What the hell kind of professor is this, Axe thought as he loomed over the human waste of space with the hipster clothes, the full head of hair, and the come-hither-you-college-coed eyes.
Professors were supposed to be old, bushy-browed, tweed-wearing anachronisms, the kind of males where, even on a deserted island with the fate of the race in jeopardy, no female would ever look twice at them, much less consider procreating with them without a loaded gun to the head.
Oh, and then top off all the totally-not-old-and-elbow-padded with the fact that the miserable bastard had been staring at Elise like she was the single most gorgeous female on the planet?
Which, fine. Was true.
But still.
He needed to kill the bastard right here, right now—
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Elise said quickly. “This is my, ah, he’s my—”
“Bodyguard,” Axe snapped. “I’m here to keep punks away from her.”
And how’d you like a demonstration, you pencil-necked psychology- spouting whatever-the-fuck. How ’bout I break both your thighbones and use the splintered end of one of them to clean my teeth—after I rip your throat out with my canines—
“This is Axe,” Elise cut in as she shot him a glare. “He’s just here to make my father feel comfortable. I am well aware there are no real threats against me.”
“Well … ah …” Mr. Professor pulled at the collar of his shirt. “So, um, actually, there have been a number of shootings on college campuses in the last couple of years. I, ah, I can see how … um … that would be distressing to a father.…”
Distressing?
This guy actually used the word distressing.
Yeah, you want distressing, Axe thought, how about I hang you out a third-floor window from your cute little pair of Merrells until you scream like a soprano and your libido falls out of the top of your head—
“Axe,” Elise hissed as she jumped out of her chair. “Will you come with me?”
Grabbing him by the elbow, she smiled with determination at James Franco– lite. “Will you excuse us for a moment. We’ll be right back.”
Axe was more than happy to follow her, because he had a few things to say, too.
She frog-marched him back farther into the stacks and shoved him against a line-up of books on the American Revolution.
With a jab, she shoved her finger in his face. “Lose the attitude or you can leave.”
“Excuse me?” he ground out. “I’m not the one who’s dating a human. If you’d been up front with me in the first place about why you wanted to come here, I would have appreciated it. Especially after your holier-than-thou ‘honesty is all I want from you’ bullshit. Or, wait, maybe you’re like your cousin Peyton and believe commoners like me are so second class, there actually is no hypocrisy when you lie to us.”
“I am not dating Troy!”
“Troy. His name is Troy.”
“What’s wrong with that? It’s a perfectly nice name!”
“I’m not touching that one—”
“Don’t be an ass! And there is nothing going on between us!”
“Oh, come on. I saw the way he looked at you. And this …” He motioned around her face. “With the hair and the makeup? It’s all for him, isn’t it. You got yourself dolled up for your little boyfriend, didn’t you.”
“I did not! And he’s not my—”
“Where’s that honesty, sweetheart—”
“Okay, you did not just ‘sweetheart’ me—”
“What do you want me to call you, ‘Professor?’ ’Cuz that title’s already taken by Troy—”
“You were growling! You were standing over him and growling!”
Okay, that got through to him. And she was not finished. Leaning in so close that she was practically rock-climbing up his chest, she nailed him with that forefinger again.
“You were about two inches and one giant testosterone surge away from baring your fangs and killing him!”
“I was not!”
They were both screaming at each other—at stage-whisper volume. Which was ridiculous, but at least they were alone back here.
“Show me,” she spat.
“What?”
She grabbed his upper lip like he was a horse and cranked it up over his head. “See!” More with that damn finger. “Your canines are totally descended—and let me tell you, the last thing in the world I need is for my bodyguard to rip the throat out of the very reason I’m bothering to put up with his sorry ass! You back off or I will get someone else!”
Axe ripped his mouth out of her hold and jacked forward on his hips. “Don’t put your hands on me again.”
“I didn’t want to touch you in the first place—”
“Liar.”
She recoiled as if he’d cursed at her. But she recovered quick. “You’re jealous.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You didn’t like the way he was looking at me. Admit it. And if you try to deny that you want me, may I remind you of your ‘attraction working in our favor’ speech last night. You remember, you were sitting at the foot of my bed? You were quite articulate about it all.”
As she arched a superior, pure-as-the-driven-snow brow at him, Axe seriously wanted to shoot something. Maybe her. Maybe himself. Very definitely “Troy.” “You know, right now, I’m seriously reconsidering your cousin’s offer to pay me to stay away from you.”
Elise opened her mouth as if she were going to stay on her roll—but then clamped it closed as if the words he’d spoken had sunk in on a delay.
“Peyton did what?”
“He came to my house last night and told me I wasn’t allowed to take this job, and when I told him to fuck off, he said whatever your father is paying me he’ll double, triple, Powerball the salary.”
“Why would he do that?” she mumbled as if she couldn’t fathom any kind of “why.”
“Because people like me are only allowed to fix your house or your car or work in your garden.” Okay, now he was getting worked up again. “We don’t matter to people like you. We’re just another commodity to be bartered back and forth over—”
“That is absolutely not true!”
Before he could stop himself, Axe sneered, “Oh, really? Well, would you like to know how my father died in the raids? I’d be just goddamned thrilled to tell you, given that you’re all about the fucking talking. My father is dead because the aristocrats he was working for locked all of the staff and the carpenters out of the safe room. So when the slayers came, the riff-raff were all slaughtered, even though there was plenty of room for them. They pounded on the fucking door, begged to be allowed in, but your people let them die. That’s how my only family was killed. And that’s the exact same attitude that makes your fuck-twit of a cousin think he can buy me off and allows you to preach honesty while you’re blowing smoke up my ass about what you’re doing with your professor over there.”
There was a long, tense silence.
And then Elise cleared her throat. “I am sincerely sorry for your loss. That is an unbelievable tragedy.”
He laughed with a harsh curse. “Did your fancy psych degree give you those two sentences on a card to memorize during your Grief Seminar? Or was it your Placating the Lower Class survey course.”
Elise crossed her arms over her chest and just stared at him. And the longer she did, the more he felt like turning away from her and leaving.