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“You failed your test, Chelsea,” she spat. “I am so disappointed in you. Then again, I suspected you were conventional at heart.”
A nasty jolt shook Chelsea to the core. So it hadn’t just been Jonathan watching her from the two-way mirror, Professor Deveaux had been watching as well. A cold feeling of betrayal spread through her body. What the hell was going on here?
Chelsea forced herself to meet Professor Deveaux’s brown eyes. Anger and malice simmered in her gaze—but so did satisfaction. She wasn’t disappointed in Chelsea at all, on the contrary, she was pleased. She had intended her to fail this last test. Professor Deveaux clearly had a devious agenda that did not match up with what she was telling Chelsea. But why?
Chelsea suspected it had something to do with her Muse. But she would never find out if she walked out of this hotel room right now.
“I—I wasn’t expecting…” Chelsea’s temples pounded as she tried to think of a way to salvage this situation. She had to make nice with the Professor if she wanted to attend that Valentine’s Ball in a few nights. But there was no way in hell she was going to have sex with Jonathan Danvers—favorite writer or not.
Professor’s eyebrows arched. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry.” It galled Chelsea to apologize to this treacherous bitch, but she had to. “It’s just seeing someone so famous, my favorite author no less, I just got so nervous…”
The Professor ran her eyes up and down her body. They gleamed with a predatory interest that made Chelsea very aware of the skimpy blou
se and miniskirt barely covering her body.
“Erotics Anonymous is not for the faint of heart, Chelsea. You must prove that you are bold, adventurous, free from conventional moral restraints.”
“I am,” she insisted. She would say anything right now to get inside that Valentine’s Ball.
Professor Deveaux ran one long burgundy fingernail down Chelsea’s chest. She held her breath as Professor pushed open her blouse and coolly gazed at her bare breasts.
“You are beautiful,” she murmured, almost to herself. She turned away. “You can prove it this weekend,” she announced. “Your induction ceremony will be more…demanding than most. But if you are truly adventurous, that won’t be a problem, will it?”
Chelsea fervently shook her head even as her mind worked desperately. So that was why she had been set up to fail this test, so Professor would have an excuse to put her through a demanding initiation. Just the thought of it turned her stomach, but she knew she would have to be strong. If this was the only way she could see her Muse again, she would attend the Valentine’s Ball and find him.
Just then, Jonathan Danvers pushed past them, pulling on his pants. “I’ll be there,” he grinned, leering at her breasts. “Maybe by then you won’t be so nervous. Hey, I understand. You’ve probably never had a man like me before.”
Chelsea pulled her blouse together, swallowed her disgust, and nodded. “I appreciate the second chance, Professor.”
The limo was not waiting outside the hotel for her this time. Instead she changed back into her school clothes in the lobby restroom and went outside to hail a taxi. During the ride back to the dorm, her mind raced. How could she have been such a fool? Of course her Muse wasn’t Jonathan Danvers. His body was so taut and athletic, unblemished by time. That luxuriously thick chestnut hair was the mane of a young man. He probably wasn’t much older than her.
She knew that the Society’s Valentine’s Ball would hold many unpleasant surprises. Today’s encounter with Jonathan was probably just the tip of the iceberg. No doubt Professor Deveaux would devise some truly perverse tests for her induction ceremony. But it was her only chance at seeing her Muse again. She had to gamble with Fate and attend.
Chapter Seven
Valentine’s Night
Now, here she was at the Valentine’s Ball, kneeling before the lustful crowd as naked and vulnerable as a sacrifice. As she frantically searched the faces for a loving pair of dark eyes, it occurred to her that perhaps she had been wrong about her Muse’s feelings for her. She had been fooled by Professor Deveaux’s silky words, maybe she had been fooled by his apparent tenderness as well. What, really, did she have to go on? The loving emotion in his eyes? The trembling of his fingers when he touched her for the first time?
She swallowed nervously.
A hand behind her gathered up her long blonde hair. “Rise,” said Professor Deveaux.
Chelsea had no choice but to stand along with her painfully lifted hair. Professor Deveaux’s eyes ran greedily down her body. “You’re going to make everyone very happy tonight,” she purred.
“Ev-everyone?” That couldn’t mean what she thought it did. There were dozens of people, all genders and all ages, in this room.
“Why, yes, ma chère, you are luscious to behold.” Professor Deveaux cupped Chelsea’s breasts, then burst into laughter at the expression on her face. “But as for true happiness…that will be restricted to the winner of our Valentine’s lottery.”
Good God. Lottery? This was getting more sordid by the second. How had she ever let herself be duped by these people? She was the most naïve person on earth, a dumb, gullible college girl so blinded by her infatuation for her favorite author—who turned out to be a vulgar schmuck—that she had walked right into the lion’s mouth. Standing there naked, she knew she hadn’t been selected for the Society as a gifted young writer. She had been selected as a young, blonde piece of ass whose desire to be published made her an easy mark.
She blinked back tears. Professor Deveaux had outsmarted her, her Muse probably wasn’t even here tonight. And now she had humiliated herself for nothing.
Her professor was looking her over as if she intended to win the auction herself. “I predict you will fetch a good price… Very nice to pass your initiation test while earning so much money for the Society, yes?” A malicious smile glittered from her eyes as she said, “I know you cannot pay your dues, dear. So you will pay them comme ça.”
“You never mentioned any dues,” Chelsea growled in a low voice.
