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Chapter Eight
King
"Kingston," Dean Hawkins says, rising halfway out of his seat to lean across the desk with his hand extended toward me. "It's good to see you."
"You as well," I murmur politely, shaking his hand. "How is your wife?"
His lined face breaks into a grin as he lowers himself back down into his chair. "Still running circles around all of us, grandbabies included." He chuckles, his dark eyes alight with affection. He's a family man, unabashedly in love with his wife of four decades. "Have a seat."
I take the proffered chair, getting comfortable. Hawkins isn't necessarily a friend, but he is someone I respect. He's been in education for longer than I've been alive. He's good at what he does. Degrees and awards litter his walls, hanging in testament to his longevity and regard. He can be a hard ass, but he's well-liked by staff and students alike.
"I have to confess; I was surprised when Susan told me you'd requested to see me this morning. I can count on one hand the times you've come to me with problems," he says, leaning back in his chair. He spears me with an inquisitive look, his expression somber. "Are you having issues with another student?"
I grimace at the reminder of the last time I came to him with an issue, a new student who thought leaving her panties in my desk would give me incentive to pass her. It didn't. She couldn't write, certainly not the erotic fiction she kept turning in.
There have been a handful of girls like her before, those who take my class, hoping to catch my eye. They usually give up hoping and drop my course halfway through the term. Until Caroline, I never even considered sleeping with a student, especially not one of the fresh-faced teenagers in my courses. Caroline is different for a million reasons...which is exactly why I'm here.
"I actually came to let you know that this semester will be my last."
Hawkins' dark eyes widen. "You're writing again?"
"A bit." I hesitate. He's one of the few people I trust, and I already know he isn't going to like what I have to say. But I won't lie to him. I won't lie about Caroline. "I met someone."
"Oh. Well, then." He smiles, seemingly pleased, if a bit surprised. He's heard the rumors that swirl about me not dating. "Perhaps congratulations of a different sort are in order?"
"Not yet. Maybe soon." God, I hope she's pregnant and wearing my ring soon. I won't hide the way I feel about her. Nor will I hide that she's mine. She deserves to be shown off, not hidden away. She deserves a man—a daddy—who makes her feel like the princess she is, not like a dirty secret.
"That's the other part of the reason I'm here," I say. My course was set before I ever set foot in this office today, but losing this man's regard isn't something I'm going to enjoy. "The woman in question is a student here. Not one of mine," I add when his face immediately falls into a stern mask of disapproval. "She's never been one of my students. However, her sister is.
"I realize that distinction doesn't matter much from an ethical standpoint, but I would rather you have the whole truth of the matter from me than to hear it from someone else." I have nothing to hide when it comes to her. I won't let anyone make what's between the two of us somehow less than it is. Claiming Caroline wasn't on my radar before the Masquerade Ball, but I've thought of nothing else since. Certainly not since I made her mine last night.
"I see," Hawkins says, leaning forward in his chair to plant his elbows on his desk. He steeples his index fingers together, staring at me over the top of them. "I won't pretend that I approve of your relationship with a student because I don't. But our non-fraternization policy applies to faculty member relationships with students in their respective departments. If you have no academic say over her, your relationship is technically permissible, though highly inadvisable."
"She's a science major. A senior."
The disapproving twist to his lips doesn't diminish. Nor does the disappointed gleam in his eyes. I didn't expect they would. I didn't come here for his approval or acceptance. I came to claim my girl. Caroline is my princess, my muse, my soul. It's my job as her daddy to ensure she's taken care of. If anyone has anything negative to say about our relationship, they can say it to me. She won't be treated poorly because of our relationship. I'll destroy anyone who thinks to try.
"I'm prepared to resign today, if that's what you would request of me."
He stares at me for a full minute, not speaking. And then, "You're willing to walk away from your career here for this girl?"
"Without hesitation."
"But that's not what you want," he guesses.
"She's worth whatever censure comes my way…but I would like to finish out this semester." I blow out a breath. "I have a few wrongs I'd like to make right before I go."
"And the sister? You think you can remain impartial?"
"I'm prepared to request a second opinion on her work," I say. "You should know, she's one of the most gifted students I've taught. I've written her a recommendation for the Braxton Prize."
His eyebrows climb toward his receding hairline. "That's high praise from you," he murmurs.
"The praise isn't unwarranted," I assure him, and then grimace. "To be quite frank, I've been tough on her. She rises to the challenge each time, but she may very well tell me to go to hell with my recommendation."
"You've never recommended a student for the Prize," he says, choosing his words carefully. "The fact that the first student you intend to recommend is the sister of the student you're dating could be problematic for you."
