Dear Sir, I'm Yours by Joely Sue Burkhart

eyebrow stare that could whip even the most recalcitrant professor into sitting on yet another committee. “Miss Barrak, you were reported as cheating today on your mid-term.”
    “No, ma’am, I wasn’t cheating. That’s why I came to Dr. Connagher’s office.”
    “So you’re calling Dr. Connagher a liar?”
    Conn kept his mouth shut. The dean knew very well what kind of student this was and could handle her. He didn’t need to be running off at the mouth, no matter how pissed off he was.
    Simpering at him even with a witness to her behavior, Miss Barrak replied, “He’s mistaken.”
    “Well, then, the resolution to this problem is simple. I will re-instate you into Freshman English—”
    Olivia practically cooed and swayed back toward him. “Oh, thank you, Dean, I—”
    “However.” Dean Strobel’s brutally cold voice froze Olivia in place and wiped the sultry smile off her face. “You will transfer to my class.”
    Olivia paled and turned big cow eyes to him as though he would help by fighting for her honor. In all honesty, it was all he could do not to dance in celebration that he’d be free of her.
    This girl was Trouble which he didn’t need, not with a former student back in his life.
    “Dean, please reconsider! I’m certain that I’ll learn better with Dr. Connagher.”
    “Are you insulting my teaching skills, Miss Barrak?” The girl babbled incoherently, nearly in tears, but Dean Strobel ignored her playacting. “Besides, your current grade with Dr.
    Connagher is barely above fifty percent. Surely even I can teach you better than that.” Dean Strobel winked at him. “If you’re willing.”
    The dean led the spluttering, whining student to her office to arrange for formal transfer.
    Conn sagged on a huge sigh of relief. He might have a reputation for toughness in his upper-level classes, but nobody graded as hard and demanding as Dean Strobel. Olivia Barrak had met her match alright. She’d be lucky to come out of the class alive.
    He felt a sudden overwhelming urge to see Rae, to hear her voice and confirm that she was still there. What if she disappeared on him again? Did she honestly still want him? Could they ever find a happy medium ground where they could both be happy, unafraid, and utterly fulfilled?
    He locked his office door and quickly headed for his car. She was his for the night. His.
    Blood pumping, he tore out of the parking lot and drove to the gym for a long, hard workout.
    No matter what it takes, I will not scare her away this time.

    ***
    Stiff as a board, Rae stared at herself in the mirror while Miss Belle fussed and cooed, adjusting ribbons.
    Ribbons.
    Lots of fluffy gauzy stuff and silky satin material.
    All white.
    Miss Belle certainly knew her grandson’s taste in women’s clothing. The dress should have made her look like a little girl…but it was cut like a babydoll negligee. The gathered bodice tied with tiny ribbons, sheered gathers skimming down her waist and hips to fall short of her knees. Tiny little straps bared her shoulders, while most of the back was open.
    “I can’t wear this. It looks like a nightgown.” A very sexy nightgown.
    “That’s why the silk sheath is underneath, dear.” Miss Belle stepped back, tilting her head. “It’s perfect. Now for your hair—”
    “I’m not going to fix myself up like a fake Barbie doll. I’m not changing myself for any man!”
    “Balderdash. Getting dressed up is not changing yourself. This is your chance to do something nice for yourself.” Miss Belle yanked the ponytail holder out of her still-damp hair from her earlier shower and Rae yelped as the old lady attacked with a hairbrush. “Don’t stand there and tell me you never in your life wanted to dress up like a princess. This is your chance.”
    “If he wants a princess he can forget it.”
    “He wants you , Rae Lynn.” In moments, Miss Belle had her hair brushed out. A few well-placed pins with crystal heads, and Rae didn’t even