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Sarah Mitchell is mine to protect, to cherish, to love. And I'll be damned if I let anyone or anything come between us.
Chapter 6
Sarah
I step out of my car, the cool evening air nipping at my skin as I scan the dimly lit parking lot. My heart skips a beat when I spot a familiar figure leaning against a black truck.
Dr. Lucas Morgan stands there, his piercing grey eyes fixed on me. I swallow hard, my gaze tracing the tousled strands of his dark hair, down to where his crisp white shirt is rolled up at the sleeves. My fingers twitch, itching to reach out and touch those exposed forearms.
"Dr. Morgan," I say, cursing the slight tremor in my voice. "What are you doing here?"
He pushes off the truck, closing the distance between us with smooth, powerful strides. My pulse quickens with each step he takes. "Sarah," he says, his deep voice wrapping around me like velvet. "I wanted to make sure you got to the library safely."
I blink, surprised by his thoughtfulness. "That's... very kind of you, but I'm perfectly capable of walking across campus on my own."
A shadow passes over his face. "I know you are. But with your ex around, I didn't want to take any chances."
The mention of Mark sends a chill through me, and I wrap my arms around myself. Lucas's brow furrows, and he takes a half-step closer. The warmth radiating from his body makes me want to lean into him.
"I'm sorry," he says softly. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just... I need to know you're safe."
There's something in his voice, a raw honesty that makes my defenses crumble. I nod, unable to form words around the lump in my throat.
We begin walking across the campus. I find my eyes drawn to him again and again - the strong line of his jaw, the way his shirt stretches across his broad shoulders. Each time I look away, I have to resist the urge to look back.
"So," I finally break the silence, desperate for a distraction from my wandering thoughts, "how did your morning classes go?"
He looks at me, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a small smile. My stomach does a little flip. "They went well. Though I must admit, I was a bit distracted."
"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow, heat creeping up my neck. "Anything in particular on your mind?"
His eyes lock onto mine, and suddenly it's hard to breathe. "You could say that," he murmurs.
We're approaching the library now. As we near the entrance, a student rushes out, not looking where he's going. Before I can react, Lucas's arm is around my waist, pulling me against him. The student stumbles past, but I barely notice. All I can focus on is the firm press of Lucas's body against mine, the strength in the arm holding me close.
"Are you alright?" Lucas asks, his breath warm against my ear.
I nod, hyperaware of every point where our bodies touch. "Yes, thank you," I manage to say, my voice barely audible.
He releases me slowly, his hand lingering at the small of my back. The loss of contact leaves me feeling oddly bereft.
We enter the library. Lucas leads me to a private study room he's reserved, and as the door closes behind us, I feel a shift in the air, as if we've entered our own private world.
The room is small but cozy, with a large oak table dominating the space. A single window offers a view of the darkening sky outside. Lucas gestures for me to take a seat, and I do, setting my bag on the table.
"So," he says, settling into the chair across from me, "tell me about your project ideas."
I take a deep breath, pushing aside the butterflies in my stomach, and launch into an explanation of my research on the flipped classroom model. As I speak, I notice how intently Lucas listens, his eyes never leaving my face. He nods encouragingly, asking insightful questions that make me think deeper about my approach.
His undivided attention sends a thrill through me. The way he leans in, hanging on my every word, makes me feel valued and respected. But more than that, it's undeniably sexy. The intensity in his gaze, the sharp intelligence behind his questions, it all combines to make my heart race and my skin tingle with awareness.
"That's a fascinating angle," he says when I finish. "Have you considered incorporating elements of gamification to increase student engagement?"
I blink, surprised by the suggestion. "I hadn't, actually. That's brilliant!"
He smiles, a genuine, warm smile that reaches his eyes. "You're the brilliant one, Sarah. Your passion for this subject is evident."
I feel a blush creeping up my neck. "Thank you," I say softly. "It means a lot to hear that from you."
