Smoothing the high-waisted skirt of her dress, Daniela let her gaze drift across the room, past the linen-draped tables and gilt frames on the walls, until it snagged on a familiar face.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Caleb.
He was sitting in a blue velvet banquette in a far corner. He wore a dark blue button-down shirt, open collar, his strong profile illuminated by the soft glow of a nearby chandelier. He wasn’t alone. Across from him, his silver hair catching the light, sat Gavin Kinsale, the dean of the law school.
A jolt went through Daniela.
It had only been seven hours since Caleb pleasured her in his office. Two nights since their bodies had tangled together in desperate need, since his hands had traced every curve and hollow of her body, since he’d given her the best orgasms of her life.
“Hey, isn’t that Professor Thorne?” Kolter’s excited exclamation broke into her thoughts. He pointed across the room. “And Dean Kinsale! Holy shit! Talk about the perfect two for one. Let’s go say wassup.”
“Let’s not,” Daniela blurted, her heart hammering against her ribs. At the surprised look he shot her, she added, “Maybe they’re talking shop and don’t want to be disturbed.” She tried to sound casual, but her voice felt thin and reedy.
“Are you kidding?” Kolter scoffed, already pushing back his chair. “I was literally just talking about networking, and two minutes later, the opportunity falls right into our lap.” He took her hand and tugged her out of her seat. “Come on, gorgeous. Don’t get shy on me now.”
Before she could protest further, he was already weaving through tables, and she had no choice but to let herself be towed along. Her muscles were stiff, a cold knot forming inher stomach. Every step felt like a march toward inevitable exposure.
As they approached the velvet banquette in the corner, Caleb looked up first. When he saw her and Kolter, his dark eyes narrowed before flicking down to their joined hands. A flash of something unreadable—surprise or displeasure—crossed his face, and his mouth tightened almost imperceptibly.
Daniela tugged her hand free and inched away from Kolter, guilt heating her face even though she’d done nothing wrong.
“Good evening, Professor Thorne, Dean Kinsale,” Kolter gushed, practically bowing.
“Hello there.” Dean Kinsale offered a genial smile, his blue eyes alight with curiosity. “And who might you be?”
“Kolter Busch, sir, and this is Daniela Moreau. We’re in Professor Thorne’s CivPro class.”
“Indeed,” Caleb murmured, his gaze sweeping over Daniela, lingering just a fraction too long on her slinky dress, on the curve of her hip, before shifting back to Kolter. “Mr. Busch, Miss Moreau. Nice to see you again.” His deep voice was smooth, controlled, giving nothing away. Yet Daniela felt the prickly heat of his disapproval, a silent reprimand pulsing in the air between them.
She forced a normal smile to her face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dean Kinsale. I hope we’re not interrupting your dinner.”
“Not at all,” he said amiably, gesturing to the cleared table. “We just finished our meal and were debating what to order for dessert. Or rather,Iwas debating. Unlike your esteemed professor, I lack the discipline to limit my weekly sweets intake. Guess that’s whyhehas the big muscles and I don’t,” he told Daniela with a self-deprecating wink.
She laughed, but it sounded high-pitched and unnatural.
Kolter gave her a teasing sideways grin. “Daniela was a bit hesitant to come over and say hello,” he confided. “I think Professor Thorne terrifies her even outside the classroom.”
Daniela blushed as Dean Kinsale laughed good-naturedly.
Caleb leaned back against the velvet banquette, his finger tracing the rim of his whiskey glass as he silently watched her. The directness of his stare, weighted with the knowledge of their scandalous secret, made her cheeks burn hotter.
“But unlike the rest of us poor suckers,” Kolter joked, oblivious to any undercurrents, “Daniela has no reason to be terrified. She’s clearly the teacher’s pet.”
“What?” Daniela croaked, whipping her head around to stare at Kolter. “I amnotthe teacher’s pet.”
“Sure you are.” Kolter grinned conspiratorially at Dean Kinsale. “Professor Thorne calls on her more than anyone else.”
“Is that right?” The dean chuckled at Caleb, whose inscrutable expression hadn’t changed. “Few lawyers love a good debate more than Caleb Thorne. Those who can match his wits—or at least mount a good challenge—tend to earn his respect and appreciation. So I suggest you step up your game, Mr. Busch.”
“Yes, sir,” Kolter said with a sheepish grin. “Daniela’s showing me the way.”
Her whole face flamed. She could see the rigid line of Caleb’s shoulders and the tight grip he had on his glass, tension radiating from him in tangible waves. He thought she was on a date with Kolter, and he was unhappy about it. Not just unhappy. Pissed.
A cold dread trickled down her spine.
“So are you two enjoying your evening?” Dean Kinsale asked kindly.