Dark Blue: Study in Seduction, Book 1 by Natasha Bond Read Free Book Online Page A

back in the day that was five minutes later than London time.”
    “Naturally. Is there anywhere in Oxford that isn’t still on Oxford time?”
    Michael laughed. “I doubt it.”
    Emma and the others downed their drinks. The chimes of Great Tom had obviously been the signal to move on to the next watering hole, and fifteen minutes later, they arrived at a trendy cocktail bar jammed into a narrow side street.
    “Can I buy you a cocktail?” asked Michael.
    Carla knew he was broke on his meagre stipend from St Bert’s, and he was a genuinely nice guy and even relatively normal, despite being a scientist. She smiled at herself; that was the sort of statement Emma might make. Perhaps she was fitting into St Bert’s after all.
    “Why not?” she asked, and Michael’s face lit up.
     
    Alex grabbed his briefcase from the hallway and checked his watch again. He was bordering on OCD, according to Rana, who was only half joking. If he walked fast, he’d make it to the restaurant ahead of his dinner date. It was old-fashioned, and she could more than look after herself, but he didn’t like the idea of a woman waiting alone at the bar or the table for him.
    Call it the French side of him.
    Or the dominant side.
    Oh yes, he knew what he was, or what he would be given the chance with Carla. She’d made it bloody difficult to concentrate in their tute, that was for sure, and he’d overcompensated with his critique of her work as a result.
    Her face today after he’d critiqued her essay… He winced and closed his eyes.
    He thought he’d gone too far at first, that she had been crushed, yet by the end of the critique, the fire had returned to her eyes. She’d argued back, just enough to give him reassurance that she wasn’t totally demoralized. He’d caught her later, glaring at him as if she wanted to strangle him. He’d been trying to listen to Gideon, but he’d noticed her from the corner of his eye, and it had taken every ounce of his famous self-control not to smile.
    He hadn’t given in. He’d paid her no attention after his initial critique, beyond the civility required of a tutor for his student. She hated him, he was sure, and that was good. It protected him—and more importantly, it protected Carla.
    Since she’d confronted him in the cloisters, he’d been more determined than ever not to respond to her. He was a total bastard to blank her comments about the party, but he’d convinced himself it was for the best. A relationship with any student would end in disaster, let alone one who affected him as much as Carla did. It had killed him not to stand up in the middle of the tute, take her hand and lead her off to his house and do everything he’d promised to do at that party and a whole lot more.
    He’d battened down his desires and feelings for years now and become so good at it, he’d gained a reputation for austerity, coldness and rigour. Perhaps it wasn’t her he was protecting, but himself. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep it up. It was destroying him. He wanted her so much; not just to bare her gorgeous body and know every intimate part of her, but to strip away her emotional layers and have her utterly at his mercy. That was what he really got off on, wasn’t it? That was what a therapist would say—he wanted emotional control of a woman through sexual domination.
    He wanted control of Carla.
    He’d wanted her from the moment he’d seen her across that room at the party—nervous, unsure yet so willing to explore and eager to release the pent-up desires of years.
    Fuck. So where did he go from here? He was scared. Carla had unleashed emotions and desires so powerful that he felt he was fighting a losing battle against them every moment he spent in her company.
     
    Emma squeezed Carla’s arm. “You look happier. Have you recovered from Le Prof’s inquisition?” They were waiting in the queue for the ladies’ at the bar.
    “I’m fine. I suppose he has to be tough on us.