Page 2 of Scandalous Contract

One of his dark eyebrows rose at my question. “Young man? I’m not a student here.”

“I gathered that from the way you’re dressed. But you’re still a young man to me. I’m almost forty.”

I expected him to be shocked by my big reveal. I expected him to look flustered, then apologize and walk away. Instead, he stepped closer, and I found myself taking a step back, gaze narrowing.

“You don’t look a day over twenty-one,” he murmured. “But I’m glad you’re not twenty-one. That would make you much too young for me.”

I ignored how good his compliment made me feel and asked, “How old are you, young man?”

“My name is Julian.”

I waited for him to add his age.

When he didn’t, I asked, “And your age?”

“First, say my name. You called me young man. My name is Julian.”

My fierce glare and my big reveal hadn’t dissuaded him at all. I swallowed, flustered by the intense look in his eyes. My fingers tightened around my purse strap, and I hated that I felt the urge to take another step back.

Clearing my throat, I said, “Julian...”

“Yes,” he whispered before I could get the rest of my words out.

It wasn’t the way he whisperedyes, all dark and husky, that made my panties wet. I swear it had nothing to do with him. It was the heat. It was hot. I was sweating. Vaginas sweated just like armpits sweated.

This was natural. Yup. Natural. And it had nothing to do with the tall, dark-eyed, and handsome man before me.Ugh!I needed to get away from this guy. But his smirk seemed to challenge me to hold my ground and finish my question.

Rolling my eyes, I sighed loudly and let my irritation show when I asked, “Julian, young man, how old are you?”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

Ten years younger than me. No, almost eleven. I let out a low chuckle. He may look like a big dog, but he was just a pup. Let me step away from this boy before people on this campus started gossiping about me being a cougar or something. Letting the conversation end there, I turned to walk away, but his words stopped me.

“It’s rude to end a conversation like that,” he muttered.

Me, rude? He was the one being rude. Had no one taught him to respect his elders? I really didn’t have time for this.

Staring over my shoulder, I told him, “I’m not trying to be rude. I’m just busy. Please excuse me, but I need to go find mydaughter, who is afreshmanhere.”

If my age hadn’t scared him away, this new bit of information surely would.

“Do you need help finding her?” he asked.

What was wrong with him? I was almost forty with a teenage daughter. What was this guy up to?

I frowned. “Look, I’ve been trying to be nice, but...”

“Who said I wanted you to be nice?” Julian cut in, head tilting slightly.

My breath hitched.

He grinned like he’d heard it. “Nice is boring. Predictable. I’d rather you be yourself.”

I opened my mouth and closed it. He’d really shocked me silent. A slow anger crept over me. Anger at myself for standing here talking to him for this long, entertaining his nonsense. He must’ve seen the shift in my gaze because he raised his hands and took a step back.

“Don’t curse me out,” he told me. “I’m just trying to help. You look lost. I wanted to help. That’s all.”

"I’m not lost," I muttered, shifting my purse higher on my shoulder.