The moment I stepped into Professor Cole’s office, I felt it again—that heat pooling low in my belly. The door clicked shut behind me, locking me into a space that smelled like old books, leather, and something else. Something darker. Something purely him.
He didn’t look up right away. He sat behind his massive mahogany desk, fingers steepled beneath his jaw, eyes scanning a paper I couldn’t see. His tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, veined forearms. God, I was a sucker for those forearms.
“Miss Lane,” he finally said, lifting his eyes to meet mine. Steel-gray, sharp, assessing. “To what do I owe this… visit?”
I swallowed. My voice felt tight in my throat. “It’s about my paper.”
He arched a brow. “Your paper. The one analyzing dominance and submission in Wutheri
