Chapter 190: Completely Unfair

PRIYA’S POV

Adrian slid the glass terrace doors shut and turned the brass latch, sealing out the snowy harbor wind.

The warm air of the suite wrapped around us instantly.

The low flames of the gas fireplace flickered against the dark hardwood floors, casting long shadows across the living area.

Soft acoustic music was playing quietly from the speaker on the sideboard, filling the quiet suite with an easy, slow rhythm.

I kicked off my strappy heels near the door, sighing with relief as my bare feet sank into the plush wool rug. "My feet were about thirty seconds away from going numb," I admitted, rubbing the back of my ankle.

Adrian chuckled softly. He walked over to the wet bar, poured two glasses of ice water, and handed one to me.

"You’re the one who chose style over comfort, Miss Patel," he pointed out, watching me over the rim of his glass.

"Please. If I wore snow boots with an emerald silk dress, you would have sent me back to campus on the next shuttle."

"I would have admired your practical judgment," he countered, setting his empty glass down on the counter. "Though I definitely wouldn’t have looked at your legs as much."

I laughed, taking a slow sip of the cold water before setting my glass down beside his. "Honest, at least."

The second my hands were free, Adrian stepped in and pulled me flush against him.

"You have no idea how hard it was to sit across that table and behave myself," he murmured in a low and raspy voice.

"Behave yourself?" I teased, resting my hands against the front of his shirt. "You practically undressed me with your eyes during the main course."

"That was me practicing restraint," he said.

His fingers reached behind my neck, finding the silk ties of my emerald dress. He moved with slow, agonizing deliberation, his warm knuckles lightly brushing against the bare skin of my spine.

The fabric loosened with a quiet rustle.

The emerald dress slid down my shoulders, past my hips, and pooled in a soft pile around my ankles on the rug.

Adrian took a sharp breath, his gaze sweeping over me in just my black lace lingerie.

"Priya," he whispered, shaking his head. "You are completely unfair."

"You don’t hear me complaining, Professor," I said softly, reaching up to work on the buttons of his white dress shirt.

I unfastened them one by one, pushing the crisp cotton off his shoulders and tossing it onto the armchair.

He was in ridiculous shape... broad shoulders, lean chest, and a tight torso that radiated pure heat.

I flattened my palms against his chest, feeling his pulse hammering just as fast as mine.

Adrian reached down, caught me behind the knees, and lifted me effortlessly into his arms.

I gasped, wrapping my arms around his neck as he carried me the few steps to the massive king-sized bed.

He set me down gently in the middle of the white duvet and climbed over me, settling between my knees.

He didn’t rush.

He leaned down and kissed me, deep and slow, his hands tangling in my hair while his thumbs stroked the line of my jaw.

It was totally different from the frantic, stolen kisses in his campus office.

There was no ticking clock here. No fear of someone knocking on the door with an administrative memo or an ethics violation.

It was just him and me, warm and unhurried.

His mouth moved down from my lips to the curve of my throat, tasting the perfume at my pulse point.

A quiet shiver rolled through my body as his hands slid down my sides, tracing the curve of my waist and the swell of my hips.

"Still think this was a bad idea, Miss Patel?" he whispered against my collarbone.

"Terrible idea," I breathed, arching into his touch as his fingers slid beneath the lace of my panties. "The worst idea I’ve ever had."

"Good," Adrian muttered, his voice thick with desire. "I like bad ideas."

He kissed his way down my stomach, making my breath hitch as his fingers unhooked the clasp of my bra, tossing it over the edge of the bed. Every touch of his hands sent waves of heat straight to my core.

I tangled my fingers in his dark hair, pulling him back up to my mouth, desperate for the taste of him.

His solid body pressed down against mine in a demanding way, and the room seemed to shrink until there was nothing left in the world except the heat between us.

He reached down to unbuckle his belt, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that took all the air out of my chest.

And then, a sharp, upbeat chime shattered the silence.

Buh-dum-dum-dum...

It was a phone ringing.

Adrian froze for a second, his forehead resting against mine, letting out a frustrated groan. "Ignore it," he muttered against my lips.

"Yeah," I agreed breathlessly, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck. "Ignore it."

He went back to kissing me, his mouth hungry and distracting, his hand sliding up my inner thigh to make me forget everything else.

Across the room, the chime rang through its full cycle on the bedside table.

After five long rings, it finally cut off.

Silence returned to the room.

We both let out a small breath against each other’s lips, laughing quietly at the close call.

Adrian kissed my cheek, moving back down toward my jaw, his hands finding their rhythm again.

Then, not even five seconds later, the exact same chime started up again.

Buh-dum-dum-dum... Buh-dum-dum-dum...

It sounded louder this time, the phone vibrating violently against the polished wood of the nightstand.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Adrian growled into my neck.

"It’s a FaceTime call," I said in a tight voice as panic began to tickle the back of my mind. "Nobody FaceTimes twice in a row unless it’s an emergency."

"It’s Thanksgiving, Priya. It’s probably spam."

"Spam doesn’t use FaceTime," I argued, gently pushing at his broad shoulders. "Let me just silence it so it doesn’t keep buzzing."

Adrian sighed, reluctantly rolling onto his side to give me room.

I scrambled across the duvet on my hands and knees, reaching over the edge of the bed toward the nightstand.

I grabbed my phone, intending to hit the volume button and flip it face-down.

I tapped the screen, and the bright display illuminated my face in the dim room. The incoming caller ID was flashing in bold white letters right across the glass:

Nora Bennett (FaceTime)

The blood drained out of my face in an instant; my stomach dropped straight to the floor, and all the heat in my veins turned into ice.

"Oh my god."

Nora.

Calling from Oakhaven.

Expecting to see me rotting on the futon in Room 304 in my gray sweatpants with a bowl of stale popcorn.

I sat frozen on the edge of the bed, holding the vibrating phone in a death grip with wide eyes.

"Who is it?" Adrian asked from behind me.

I turned my head toward him, my chest seizing in pure horror. "It’s Nora," I choked out.