Page 4 of A Legal Affair
His panty-wetting appearance was a serious departure from the bookish law professor Daniela had imagined. No wonder practically every seat in the first row was occupied by a wide-eyed girl eagerly hanging on his every word.
The vibrations of his deep voice slid like a rough caress across Daniela’s skin. It was a voice that commanded obedience, each syllable he spoke weighted with authority. She was captivated, shamelessly so, and when those deep-set dark eyes came to rest on her once again, she actually shivered in response.
“What about you, Miss Moreau?” Professor Thorne asked, arms folded across his wide, muscled chest. “What are your expectations for this course?”
It took Daniela several seconds to realize that he’d actually addressed her, so preoccupied was she with watching his sensual mouth and wondering what it would feel like against her own, or sliding up her inner thigh…
She was pulled from her trance by a discreet cough to her right—her “Better you than me” friend again.
Daniela nervously wet her dry lips and mumbled, “I, um, have no expectations for this course.”
One thick black brow sketched upward. “Is that right?”
Daniela resisted the urge to squirm under that incisive gaze. “One thing I’ve come to understand about myself is that if I approach anything with too many expectations, I don’t learn or grow as much as I should, because my perceptions are shaped by my expectations. So I came here today with an open mind, which I think is good practice for anyone aspiring to enter the legal profession.”
Complete silence descended, as if the sixty-four other occupants of the room were holding a collective breath, awaiting Professor Thorne’s verdict on her response.
He nodded once, a trace of amusement and curiosity glinting in his eyes. He studied her a moment longer before turning away.
“Memorize Miss Moreau’s answer,” he told the class in a voice laced with humor. “It might show up on the final exam.”
The announcement was met with laughter and a few muffled guffaws. The girl seated beside Daniela gave her a thumbs-up, and Daniela grinned.
When class was over, the girl introduced herself. “I’m April Kwan.”
“Daniela—”
“Moreau. I know.” She giggled, scooping up her laptop and gliding to her feet. She was slightly taller than Daniela, and waifishly thin. Glossy black hair cropped in a pageboy skimmedhigh, sharp cheekbones. “Don’t worry, he has that effect on practically everyone with a double Xchromosome.”
“So I see,” Daniela murmured, eyeing the group of drooling female students surrounding Professor Thorne. At any minute, she half expected him to produce a pen and begin signing autographs.
“He issucha hottie. I heard that his classes always have the longest waitlists. Shocker, right?” April issued a lusty sigh, then grinned. “See you next time. Don’t be late.”
Daniela hung around until the last of the groupies had reluctantly departed before she approached Professor Thorne. Up close he seemed even taller, towering over her even in the stacked wedge sandals she wore.
“I need a syllabus,” she told him as he stuffed papers into a well-worn leather messenger bag.
When he passed her the requested document, their fingers brushed. Something like awareness sizzled between them, and for one charged moment their gazes locked and held.
Daniela stepped back, feeling as if she’d been singed with a dangerously seductive heat, the likes of which she’d never experienced in her life. She pulled vital air into her lungs before attempting to speak again.
“I know we, uh, got off on the wrong foot, Professor Thorne, but?—”
His eyes—rimmed with dense black lashes that would’ve given him a boyish appeal were he not so damn virile—narrowed on her face. “What’s your first name?”
“Daniela,” she answered, because she and her brothers had decided it was safe to stick as close to the truth as possible.
Professor Thorne nodded slowly. “What were you saying?”
“I just wanted you to know that I’m serious about being here and I plan to take my studies very seriously.” It wasn’t a lie—not exactly. After all, she’d always prided herself on being the best atwhatever she set out to accomplish. Why should this situation be any different?
“Never doubted it for a second, Miss Moreau.” With an economy of motion that had his pecs bulging, Professor Thorne swung the messenger bag over his shoulder and indicated that she should precede him from the room.
As she walked, she racked her brain, wondering if there was any way to detain him without arousing his suspicion. It was the first day of the semester, too early to request help with her coursework—although the lengthy reading assignment he’d given them was no laughing matter. Should she invite him for a cup of coffee? She knew for a fact that he didn’t teach another class until twelve-thirty. Still, there was no pressing reason to push him so hard, so fast. Was there? Even Kenneth had said that winning Caleb Thorne’s trust would take time.
Suddenly the professor was staring past her, his mouth curving into a warm, lazy grin that made her breath hitch. Who was the lucky beneficiary of such a bone-melting smile?
Curious, she turned her head to see a tall, willowy, Caribbean-looking woman with waist-length dark hair waving at Caleb from the opposite end of the bustling corridor.
