Spiral of Bliss 01 Arouse by Nina Lane Read Free Book Online

requirements for your academic program.” Mrs. Russell glanced pointedly at the line of students behind me. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
    I blinked back tears, refusing to budge. “Why would they have told me the credits would transfer if they’re not equivalent?”
    Then a tall, handsome man approached from another section of the office, his dark eyes fixed on me, his deep voice rolling over my skin like a wave of heat on a cold winter night.
    “Can I help with this?” he asked.
    My breath stopped in my throat. The sight of him jolted something loose inside me, and for an instant I could only stare at him, struck by the sharp, masculine planes of his face, the steadiness of his expression, his aura of complete control and self-possession.
    He was wearing black trousers and a navy blue shirt open at the collar to reveal a V of taut, tanned skin. His hair shone under the fluorescent lights, and I was seized by a sudden urge to tunnel my fingers through the strands to see if they felt as thick and soft as they looked.
    Unnerved, I jerked my attention back to Mrs. Russell, who was explaining the situation to him. She called him “Dr. West.” Likely a professor, then. I wondered what he taught.
    Dr. West listened patiently, glancing at me every so often. “What classes are you trying to take?” he asked me.
    “She’s a library sciences major, and she has to register for foreign lit translation and intro to biology,” Mrs. Russell said.
    “But I shouldn’t have to take those because my credits should transfer,” I persisted.
    “Make an appointment with a guidance counselor, Miss Winter,” Mrs. Russell suggested. “That’s all I can tell you.”
    “By the time I do that, classes will already have started.”
    “You have a couple of weeks yet to finalize your courses,” she continued. “I’m sure they’ll help you sort this out.”
    I knew by the tone of Mrs. Russell’s voice that she wasn’t going to give in, and the hopelessness of the situation crashed over me.
    “The professors can—” Dr. West started.
    “Never mind.” Because I didn’t want to start crying in front of
him
, I grabbed my bag and left the office.
    Halfway down the sidewalk, my vision blurry with tears, I tripped on an uneven piece of concrete and went sprawling onto my hands and knees. My open satchel thumped onto the ground, papers spilling out.
    “Are you okay?” Then he was there, crouching beside me to pick up the papers before the wind caught them. He reached out a hand but stopped an inch from my arm, his fingers brushing the sleeve of my gray sweatshirt.
    “I… I’m okay,” I said.
    He could have touched me. He was close. Close enough that I caught a whiff of him, a clean, soapy smell that settled in my blood and loosened the knot of frustration stuck in my throat. Close enough that I noticed the size of his hands, his long fingers and the dark hairs dusting his forearm where his sleeve inched up.
    Awareness shot through me. I dusted the grit from my palms and straightened. He stood between me and the street, waiting in silence for me to collect my composure. A few people passed behind me, forcing me a few steps toward him.
    He held out my satchel, his gaze moving over me, eliciting a surge of heat. I pushed strands of hair away from my face and looked at him. My heart hammered, my chest pooling with warmth. I was shaken all over again by the way my body reacted to him, with this hot pull of attraction I had never experienced before.
    Not for any man. Ever.
    “Thank you.” I took my satchel from him and straightened the papers. All I had to do now was turn and walk away.
    I didn’t. He was still looking at me, his hands in his pockets, his hair ruffled by the breeze.
    “Are you a professor here?” I asked.
    He was big. Not all bulky and heavy, but tall with broad shoulders, long legs, and that air of self-control that made him seem in total command. The wind flattened his shirt over his muscular chest,