Free A Legal Affair by Maureen Smith Page B

ease of a pro, his imagination—along with his libido—kicked into overdrive.
    By the time they reached the coffeehouse, he’d been half out of his mind with lust.
    Was it any wonder he’d put up little resistance when Daniela offered him a taste of her ice cream, holding out the sweet sampling like Eve beckoning to Adam with the forbidden fruit? Against his better judgment he’d accepted the offering, and the answering hunger in Daniela’s dark, sultry eyes had sent need rushing straight to his groin.
    Who would’ve thought that something so simple, so seemingly innocent, could be so mind-numbingly erotic? When Daniela turned around and slid the spoon back into her own mouth, Caleb just about lost it. It took a monumental act of willpower not to haul her across the table and into his lap, onlookers be damned.
    Even now, five hours later, the memory of that encounter heated his blood, causing an uncomfortable straining at his zipper. Caleb bit back a savage oath and scrubbed a hand over his face as if to erase the torturous images from his mind— all of them, including the one of Daniela’s luscious rump encased in skintight denim.
    Why couldn’t he have included some sort of dress code on the syllabus, something that would keep every enticing curve and inch of Daniela Moreau’s body concealed?
    It was bad enough that the alphabetical seating chart placed her right in front of the lectern, making it impossible for him not to notice her. When his assistant, Emma Richter, gave him the chart yesterday, he’d been half tempted to rearrange the seating assignments, sending Daniela all the way to the back of the lecture hall where she couldn’t torment him.
    Swearing under his breath, Caleb stared at the blinking cursor on his computer screen. In the hour since he’d sat down to work on his law review article, he’d typed all of three sentences. Three . At this rate, he wouldn’t be finished until Christmas.
    “Does that scowl mean things aren’t going well?”
    Caleb looked up as Shara Adler appeared in the doorway, a teasing smile on her face.
    “Hey there,” he said warmly, welcoming the distraction. Perhaps what he needed was a few minutes of stimulating conversation with a colleague to get those cerebral juices flowing again. God knows he’d done enough thinking with the wrong head that day.
    Pushing away from his desk, he leaned back in the swivel chair and folded his arms behind his head, giving Shara a lazy smile. “How’s your day going?”
    “Can’t complain. But judging by the look on your face a minute ago, you can’t say the same. What are you working on?”
    “Law review article.”
    She shook her head at him. “It isn’t enough to be the faculty advisory chair of the Law Journal , is it? You just have to add your two cents to every issue.”
    Caleb chuckled. “I’m narcissistic enough to think my two cents are what makes our journal among the most frequently cited law reviews in the country,” he drawled. “Leave me to my illusions, woman.”
    She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her amber-colored eyes. With sun-kissed reddish-brown skin and dark, silky hair that hung to her waist, Shara Adler was a striking woman who drew her fair share of admirers. Her tall, lithe body was stylishly attired in a silk halter top and a pleated russet skirt that flared to midcalf length, and was accented by a woven leather belt and low-heeled linen sandals.
    “I haven’t seen you all day,” she said quietly.
    “I was just about to say the same thing. Where’ve you been hiding?”
    “ I’m not the one who’s been hiding,” said Shara, a touch of reproof in her cultured tones. “You are.”
    Caleb lifted a brow. “I am?”
    “Yes.” Without waiting for an invitation—knowing she didn’t need one—she stepped into his office and walked toward the window overlooking the courtyard nestled between the Law Classroom Building and library. As she passed his desk, Caleb caught a hint of the