawkingat this man.

He may not be a college kid, but he was still much too young for me to be standing on my daughter’s college campus, gawking at. My gaze jerked to my phone like I had something important to do on it.Wait. I did. I needed to call India.

“You must not have heard me,” Mr. Sexy Lips spoke again. “I asked if you needed me?”

There he was again, framing the question all wrong. Raising my head, I met his gaze, piercing him with a stern glare that let him know I wasn’t game for whatever he was trying to do.

“Are you trying to ask if I need directions, young man?” I asked, giving him my best,‘Child, go somewhere and sit down,’look.