Chapter 7
“I expect you to grade everything on my behalf.” He looks down at her with dark, half-lidded eyes.
“I understand, Professor Hamilton.” Honor suppresses a shudder and crosses her legs to cover it. She hasn’t been able to look him in the eye, focusing on the Dean instead. How does Dean Kaplan not realize what a sleezeball this guy is? Does Hamilton have something on Kaplan?
“Jeffrey, please,” Hamilton corrects her with a chuckle. He’s trying too hard to be casual. Everything about him from the oily black ponytail to the too-tight denim jeans screams of desperation. He lumbers around the room, stacking papers as they talk. Dean Kaplan, prim and proper in her tailored business suit, appears interested in every creepy word out of the guy’s mouth.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable bein
