The Protege Read online

  The Protege

  Kailin Gow

  The Protege

  Published by Kailin Gow

  Copyright © 2013 Kailin Gow

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  For information, please contact:

  Kailingowbooks(at)aol(dot)com.

  First Edition.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  ISBN: 978-1-59748-077-2

  DEDICATION

  This dedication to my husband whose love makes all things possible.

  This book series is also dedicated to all the women and children of domestic abuse and violence. Hope this series will bring some comfort and hope to you or someone you know in some way.

  Prologue

  The small but elegantly furnished luxury apartment was neat and tidy except for Serena’s bedroom. Three skirts lay on her bed; the red one too frilly, the black one too short, and white one too summery. Atop them lay a variety of shirts and blouses including a few that were simply too revealing, one that was too festive and another that looked too frumpy on her.

  In front of the open closet were shoes and sandals of every color. One after the other Serena had discarded them. Her dressing table was strewn with brushes, combs, hairpins and bottles of hairspray and mousse. For all the time she’d spent in front of the mirror debating how to set her hair, she’d finally pulled her long thick dark hair back into a prim and proper chignon. As for make-up, she’d decided that minimalism was the way to go; a swipe of mascara and a touch of pale lipstick. Nothing gaudy, nothing showy, nothing to show the professor but her intelligent brown eyes and eager expression.

  “Hopefully that’ll impress him,” she’d muttered as she’d left the mirror to dress.

  Today was too important to screw up. More than anything Serena wanted to look right and impress her potential adviser. Although recently transferred, this was her senior year in her undergraduate studies, and she needed a graduate adviser. She already had the necessary credits to start graduate level courses. If her meeting went well, she’d transition into her graduate studies early, keep the same adviser and finish her studies a year in advance.

  Peering into her closet she made a last ditch attempt to find something suitable. Her hand came to rest on a calf length navy blue pencil skirt.

  Very professional, she thought. Very academic. Very studious and serious. Yes. This will do.

  She pulled the snug, but not too tight skirt on and pulled the zipper up. The effect was exactly what she was looking for. All that remained was finding the perfect button down shirt to go with it; and she knew exactly which one she needed. She pushed all the hangers to one end of the closet and found a perfectly crisp and immaculately white shirt.

  “Who could possibly turn me down now?” she asked of her reflection once she’d buttoned the shirt up and tucked it into her skirt. She looked every bit like an ideal graduate student…academic, smart, and serious about her studies.

  Pleased with herself, she hopped into her slightly tight, conservative two-inch black pumps, grabbed her handbag and headed out to the apartment building’s parking lot. Her small black Mini Cooper was parked clear across the lot, but Serena enjoyed the few moments of brisk, cool autumn air, despite the tight squeeze of her toes.

  Her stride restricted by the narrow skirt, she took small, dainty steps to the car, but when she opened the car door, she paused before getting in. How was she going to maneuver into the low car when she had so little freedom of movement? Remembering pictures she’d once seen of Princess Diana when she was very little at her grandmother’s, getting elegantly into a car, she turned her back to the driver seat and sat down, then swiveled around to face the steering wheel.

  “Here’s to trying to be a true lady,” she said with pride as she tossed her handbag onto the passenger seat.

  Feeling excited and anxious, she drove the familiar route to the campus. For three years she’d lived in this apartment. For three years, she driven down Harbor Boulevard, turned onto the San Diego Freeway and maneuvered her car through traffic until Jamboree Road; though when traffic was too heavy, she’d take MacArthur Boulevard instead.

  Today Jamboree Road would do. Traffic was only marginally heavy, but mostly fluid and she arrived at the campus with more than enough time to spare. Smiling and pleased with herself, she pulled into the parking lot only to find that it was jam packed with cars. Though she circled and circled, every parking space was filled. Finally, at the far end of the lot, she spotted a woman walking to her car. Serena hurried to follow her, hoping the woman would vacate a space.

  As Serena pulled up beside her, the woman looked at her with a displeased expression.

  “Excuse me,” Serena called out as she hurried to roll down her window. “Are you leaving the lot? There isn’t a vacant space in the whole place.”

  Pursing her lips, the woman nodded, but seemed in no hurry to get to her car.

  Serena bit her lip and resisted the urge to beg the woman to walk a little faster.

  After a torturous minute, the woman arrived at her car, started the engine and slowly pulled out. Having lost enough time, Serena pulled into the space and hurried out of the car only to hear a slight tearing sound in the process. She gritted her teeth. Of all the days…

  She looked down at her skirt for any sign of damage, reassured herself that everything looked fine and walked as quickly as the narrow skirt would allow. With the administrators building looming in the distance, she suddenly regretted her wardrobe choice. An A-line skirt would have allowed easier movement.

  The clip clop of her heels indicated she was walking fast enough, but still the building remained discouragingly far. Hoping no one would notice her, she jacked up her skirt to her thighs and took long strides that quickly had her at the door.

  Her feet ached and her back was moist with sweat, but she’d made it. Taking a quick second to cool her brow, she gazed at her reflection in the window. Her neatly tucked in blouse now looked like she’d slept in it and wild tendrils of hair had escaped her meticulously pinned chignon. “Damn it,” she groaned as she licked her fingers and tried to tame the locks back toward the chignon.

  Muttering her displeasure at the parking lot situation, she hurried to the adviser’s door on the second floor.

  She knocked firmly on the door; too firmly, she realized. He’ll think she was being belligerent.

  “Come in.” His voice was at once commanding and authoritative, while having a strangely husky and sexy undertone. It ran over her entire body like a soft and sensual touch, making her want to stand at attention and let whoever owned that voice to do whatever he wanted with her.

  The image of a young professor, with thick and short cropped, dark locks, piercing grey eyes and a body built for seduction immediately came to her mind, but she quickly shook it off as she opened the door.

  However, the stunningly attractive man behind the oversized mahogany desk did not disappoint. As she’d imagined, his hair was dark, almost black, but it fell to his shoulders. His eyes were blue, bright and intelligent, fringed with dark lashes that heightened the intensity in his eyes, disarmingly direct and beautiful as though he could see deep into her. His lips were naturally full and pouty, sensual and sexy, the kind of lips you want to kiss and suck on all day. Confident, almost arrogant, he seemed completely at home in the office that was rich with cherry oak bookshelves and an expensive looking oriental rug.

  The tiffany lamp on his desk offered a warm amber
glow that offset his cool blue glare, slightly angry and annoyed.

  “You must be Miss Serena Singleton.” Her name was said with an unfamiliar but sexy accent, which again made her want him to put his hands on her, to touch her…intimately.

  “Yes,” Serena said as she took a step toward the chair facing his desk. He’d not yet invited her to sit down, so she waited beside the chair.

  Her gaze met his. He appeared to be six or eight years older than she was; in his late twenties or early thirties, she estimated. Impeccably dressed in a stylish suit, silk embossed grey tie, and elegant black John Lobb loafers. Even behind the European-cut black suit that was made of expensive material that flowed gently down his tall lean frame, she could tell he was in top physical shape with broad shoulders, muscular arms and a ripple, hard torso. Not at all typical of a professor. His rock star thick lips, pressed into a tight line of discontent, still showed their potential for being soft and sensuous. Serena’s eyes, too embarrassed to look at him in the eye, was riveted to his lips, which looked more and more enticing as she imagined what he could do with them against her skin.

  “Have a seat,” he said with a curt nod to the chair.

  Setting her handbag on the floor, she sat and placed her hands primly on her lap.

  “I take it you’re looking for an adviser.” He opened the folder on his desk and perused the documents.

  “Yes. Exactly. I’m finishing my…”

  “How are your grades?” He held a sheet of paper up to examine it.

  Caught off guard by the blunt question, she hesitated. “Um, good. I mean great. My average is…”

  “And I assume you’d like to graduate next year.” With finality, he set the documents back into the folder and shut it.

  “Um, yes. That’s true. I’ve been here three years and…”

  “Well,” he said as he put his hands on top of his desk and stood. “Unfortunately that’s all the time we have.”

  “What? But I just got here. We haven’t even discussed…”

  “Rules are rules.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Miss Singleton. I don’t know how you’ve managed to get by these past years – perhaps you’ve been lucky enough to have rather tolerant and indulgent professors – but I do not appreciate tardiness. You were not a mere five minutes or even ten minutes late, Miss Singleton. You, with all your high aspirations of graduating a year early, arrived at my office a full twenty minutes late.”

  “But I arrived at the school on time. I left home early and…it’s only when I got here that I couldn’t find parking. The student parking lot where I usually park is never this full and I didn’t expect the administrator’s lot… I had to drive around a dozen times before I finally spotted someone… and I’m wearing these tight shoes and the heels… and my skirt…”

  “I have no desire to hear your excuses, Miss Singleton, though you appear to have many. What I do have, however, is another student who is about to knock on that door… any moment now.”

  “No.” Horrified, she stood up to look straight at him. “I need you. I have to have an advisor, or else I’ll…”

  “You should have thought of that earlier, Miss Singleton.”

  “You can’t shoot me down because I underestimated how cramped your little parking lot would be.”

  “Insults will get you nowhere, Miss Singleton.”

  “Please.” With tears in her eyes, she reached down for her handbag, set it on the chair and pulled out a tissue. “I have to have an advisor. Please Professor, um. Shoot, I know your name, but I can’t even think, you got me so flustered…” She knocked over her bag, spilling the content onto the floor.

  “I’m sorry…I…” she bent down to pick up some of her content…a hairbrush, a pack of chewing gum, a pen, and… She gulped. A pack of edible underwear still in its packaging.

  Serena turned a bright red as she realized what that was doing in her bag. It must have been in the nice designer handbag she borrowed from her best friend Laura, for this meeting. Laura was pretty adventurous and proud to let everyone know about it. Hopefully this professor didn’t see it.

  She looked up into his intense blue eyes, whose disdainful expression hadn’t changed from before. Thank goodness he didn’t see that. What must he think of her as a potential student, if she was caught with those on her. She quickly put all the spilled content out back into her bag, while she got up off her knees, trying to avoid looking clumsy while his blue eyes swept over her body from head to toe, lingering a while on her face and breast. “I’m so sorry, Professor Williamson. I’m not usually this flustered or clumsy. I’m…”

  He shot her a derisive snort. “Sorensen. Sebastian Sorensen.”

  “Professor Sorensen, please don’t be so casual about my future. I’m an above average student and any one of my professors can attest…”

  “Miss Singleton. I am not merely throwing you out of my office on principle. I do have other students to see, you understand, and…” He looked at his watch. “The next student, if they dare arrive on time, should be here in ninety seconds.”

  “Then, please reschedule me. I’ll be here an hour early. I’ll do whatever you want. Please, Professor, this is far too important to me. I can’t just let go because of something as trivial as a few minutes of tardiness.”

  “I’m sorry, but the trivial matter of your tardiness is not my problem.”

  “Professor, I’m begging. I’ll do anything. I’ll clean your office, get your dry cleaning, walk your dog, help grade papers. Truly, I’ll do anything to make up for offending you.”

  He sat back down and eyed her over his clasped hands. “I admit, I’m overloaded. I have more work than I can handle, but I can’t receive any…”

  “But it wouldn’t be a bribe. I’d be working for you, just as if you’d hired me.”

  With a keen glint in his fair blue eyes, he scrutinized her, from the tightly pulled dark hair that retreated into her chignon, to the parting of her lips, to her primly covered but full breasts and down to tiny waist, slim hips, and her long shapely legs and leather clad feet.

  “I don’t know,” he mused. “You're rather thin.”

  “Thin?” She looked down at herself. She’d always considered herself healthy and athletic, not thin. Besides, what did that have to do with anything?

  “Maybe a little too thin.”

  “No,” she said adamantly. “I’m not some frail damsel. I’m strong and capable, capable of whatever you have to throw at me.”

  “The thing is…” He eyed her intently. “If anything, I might need your help at my house, but…”

  “I can cook. I can clean. I even do windows.”

  Amused, he chuckled. “You really do want an adviser.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Showing more interest in her, he stood and came around the desk to stand before her. His gaze was steady and curious as he reached out to gently wrap his fingers around her forearm. “Very petite. Thin…”

  “I prefer the word, ‘slender’,” Serena said quickly. “What exactly do you have in mind? What am I so petite for?” Though intrigued by him, she feared he could very well ask something of her that she could not do.

  Releasing her arm, he walked around her, trailing his long but strong finger across her shoulder, sending a bolt of desire through her. “You’re not too bad, though not quite the cool beauty Willow is.”

  “Willow?” Serena said, trying to hide the sting of his comment.

  He waved her comment away. “All right, Miss Singleton, this is the situation. I have a family gathering I must attend. I also have an invitation to bring along a guest. I would like to avoid Willow and her gold-digging mother. I think if I had a young woman on my arm, a date, as it were, I could more easily avoid contact with them. At the very least, it would diminish their very ardent attempts at getting my attention.”

  Frowning, Serena stared straight ahead. This wasn’t quite the deal she’d bargained for. “You want me to be
your date?”

  “What’s the matter?” he said with an amused chuckle. “Is the notion that unappealing?”

  She pulled her shoulders back and regained her composure. “No, not at all. I’m just a little surprised.”

  A gentle knock sounded at the door and the professor glanced at Serena then the doorknob. “What will it be?”

  “If I accept, we will talk about my adviser situation, right?”

  “Consider it done.”

  Serena shot a sidelong glance at the door as a firmer knock sounded.

  “Yes,” Professor Sorensen called out. “I’ll be right with you.” He looked expectantly at Serena, his blue eyes assessing her.

  “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  “Good. Meet me here in an hour… sharp, and we’ll discuss a few details. We need to get a little acquainted before I introduce you to everyone.”

  “Yes, sir. Right. Of course, Professer Sorensen. Yes, thank you. You have no idea how…”

  “I must meet with my next student,” he said with a patient and tolerant tone.

  “Yes, right. Absolutely.” She fumbled to get her handbag and sling it over her shoulder then reached out to shake his hand.

  He simply grinned and guided her to the door. “In an hour sharp.”

  Chapter 1

  Sitting at her beat up, old upright Ludwig, Serena plunked her finger absentmindedly down the same key over and over again; middle C. Her eyes glued to the living room window that overlooked the boulevard below, she viewed and reviewed the past few hours. The afternoon had taken a turn she’d not anticipated and the decision she now faced left her puzzled and confused.

  She’d already been accepted in the graduate music composition program she’d enrolled in. At least that was settled; one less thing to worry about. Now all that remained was finding the suitable adviser.

  Sebastian Oliver Sorensen. She’d heard a lot about the handsome and sexy professor, even met him shortly once before a long time ago. He was not so much a professor then, but more of a film composer. Still as sexy or even more so than before. The entire female student body spoke of his piercing blue eyes and sultry smooth voice that can convince any woman to peel off their clothes for him. For all the talk she’d heard about him, she still hadn’t expected him to affect her as he had. She forgotten how he was so young to be as accomplished as he was, and talk of his blue eyes and voice didn’t even do him justice. She was sure that if he had been born in another time period, he would have been amongst the greats like Beethoven, Bach, and Mozart. Sebastian Sorensen was the modern equivalent of them. They were the rock stars of their times, and Sebastian was a rock star composer in modern times. Just as sexy as one, too. Serena could feel her face flush and nipples harden just thinking of Professor Sorensen’s voice and presence.