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At the moment, however, her attention was focused on the text message that flashed across the screen.
“Kaden.” She reached out to grasp his shoulder and give him a small shake. “Kaden.”
“Yes, please,” he muttered, flopping over to wrap his arm around her waist.
She gave him another shake. “Wake up.”
Her sharp tone managed to penetrate the sleep fogging his mind, and with shocking speed, he was shoving himself to a sitting position to study her with a clear-eyed concern.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, for once it’s good news,” she assured him. “I sent an email to Professor Sanderson, asking if we could meet. She just sent a text that says she’ll be available at one this afternoon.”
“Where?”
“She has an office in her home.” Lia hit the address to plug it into her map app. “It’s only a few blocks from here.”
Kaden nodded. “Let her know we’ll be there.” He tossed aside the covers and slid off the bed. Then, lifting his hands over his head, he stretched, emphasizing the lean perfection of his body. Lia openly ogled his raw male beauty, her hands twitching with the desire to reach out and touch him. Easily sensing her awareness, he sent her a wicked smile. “Shower?”
She pulled the covers up to her chin. “You go first.”
He arched a brow. “We could save water if we shared.”
“No way. We’ll never get to talk to the professor,” she said, her stomach abruptly rumbling in protest. “Plus, I’m starving.”
Kaden laughed. “Rejected for a bowl of soup.”
Lia heaved a sigh at the memory of the delicious chicken and noodles, unreasonably happy they had some left over. “It’s really good soup.”
Kaden chuckled on his way into the attached bathroom and Lia felt a momentary pang of regret as he shut the door, but she resisted temptation. Instead, she headed for the spare bedroom to take a quick shower and change into clean clothes. Then, entering the kitchen, she warmed up the soup and sliced the last of the bread.
Less than an hour later, they were out of the condo and driving the short distance to Dr. Sanderson’s house, arriving exactly at one o’clock.
“This is it.” Kaden parked the Jeep next to the curb and they both studied the red-brick bungalow that was surrounded by neatly trimmed bushes that were laced with Christmas lights. On one side, a small brick building was attached to the house by a covered breezeway. Presumably, the professor’s office. Kaden reached out to squeeze her hand. “Ready?”
“I’m not sure,” Lia admitted, her mouth dry and her stomach churning with nerves. When she’d decided to reach out to the professor, she hadn’t considered how she was going to approach the woman. Or exactly what she hoped to learn. Now she felt incredibly awkward. “This is kind of a long shot,” she muttered.
Kaden shrugged. “It’s the only shot we have.”
“True.”
Squaring her shoulders, Lia grabbed her purse and pushed open her door. Climbing out, she grimaced at the frigid breeze that whipped through the quiet suburban street. Kaden was swiftly at her side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they walked up the driveway to the attached building. They sidestepped the plastic Santa Claus that waved toward the street and halted in front of the glass door.
Before they could knock, it was pulled open to reveal a woman in her early sixties. Lia’s lips twitched, silently acknowledging the woman looked exactly like a college professor should look. She had fading red hair that was pulled into a knot at the nape of her neck and a pale face that was more handsome than pretty. Her eyes were dark and snapped with a restless intelligence behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. She was reed thin and wore a red sweater and casual black slacks.
“Hello.” She smiled, holding out her hand. “You must be Lia Porter.”
“Yes.” Lia shook the offered hand. “And I assume you are Professor Sanderson?”
“Please, call me Mary.” The woman turned her attention to Kaden. “And of course I recognize you.” She stepped back. “Please come in.”
Lia entered the building, closely followed by Kaden. They paused to slip off their jackets and left them on the coatrack before following Mary into a large office. Glancing around, Lia felt a pang of envy. The room was at least twice the size of her own office, with built-in bookcases that reached halfway up the walls, leaving ample room for the towering windows that allowed the afternoon sunlight to spill across a Persian carpet.
“Can I get you anything?” the professor asked. “Coffee? Tea?”
“Nothing for me,” Lia said as Kaden shook his head.
“Have a seat.” Mary pointed toward the high-backed leather chairs that were arranged in front of the desk. Waiting until they were obediently settled, the older woman took her place behind the desk and studied them with a stern expression. Suddenly Lia felt like she was sitting in a principal’s office, waiting for her punishment. Was it deliberate? Or had the woman been a teacher for so long she instinctively took command of any encounter?
