Isabella Winchester was a woman who wore restraint like armor.

High-necked blouses buttoned to the throat. Pencil skirts that hinted at curves but never surrendered them. Her fiery red hair was always twisted into a severe knot, as if she could physically contain the wildfire beneath her skin.

But Evan Hartley smelled smoke.

And he was determined to watch her burn.

The First Encounter

The parent-teacher conference was supposed to be routine.

Isabella sat behind her desk, fingers steepled, listening to Evan's mother fret over his slipping grades. But her attention kept snagging on him - the way he lounged in the chair beside his mother, all coiled tension and lazy arrogance. His blue eyes flicked to hers, just once. Just long enough to make her pulse stutter.

Dangerous.

She cleared her throat. "Evan has potential. He just needs? direction."

His lips twitched. As if he knew exactly what kind of direction he wanted from her.

The First Transgression

It started with small things.

Evan lingering after class under the pretense of discussing Wuthering Heights. His fingers brushing hers when she handed back his paper. The way he leaned just a little too close, his cologne - something dark and expensive - wrapping around her like an unspoken promise.

And then, the day her heel snapped.

She stumbled, her face nearly colliding with his lap. His thighs tensed beneath her palms, heat radiating through his slacks. When she tried to push up, her hand slipped - landing squarely over the hard ridge of his cock.

A sharp inhale.

Her gaze flew to his.

Evan's eyes were black with hunger.

"Ms. Winchester," he murmured, voice rough. "Are you trying to get me in trouble?"

She jerked back, cheeks flaming. "Leave. Now."

But they both knew - she hadn't pulled away fast enough.

The First Seduction

He cornered her in her office three nights later.

The door clicked shut. The lock turned.

Isabella's breath hitched. "Office hours are over, Mr. Hartley."

"I know." He prowled closer, his body crowding hers against the desk. "But we both know why I'm here."

Her heart hammered. "You're playing with fire."

His grin was pure sin. "Then let me burn."

His hand slid up her thigh, beneath her skirt. Her lips parted - not in protest, but in anticipation.

And when his mouth crashed down on hers, Isabella didn't push him away.

She pulled him closer.

continue.........