Chapter 9
It was, Caleb admitted to himself later that afternoon, one of the stupidest things he’d ever done in his life.
He’d had no business having coffee with Daniela Moreau.
Not when thoughts of her had taunted him for the past three days.
Not when he’d found himself seeking her out almost from the moment he stepped foot in the classroom that morning.
And definitely not when, in the middle of drilling her on a case, he’d found himself imagining her silky-soft skin pressed up against his, her luscious body writhing beneath him as he fucked her brains out.
He’d had no business having coffee with her.
His first mistake had been getting into her car.
The eight-minute ride to the café had been pure torture.
Every time Daniela shifted in her seat, the high slit in the side of her skirt had exposed the shapely curve of a milk chocolate brown thigh.
Every time her slender hand palmed the gearshift, working the manual transmission with the skilled ease of a pro, his imagination—along with his libido—had kicked into overdrive.
By the time they reached the coffeehouse, he’d been half out of his mind with lust.
Was it any wonder he’d put up little resistance when Daniela offered him a taste of her ice cream, holding out the sweet sampling like Eve beckoning to Adam with the forbidden fruit?
Against his better judgment he’d accepted the offering, and the answering hunger in Daniela’s dark, sultry eyes had sent raw need rushing straight to his dick.
Who would’ve thought that something so simple, so seemingly innocent, could be so mind-numbingly erotic?
When Daniela turned around and slid the spoon back into her own mouth, Caleb just about lost it.
It took a monumental act of willpower not to haul her across the table and into his lap, onlookers be damned.
Even now, five hours later, the memory of that encounter heated his blood, causing an uncomfortable straining at his zipper.
He bit back a frustrated expletive and scrubbed a hand over his face as if to erase the torturous images from his mind—all of them, including the one of Daniela’s luscious ass sheathed in skintight denim.
Why couldn’t he have included some sort of dress code on the syllabus, something that would keep every enticing curve and inch of Daniela’s body concealed?
It was bad enough that the alphabetical seating chart placed her right in front of the lectern, making it impossible for him not to notice her.
When his assistant, Emma, gave him the chart yesterday, he’d been half tempted to rearrange the seating assignments, sending Daniela all the way to the back of the lecture hall where she couldn’t torment him, where she couldn’t distract him with a teasing flash of panties every time she crossed her legs in a short skirt.
When he showed up for work that morning, he’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of her that he’d forgotten to remove his helmet and stow it before heading to class.
By the time he remembered he was still wearing it, he’d already reached his destination.
Having to turn around and walk back to the parking lot would’ve made him feel like an even bigger fucking idiot.
Swearing under his breath, Caleb stared at the blinking cursor on his computer screen. In the hour since he’d sat down to work on his law review article, he’d typed all of three sentences. Three. At this rate, he wouldn’t be finished until Christmas.
“Does that scowl mean things aren’t going well?”
Caleb looked up as Shara Adler appeared in the doorway, a playful smile on her face.
“Hey there,” he said warmly, welcoming the distraction. Maybe what he needed was a few minutes of stimulating conversation with a colleague to get those cerebral juices flowing again. God knows he’d done enough thinking with the wrong head today.
Pushing away from his desk, he leaned back in the chair and folded his arms behind his head, giving Shara a lazy smile. “How’s your day going?”
“Can’t complain. But judging by the look on your face a minute ago, you can’t say the same. What are you working on?”
“Law review article.”
“Which one?”
“Take a guess.”
She shook her head at him. “It isn’t enough to be the faculty advisory chair of the Law Journal, is it?” she teased. “You just have to add your two cents to every issue.”
Caleb chuckled. “I’m narcissistic enough to think my contributions help make our journal among the most frequently cited law reviews in the country,” he drawled. “Leave me to my illusions, woman.”
She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her amber eyes.
With reddish-brown skin and dark silky hair that hung to her waist, Shara Adler was a striking woman who drew her fair share of admirers.
Her tall, lithe body was stylishly dressed in a silk halter top, a mid-calf length skirt and low-heeled sandals.
“I haven’t seen you all day,” she said quietly.
“I was just about to say the same thing. Where’ve you been hiding?”
“I’m not the one who’s been hiding,” Shara countered, a touch of reproof in her cultured tones. “You are.”
Caleb lifted a brow. “I am?”
“Yes.” Without waiting for an invitation—knowing she didn’t need one—she stepped into his office and walked toward the window overlooking the courtyard nestled between the Law Classroom Building and library.
As she passed his desk, Caleb caught a hint of the light, tropical fragrance she wore, a scent that often reminded him of the week he’d spent at her beachside cottage in St. Kitts, where he’d retreated to escape the turbulence of his own life.
Shara had generously opened her home—and her arms—to him, and for that he’d always be grateful to her.
Absently he picked up a round crystal paperweight his father had once given him. Embedded inside was a small acrylic globe because, as Crandall Thorne had explained, he’d always known Caleb would take the world by storm.
The paperweight was the only memento Caleb had taken from his plush corner office suite when he left the law firm.
“How’s Devon?” he asked Shara, who stood utterly still at the window with her back turned to him. “Enjoying his final year in middle school so far?”
“Of course. He and his friends already have bets going about who can charm the prettiest incoming sixth-grader. Isn’t that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard?
Why should they spend all their time chasing younger girls?
” She gave a mirthless laugh. “But I guess that’s something men never outgrow. ”
The subtly launched missile hit its intended target. Without missing a beat, Caleb continued transferring the crystal paperweight from one hand to the other. When he spoke, his voice was remarkably calm. “What’s on your mind, Shara?”
She turned around slowly to face him. “Was that Daniela Moreau I saw you leaving campus with earlier?”
He inclined his head. “It was.”
Shara frowned with disapproval. “Do you really think that’s a good idea, Caleb? Fraternizing with your students?”
“She invited me for coffee. I accepted. End of story.”
“You know very well it’s not that cut-and-dried. You can’t be seen going out on dates with—”
“I’d hardly call what we had a date,” he interjected dryly.
“Maybe not this time. But what about the next time, and the time after that?” Shara’s nostrils flared in anger.
“Can you really afford to risk your career by getting involved with Daniela Moreau, or any other student? You’ve got a good thing going here, Caleb.
You’re greatly admired and respected by your students and colleagues.
The administration thinks you walk on water—despite your maverick attitude toward policies and procedures and your outright refusal to attend faculty networking events.
My God, Caleb, they even let you get away with showing up to class looking like the poster boy for a motorcycle gang! ”
“You know I hate wearing suits,” he grumbled.
“I know. Everyone knows. It’s your legacy around here—Professor Thorne, the hot, brooding bad boy with the dragon tattoo, soulful bedroom eyes and sin-inducing voice.”
He smirked. “Sin-inducing?”
“Don’t mock me! If you heard what these girls whisper about you, you’d understand exactly what I mean by that expression.
All I’m saying is, no student is worth losing your job over.
I don’t care how pretty she is.” Shara paused, then added snidely, “And honestly, Caleb, you’ve had prettier—students and girlfriends. ”
His eyes narrowed on hers in silent appraisal. “This isn’t really about my job security, is it, Shara?” he queried softly.
She averted her gaze, her mouth tightening. “Don’t make this about us.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No,” she snapped. “It’s about me looking out for a colleague, someone I also consider a good friend.
I don’t have to remind you that there aren’t too many of us in this department, Caleb.
If the three of us—you, me and Evander—don’t watch one another’s backs, who will?
” With a glance at her slim gold watch, she started toward the door. “I have a class in five minutes.”
“Shara.”
She turned back, one brow arched. “Yes?”
Caleb searched her tense face. “You know I’ve never crossed the line with any of my students before. What makes you so sure Daniela Moreau will be the exception?”
Shara gave him a sharp look. “What makes you so sure she won’t?”
With that terse challenge hanging in the air between them, she spun on her heel and strode out of the office.
Caleb was left to mull over her parting question, though he already knew the answer.
When it came to Daniela Moreau, the only thing he could be sure of was that he was in trouble.
Just how much trouble remained to be seen.