Page 13 of Lessons in Sin

Chapter 8

Ice cold dread spreads through me at the sight of him. His mouth is moving but I can’t hear a word he’s saying, his words stolen by the rushing in my ears.

This cannot be happening.

For the second time since meeting him in that crowded club, I find myself incapable of looking away but instead of desire, or lust or any of those nice, good emotions being my captor, this time its stone-cold fear.

Walking the length of the room, his muscles pressing against his white dress shirt, he stops at the podium. I force myself to listen, to tune back in, to ignore that shouting, screaming part of me that’s telling me to run.

‘… nte, Hardy, all the greats but we’ll also be looking at a few lesser-known writers – or lesser known in today’s day and age.’

His presence is as commanding in this stale lecture hall as it was in the club, every student hanging on to his every word. Teacher voodoo maybe?

He crosses his arms, and although I am in crisis mode right now, I’d be lying if I said a little … okay fine a large part of me isn’t thinking about how good he looks in a dress shirt and tie.

I feel heat creep along my collarbone, itching its way up my neck. I shouldn’t be thinking these things in a crisis like this! But as much as I want to deny it, the heat pooling at my core doesn’t lie.

He still hasn’t seen me, thankfully, and I have no idea what’s going to happen when he does.

Fuck, think Scarlett. Think!

Before I can think of what to do, not that there’s much that I can do, Tristan’s voice deepens, taking on that sexy, domineering tone.

‘Now, before we start the year, I’m going to make one thing clear—I do not tolerate half-assed bullshit from my students. If you want to waste my time, I will make sure to waste yours.’ He stands up straight. ‘Do I make myself clear?’

His eyes run over the class, surveying each student in turn, his eyes gleaming with the threat in his words.

My heart beats faster and faster until I swear if you took a knife to my heart, you’d open it to find a woodpecker pecking away, matching the tone of my panic. And then it happens.

It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion, there’s nothing I can do but wait as his eyes shift to where I’m sitting. His green eyes collide with mine and for a moment it’s like being transported back to that club. That same fizzle of chemistry still dancing between us, the same feeling of fate binding us together.

And then the realisation sets in.

His entire body tenses, his eyes widening in shock for a split second before he shuts down. Before he shuts me out.

It shouldn’t hurt, but it does.

His eyes, now shuttered to my gaze, continue their perusal of the class as if he hadn’t just learnt that he’d fucked his student a few days prior.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I need to get out of here.

I feel warmth at my side as Noah leans into me, his words a gentle whisper. ‘Are you okay? There’s a note of worry in his voice, my own emotions clearly aren’t as easily hidden as Tris—Professor Ryder’s.

I send him a tight nod and a weak smile and go straight back to looking forward, my gaze staring unseeingly ahead.

Falling straight back into teacher mode, Tristan claps his hands together. ‘Right okay then, let us begin. Over the year you’ll be assessed through a range of—’

His words disappear to nothing, but I know he’s still talking – only he can make goosebumps rise in the wake of his words like magic. Deeper than that there’s also an ache beating in time with my heart, pulsing with need. Clearly my body cannot comprehend the absolute shit show that this has turned into.

The rest of the class passes by in a slow blur of anxiety, Jane Austen, and him. Finally, the class ends, and I make a run for it, saying a quick goodbye to Noah and Lily before I bolt for the door.

And I almost make it.

‘Scarlett.’ Tristan says from behind me, and I can hear the slight undercurrent of anger he’s keeping on a tight leash.

I curse under my breath, dread churning in my stomach, but still, I turn to face him. ‘Yes?’

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