Chapter 2
Two months later
“I’m late. I can’t believe I’m late.”
Daniela uttered the words to herself as she hurried across the impeccably manicured grounds of Northbridge University toward the Law Classroom Building located in the center of campus. It was the first day of classes, and she was late for her eight o’clock civil procedure course.
Despite weeks of planning and preparing for the undercover assignment, Daniela couldn’t have foreseen that her mother would come down with the flu the day before the fall semester began, and that she would spend the entire night nursing Pamela Roarke back to health.
She couldn’t possibly have known that after dragging her tired body from bed and going through the motions of showering and getting dressed, she’d be faced with her next obstacle: finding her car keys.
She’d searched for close to an hour before locating the keys where she’d left them last night—still buried in the front-door lock, where she’d forgotten them in her haste to investigate the source of the violent puking she’d heard when she came home.
When she finally left the house that morning, her mother had been sleeping soundly, and Kenneth’s wife, Janie, was on her way over to take the second shift. Not for the first time, Daniela thanked God for blessing her with a sister-in-law who was a stay-at-home mom.
Daniela slipped inside the air-conditioned coolness of the Law Classroom Building and strode down the tiled corridor in search of the right lecture hall.
Even before she rounded the corner and saw him, she heard The Voice. Deep, husky, with pure masculine tones that rippled along her nerve endings. Like sinuous curls of smoke from a sorcerer’s flame, it reached out to her, wrapping around her body and drawing her inexorably closer.
She stepped from the hallway and into the dark, piercing gaze of Caleb Thorne. Her pulse hammered at the base of her throat, and for one awkward moment she hovered in the doorway, completely frozen and speechless.
Firm, sculpted lips curved in a half-mocking, half-amused smirk. “So nice of you to join us, Miss—?”
“Moreau,” she croaked, the alias wobbling off a tongue that seemed stuck to the roof of her mouth. Funny, she hadn’t counted on being totally blindsided by an attraction to her intended victim. “Sorry I’m late.”
“I’m sure your clients will appreciate knowing that every time you show up late to court,” Professor Thorne said dryly.
Daniela’s face burned with embarrassment as her classmates erupted in laughter. Bravely squaring her shoulders, she looked around quickly before sliding into a vacant chair on the fourth row.
An attractive young Asian woman seated next to her offered a sympathetic “Better you than me” look that only made Daniela feel worse about her ill-fated entrance.
So much for making a good first impression.
After taking a minute to compose herself and turn on her laptop, Daniela allowed her gaze to drift back toward Caleb Thorne.
To say that the man was sublime would be a huge freaking understatement.
The hard, masculine line of his square jaw was accentuated by a close-trimmed beard.
He had a strong blade of a nose, and his cheekbones could have been carved from granite.
His short, thick black hair had a curl to it, and his skin was the warm brown of toasted walnut.
He was tall, easily six foot three or four—a towering specimen of male dominance as he prowled back and forth in front of the lecture hall with relaxed, powerful strides Daniela wouldn’t soon forget.
He wore a short-sleeved black shirt that stretched deliciously across massive shoulders, and blue jeans that rode low on lean hips and cupped a beefy round ass. An intricate tattoo across his hand ramped up his hotness to obscene levels.
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 skimmed high, sharp cheekbones. “Don’t worry, he has that effect on practically everyone with a double X chromosome.”
“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 is such a 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 at whatever 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.
“Wanna grab a cup of coffee at Java’s?” she called to him in a smooth, lilting voice.
“Of course,” he responded, and Daniela’s heart sank.
He glanced down at her, his face an impassive mask that convinced her she’d only imagined that electrically charged moment back in the lecture hall. “My office hours are on the syllabus if you need to reach me. See you on Wednesday.”
“Okay.” As Daniela watched him saunter toward the West Indian beauty, she realized she didn’t have as much time as she’d thought to win over the sexy law professor.
She’d have to step up her game or pack up her toys and go home.
“How’d the first day of classes go?”