Chapter 1: Office Hours After Dark I knew I was playing with fire the second I knocked on Professor Damien Cross’s office door at 8:47 p.m. The history building was mostly empty. Only a few grad students were still around on the lower floors, and the cleaning crew wouldn’t start until ten. I had stayed late on purpose, pretending to finish a paper in the library while I worked up the nerve. Damien Cross was thirty-eight, tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that always looked like he’d run his hands through it during lectures. He had a reputation for being strict, brilliant, and completely untouchable. Married to his work, they said. No one had ever seen him with anyone. I had been obsessed with him since the first day of his Renaissance History seminar. The door opened before I could knock again. He stood there in a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up, glasses still on, looking tired but unfairly handsome. “Miss Langford,” he said, voice low and rough from hours of
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