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Her Guilty Secret - Клэр Коннелли - Читать любовный роман онлайн в женской библиотеке LadyLib.Net
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Connelly Clare
Her Guilty Secret
Аннотация к произведению Her Guilty Secret - Клэр Коннелли
She's the good girl…He’s guilty as sin!Hotshot defence attorney and visiting professor Connor Hughes is so hot it’s criminal! And while idealistic law student Olivia Amorelli might not agree with his practices, she just can’t stop fantasising about ripping Connor’s clothes off. But she’s always been a good girl, and an affair with her teacher is strictly forbidden—until Connor tempts Olivia to let him corrupt her…!
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PROLOGUE
She’s the good girl...
He’s guilty as sin!
Hotshot defense attorney and visiting professor Connor Hughes is so hot it’s criminal! And while idealistic law student Olivia Amorelli might not agree with his practices, she just can’t stop fantasizing about ripping Connor’s clothes off. But she’s always been a good girl, and an affair with her teacher is strictly forbidden—until Connor tempts Olivia to let him corrupt her!
CLARE CONNELLY was raised in small-town Australia among a family of avid readers. She spent much of her childhood up a tree, Mills & Boon book in hand. Clare is married to her own real-life hero and they live in a bungalow near the sea with their two children. She is frequently found staring into space—a surefire sign that she’s in the world of her characters. She has a penchant for French food and ice-cold champagne, and Mills & Boon continue to be her favorite-ever books. Writing for Mills & Boon is a long-held dream. Clare can be contacted via clareconnelly.com or her Facebook page.
If you liked Her Guilty Secret, why not try
Stripped by Nicola Marsh
Sweet as Sin by J. Margot Critch
Getting Naughty by Avril Tremayne
And check out the next installment in
Clare Connelly’s Guilty as Sin duet,
His Innocent Seduction,
coming soon to Mills & Boon!
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.
Her Guilty Secret
Clare Connelly
ISBN: 978-1-474-08681-3
HER GUILTY SECRET
© 2019 Clare Connelly
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
For Elle Woods and Legally Blonde,
without whom I might never have enrolled in a
law degree and had my own inappropriate crush
on a lecturer.
Contents
PROLOGUE
SHE SITS IN the third row of students, as usual. Her enormous eyes stare at me with the kind of intensity that makes my blood pound and my cock hard. She stares at me with eyes that are mentally stripping my body of clothes, imagining what’s underneath.
I should know.
It’s how I want to look at her, but I can’t because she is forbidden to me.
Olivia.
Olivia Amorelli.
Even her name is a turn-on.
She’s wearing the pale green dress again, the one she wore last week. It comes to her knees and has tiny white swallows detailed in the fabric. There are buttons down the front, and I have spent way too long fantasising about pulling them apart using only my teeth, stripping her, slowly. Unwrapping her like a Christmas gift, a present just for me.
What the hell is happening to me?
I don’t think I’ve ever fantasised about a woman like this, and never one like Olivia. She is all that is sweet and innocent. She is my opposite in every way. I have made a career defending the indefensible. I am renowned—notorious?—for my defence of the unscrupulous. Men like Donovan. Thoughts of that particular case needle my sides and I push them away, not wanting to think of that man now. Not wanting to think about the fact he is free because of me. But he is. Free, because of me. I can’t ignore it.
Where I am darkness, Olivia Amorelli is not. In the few weeks I’ve been her professor, I’ve discovered she thinks differently to me. She is purity and passion, sweet and good. Her smile practically glows with sunbeams.
What would it be like to have someone like her in my bed? In my life?
Would that be enough to lay this demon to rest? If someone like Olivia could want me, could forgive me my sins, would I make my peace with what I’ve done?
All sins are deserving of forgiveness, Connor. Father O’Sullivan said that to me a lot after my parents’ murder. He believed my hatred for the terrorists responsible for their deaths would consume me one day, and perhaps he was right. Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The quote from James spins around my head often; I hear it in Father O’Sullivan’s hoarse, throaty whisper, cracked by that gentle smile of his.
I came to pray for my parents’ murderers, to understand that in forgiveness lay my own refuge from grief and despair. It worked, for a time. I don’t think anyone is praying for me right now. I don’t think I deserve it, either.
I run my eyes over the room, pretending to scan the other students when it’s really just a ruse to return my focus to her. She’s toying with her blonde hair, flicking the ends of her ponytail between her fingers. Her nails are red today, just like her lips, and I want them on my body more than I can say. Her nails, her lips. All of her.
It’s been four weeks. Four weeks of watching her and wanting her, knowing that I can’t act on it. The school’s guidelines prohibit it.
That wouldn’t usually stop me from taking what I want but, the thing is, she’d get suspended. Possibly expelled.
Just because I want to run my tongue down her body and taste every inch of her. Just because I want to see if her innocence can be drawn to my guilt; to see if she can absolve me with her body’s delights.
It would be selfish to indulge this. Selfish to make her wait after class just so I can be alone with her. Selfish to lift her dress up and take her against the whiteboard, making her cry out into this very classroom.
Fuck. I’m hard as granite. I stand, keeping my body behind the desk. ‘Right.’ I look right at her and she sits a little straighter, pressing her knees together beneath the table. My cock jerks. ‘Let’s get started, shall we?’
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