I heard your voice, and I knew. I knew I had to be in your class.

I knew I had to be…

Yours.

As an Accounting student, Rae Jackson has never cared much for poetry, but that all changes when she hears Dr. Connagher's distinctive voice quoting some dead dude in the hallway. One look at his face, and she falls. Hard.

Piercing blue eyes. Craggy face she could study for hours. And the forearms of a warrior. She can't sign up for his infamous class fast enough. At least he doesn't teach Calculus.

But an unknown student can't hide for long in an upper-graduate English class. He calls her to his office, and all she can think about is that gorgeous cherry desk while his rumbling voice rolls her deeper into her fantasies.

Oh yes, Dr. Connagher. I've been a very naughty student indeed.

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