Finding My Prince Charming (Page 26)

Finding My Prince Charming (Finding My Prince Charming #1)(26)
Author: J.S. Cooper

“You’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” I muttered as he stepped towards me, and he paused at my words and laughed.

“I’m a wolf?” He looked at me and ran a finger down my cheek. “Why do you say that, Lola?”

“Because you’re crazy. I come here this morning and you’re sweet as can be, and now you’re trying to get into my pants. And I’ve only been here for a few minutes.”

“I wanted to make sure when I greeted you that you were comfortable. Once I saw you were comfortable, I decided to get everything out in the open.”

“Get what out into the open, Professor?”

His eyes narrowed at my words, and he stepped back. I watched as he slowly did his shirt up and he gave me a short smile. “As you wish. I will not bring it up again.”

“I’m not a prostitute, you know,” I muttered, slightly disappointed that he had retreated so quickly.

“Of course I know that.” He walked back to his desk and sat down. “You’re just a young girl sowing her oats.”

“I’m not sowing any oats.”

“You’re in the habit of one-night stands?”

“It’s not like that,” I mumbled under my breath. “It is what it is. I made a decision. We had sex. Neither of us complained. Let’s just move on.” It doesn’t matter that I think about you every night.

“You didn’t look like you had moved on in class yesterday.”

“Narcissus,” I said quietly.

“What?” He frowned and looked slightly off-kilter at my change of topic.

“Narcissus,” I said again. “It’s a painting by Caravaggio, done in 1597. It illustrates the Greek myth of Narcissus.”

“What’s the myth?” His eyes stared into mine with a challenge.

“Narcissus was a man who fell in love with his own reflection in a pool of water.” I paused and gave him a pointed look. “I think it’s a fitting painting for a narcissist.”

“Is that your favorite painting?”

“No. No, it’s not. But I wouldn’t be surprised if it was yours.”

“I see.” He gave me a wide smile and chuckled. “I suppose you bring up this painting to tell me that I am the only one who has been dwelling on our night together. Because I’m the best lover you’ve ever had.”

“Yes, you are dwelling on it,” I mumbled as my face flushed. “And you’re not the best lover I’ve ever had.”

“I don’t believe you. You cannot have forgotten how you cried out my name as our bodies exploded in passion together.”

“It’s like I said, Xavier, you’re a narcissist.”

“Max will be here in a few hours. Perhaps you would like to spend some quality time with him instead?” He sat back angrily.

“Who?”

“Tell me you haven’t forgotten the man you seduced at the museum already.”

“Oh, Max.” I sighed. “I didn’t seduce him at all. You know he was trying to hook up with Anna. Why do you keep trying to make it seem like I was the one who was going to hook up with him?”

“It took little for him to convince you to go back to the room. Just a few drinks, I believe.”

“Whatever, ass**le.” I shook my head. “I’m not going to talk about this anymore. You know I only went to accompany Anna. I only had one drink that night.”

“Fine. What painting have you chosen to discuss in class today?”

“You’ll hear about it in class.”

“No, I’d like to hear now.”

“I’d rather discuss it in class.”

He changed the subject. “How are you finding London?”

I watched as he picked up a fountain pen and dipped it in an inkwell. I was surprised to see him with such an old-fashioned piece of writing equipment.

“It’s fine.”

“Everything you hoped it would be?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Is the Victoria and Albert Museum as you expected it?”

“Huh?” I looked at him in confusion. How did he know I’d been waiting my whole life to go there? For some reason, it had been a lifelong dream for me to peruse the exhibitions at the Victoria and Albert and the British Museums, but I’d never really told anyone that. Just Anna and my journal.

“You wrote about it in your application essay. You said it was a lifelong dream of yours to walk through the museums in Europe and that you were dying to see the Louvre, the Musée d’Orsay, the Victoria and Albert Museum, the—”

“Okay, okay. I remember,” I said, cutting him off. “I didn’t know you read the essays.”

“Of course. I read the essays of all the students who were interested in being my assistant.”

“But I thought I was the only one.” I frowned.

“So have you been?” He ignored my question and I shook my head. “Then we must go this afternoon.”

“We have class.”

“We shall go after class.”

“That’s okay. I can go by myself.”

“No, you cannot appreciate and delight in your first experience by yourself.” His words were soft, light, and lyrical. His words made me think of losing my virginity and not going to a museum.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I smiled at him weakly.

“No, we shall go together. I happen to know the curator. I can show you some paintings that you wouldn’t get to see if you went by yourself.”

“I don’t want to take up your time.”

“You won’t be. It will be my pleasure.” He gave me the same odd little bow that his brother had given me the other night. “Did you know that many of the royal families in Europe are connected through Queen Victoria?”

“No, I don’t really follow the Royal Family much. All I really know is that Prince William just got married and had a baby.”

“I thought Americans were obsessed with all things royal?”

“Not me.” I shrugged. “I have a life.”

“Touché, Lola. Touché.”

“Did you just learn that word or something? You’re really using it a lot.”

“Did I just learn it?” He cocked back his head and laughed. He laughed so hard that his eyes were wet as he looked at me with his crinkly smile. “I like you, Lola. I think we will be friends. Ah!” He held his hand up. “Do not tell me again that we cannot be friends. I think I’d like to prove you wrong.”