Dark Blue: Study in Seduction, Book 1 Read Online Free PDF Page B

thought he couldn’t see her. Noticed the moistening of her lips with her tongue that could be nervousness and desire. Seen her thighs crushed together when he demanded she read the poem. Heard her breath hitch as she’d tried to utter the obscene text. Almost felt the warmth of her blush as she hurtled through the verses. Felt her shame as she’d slammed the pages shut and glanced up at him, so fleetingly and undeniably for his approval.
    And he’d held back that approval, denied it to her. It was cruel of him, but necessary.
    The April evening had turned cool, chilling his still-damp skin. He pulled on a fresh pair of shorts, grabbed his jeans from the chair, and a T-shirt. He suspected she was single—hoped she was single—and then cursed himself for even speculating on the fact. Dr. Bhide’s condition meant he’d to stand in and take over her first-year tutor group for their summer term. Now he would be seeing Carla at least once a week, including their one-to-ones. If he let his guard slip, if he ever again gave in to the desires she aroused in him, the forbidden desires for a tutor and his student, where might it end this time?
     
     
    Carla’s mobile rang as she unloaded her laptop and books at her hostel flat later that day. The name on the screen made her smile and was a welcome distraction from thinking about Alex Lemaitre.
    “Hello, Mum!”
    “Hello, Carla, darling, how are you?”
    “Fine, Mum.”
    “Good. Now, you’ll never guess who’s here with me.”
    By the tone of her mum’s voice, Carla instantly guessed, and sure enough, she heard her mother-in-law’s horsey guffaw in the background. Mrs. Jonas Senior ran a stables, and Carla thought it might be catching. However, her mother adored her mother-in-law, and since Stephen had gone, they’d been devoted to each other.
    “Gillian wants to know when you’re coming home next,” said her mum.
    “Well, I’m really busy working. I have Mods up in a few weeks.”
    “Mods?”
    “First-year exams, Mum. They’re called Mods, short for Honour Moderations. I’m revising for them, and I’ve got an essay to finish.” And what an essay; the mere thought of reading it out loud under Alex’s exacting eye sent hot and cold shivers up her spine.
    “Oh, well, I wouldn’t like to interrupt your studies. The thing is Gillian and I have something special planned for the weekend. Nothing huge, of course, but it’s that time, Carla. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
    Carla had forgotten, and the guilt thudded down like a thunderbolt. She’d never forgotten the date before. How could she have? It had been four years since Stephen was killed in a car accident on his way back from a conference. Every year on the anniversary of his death, his family and friends had met at his grave to light a candle and afterwards held a little gathering to remember him.
    “When did you want to have the Gathering, Mum? Next weekend?”
    They couldn’t call the Gathering a “party”, although Carla knew that Stephen would have approved if they had. He had been the life and soul of any social event, and if he could see them now, she was sure he would itch to tell them one of his stories or open up the piano and sing one of the rugby club songs that had their mothers covering their ears and shrieking with horror. The whole club had packed into the church for his funeral, along with colleagues from work and the neighbours. They had to pipe the service outside through loudspeakers because so many local people had turned up. Stephen used to raise money for the local hospice. Everyone loved him.
    “Of course. You will be there, won’t you? I’m sure you can take a day off from revising. Stephen would have wanted you to,” said her mum.
    By now, Carla was so used to people telling her what Stephen would have wanted that the words rolled over her without angering or hurting her. Yet there was a time, a few months after he died, when the phrase made her hands shake and