The lecture hall smelled of old wood, dry paper, and the faint buzz of nervous freshmen. Mia Sinclair didn’t belong among the nervous ones. At twenty-one and in her final year, she had already aced every literature course that mattered. But this one was different. This one had Professor Adrian Vale.
She arrived early and took the exact center seat in the front row, crossing her long, toned legs so her short black pleated skirt rode dangerously high on her thighs. Her white blouse was tailored tight, the top buttons undone just enough to show the soft swell of her full breasts and the delicate black lace bra underneath. She wanted him to notice. She *needed* him to notice.
When Adrian Vale entered the room, the air shifted. He was six-foot-three of pure authority—broad shoulders filling o
