By: Rachel van Dyken

His jaw was sharp, defined, shadowed like he’d forgotten to shave or maybe just possessed a crap load of testosterone meaning he had to shave every day.

I took a steadying breath as I finally lifted my gaze to his startling amber eyes. Brown hair curled around the nape of his neck, like a caress. He was dangerous perfection.

He smiled.

And my stomach clenched like I was going to be sick.

I hadn’t planned on him being this gorgeous in real life. Because in real life men had gaps in their teeth and weird body odor, at least in my experience, there were always a few flaws, which made them human.

So my only conclusion after taking in his perfect muscled six-foot frame was that Mr. Blazik was an alien… sent to torture the women of earth with his perfection.

I mean, what else would explain eyes so hypnotic that I wasn’t just physically drawn to him, but emotionally? Or skin so smooth it looked like it had just been waxed? Even the line of his damn jaw was perfect.

He was busy buttoning up his perfectly fitted red shirt, my eyes trained on his fingers. I hated to admit that I wondered what else he did with those hands. With a gulp, I suppressed a shiver and tried to regain my focus.

“You’re different than he described you.” Mr. Blazik tilted his head to the side. “More… mousy.” He made a disgusted face that made me want to kick him in the shin.

Ding ding ding! We have a winner! The great flaw has been discovered! He suffered from jackass syndrome. Pity, with that face… I sighed and clicked my pen again.

“I think it’s on.” He chuckled.

I contemplated stabbing him in the thigh, but offered a smile instead. “Do you always make a habit of dressing in front of grad students or is today my lucky day?”

He made a show of slowly licking his lips and sat, his knees touching mine. I quickly pulled away. “That depends. Do you often make a habit of disrespecting your elders before asking them for an interview?”

“You’re thirty-two, hardly my elder.” I said in a sweet voice. Great, now I was arguing with him. So far, the interview? Not going so hot.

“Unfair.” He folded his hands together and leaned in. “You know my birthday and I don’t know yours.”

“Yeah well, I’m not all over the Internet.” In fact, thanks to my father, my virtual thumbprint was nonexistent. I cleared my throat. “So, I just have a few questions about your research regarding the prostitution rings here in Bellevue and your findings.”

His face betrayed nothing, but his eyes? His eyes seemed to darken even more. He clenched his teeth and leaned back, creating much needed space between our bodies. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“To interview you.” I nodded slowly. “For my master’s thesis. Is that your way of making sure I know my place? Or are you really just curious?”

“You are your father’s daughter.” His lips curved into a delicious smile, “You resemble each other, not in looks, but definitely in attitude.” His gaze was unapologetic as he tilted his head and started raking his eyes from my feet up my legs until finally settling on my face. I clenched my legs together tightly and forced a smile.

“If you don’t mind, Mr. Blazik, I’d really like to get on with the interview, I know your time is precious.”

As was mine, I wanted to stress, but didn’t, just barely restraining myself and clenching my teeth to keep from giving him a much-needed verbal lashing.

“I blocked out my entire day.”

Did he want applause? “Right, well, I assure you I can be fast.”

His dark laugh had me shivering and wanting to lean forward all at once. Men that good looking shouldn’t be blessed with chuckles like that—a freaking sirens call that’s what it was.

“Amazing… You truly don’t know why you’re here, do you?”

How many times did I need to repeat myself and why was I getting the sudden impression that the guy was on some seriously hard drugs? I looked closer; didn’t pinpoint pupils mean he was high or something?

“I assure you I’m not drunk, nor high, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He chuckled again and rubbed his hands together. “Though the idea does have merit, all things considering.” A muscle clenched in his jaw.

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