Read Online PleasuringtheProfessor by Angela Claire - Free Book Online Page B

could. She wanted to hear him say it, though, so she waited.
    He looked at her expectantly. “No guesses?”
    “Tell me,” she murmured.
    “Well, you unsentimental little Generation X-er, it’s the
sixth-month anniversary of the night we met.”
    He hadn’t had a drink in all that time as far as she could
tell and their relationship had gone well beyond the dinner and a movie that
she originally had said she wanted from him. But she had asked for no promises,
and he had offered none, so she didn’t suppose a sixth-month anniversary would
resonate with him.
    She was touched that it had.
    “And you brought me flowers or candy or something?” she
asked tentatively. “That’s so sweet.”
    “Something even better than that for a bona-fide English
PHD.” He whipped his surprise present out from behind him and held it up for
her to see.
    Smiling, she said, “The Atlantic? Gosh. Thank you, Liam.”
She only hoped it was the new issue and not the one she’d swiped from the
student center—fully intending to return it, of course, after she was done
reading and fanning. But either way, it was the thought that counted.
    He sank down next to her and handed it to her.
    “Oh, it’s the new issue. Great. I haven’t read that one.”
    He kissed her and said, “Better than that. It’s an advance
copy. It hasn’t even hit the stands yet.”
    “Really? Wow.”
    He chuckled. “I better be sure to ask you what you want for
all of our special occasions in the future. I can see that you’re absolutely
horrible at faking enthusiasm.”
    She laughed, wrapping her arms around him and climbing onto
his lap. “No, it is sweet. I mean it.”
    He reached to take the magazine from her hand and flipped it
open to a certain page. Then he held it out to her.
    It was a short story. The Snow Girl. When she read the
byline, tears almost came to her eyes. “You wrote a new story, Liam? That’s
wonderful.”
    She hugged him tight and he urged, “Read the first few
lines.”
    When she complied, she actually did cry. Wiping her eyes,
feeling silly, she said, “Oh my God, Liam.”
    “I wrote it about you, Clarie. About meeting you. About us.”
He flipped to the next page and handed it back to her. She absorbed that
byline, the whole piece, with awe. She stared back at him, not sure what to say.
    “I used to think that the first time a person sees their
work published—really published—it’s the greatest thing in the world,” he said.
“What you’ve shown me, Clarie, is that it’s not. That being with someone you
love is more important. Is better.”
    “Oh my God.” And she wasn’t saying that because the Atlantic
was publishing excerpts from her thesis on Liam alongside his new story. It was
because he said—or she thought he had said—that he loved her. “Oh my God,” she
repeated, and then kissed him, long and hard. “I love you too, Liam,” she
whispered when they finally broke apart.
    He grinned, pointing at her name in the magazine. “But being
published is still pretty cool.”
    She laughed. “Incredible.” Then a thought occurred to her.
“Oh, but Liam, they’re not just publishing it because you’re making them, are
they?”
    “See, that’s why I wanted to present it to you as a fait
accompli . But unfortunately, the lawyers got involved and I guess they
can’t push the print button unless they have your written permission to publish
it. So that’s why I had to tell you now. But in answer to your question,
absolutely not. Believe me, nobody makes a magazine like that do anything they
don’t want to do.”
    “Not even for a new Liam Conner story?”
    He kissed the tip of her nose. “There you go idealizing me
again. But, no. The truth is I went to Friedman and asked him to choose some
excerpts from your thesis to go as a companion to the story. We went to the
Atlantic together. If anything, he’s probably the one who convinced them.”
    “Well, he is the foremost authority on you.”
    “The