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walked down the hall, leaving them alone.
    Professor Worthy nodded absently, and Bree continued to smile. His dumbstruck response to her appearance gratified her.
    “What are you doing here?” he asked.
    “I’m here for my reunion. Five years. Remember?” She moved her gaze, peering into the office behind him. He still had the ground-floor office, the least desirable one. But though he was no longer the newest addition to the department, she was glad he hadn’t moved. The space was familiar, the overfull bookshelves and general air of messiness, the comfortable armchair and a few splendid original artworks sprinkled here and there.
    “Of course,” he said stiffly.
    Now they were alone, Bree was more conscious of her appearance. A hairbrush would have been nice. Oh well.
    “I’m glad I ran into you,” she said.
    “Are you?” he asked.
    Did she detect a note of wariness in his voice? Would he hold their little rendezvous against her and refuse to write her a recommendation? “Um, yes. I’m planning to apply to some master’s programs, and I wondered if you would write me a letter of recommendation. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
    Professor Worthy’s lips turned down. Maybe she’d made a mistake by leading with business. But how else was she supposed to ask him?
    “Very well. Why don’t you step into my office and we can discuss it?”
    “Now?”
    “No time like the present, Bree.” Something in his attractively accented voice made her shiver. Just the air conditioning on her sweaty skin, she told herself.
     
     
    Suggesting they go into his office was a mistake. Aidan realized it as the words came out of his mouth, but where else would they have some privacy? He took up his usual seat on the battered office chair behind his desk. She sat in the only other chair whose seat wasn’t piled high with books. Yes, the desk was his shield. Until he remembered he’d bent her over that very piece of furniture and pumped into her from behind. Aidan’s brain suddenly drained of all coherent thought as he relived the moment in an instant. He shook his head and tried to grab on to something real, something in the present. He saw the date on the calendar on his desk. Almost five years to the day since he’d had sex with one of his students, and here she was, out of thin air, to bring back the memory he both cherished and reviled every time it passed through his consciousness.
    He focused on the girl in front of him. No, she was a woman now. Her face was more angular than it had been at twenty-one, but still utterly ravishing, with the rich auburn hair that had bewitched him for a semester before he’d at last been able to feel it for himself, and long, creamy legs barely covered by her flimsy sundress. She looked rumpled and sticky and utterly fuckable. There he went again—when it came to Bree, his normally well-ordered, disciplined mind headed straight for the gutter.
    He needed to say something, but she’d apparently given up waiting for him. “Professor Worthy, I appreciate your time. I—”
    “Would you please call me Aidan?” Every time she called him professor it made him feel like a hideous pervert.
    “Um, sure.” But he noticed she didn’t actually say his name as she went on. “I recently decided to apply to some graduate programs. Most of the deadlines aren’t until the fall, but I thought I’d kill two birds and get my recs lined up while I’m here for the reunion. I rushed in from Logan, but I wanted to get to the reception. Maybe I should go back out there. I want to see Professor Woodlawn and Professor Bunmi as well.”
    “Sarrah Bunmi is no longer with the department. She got a job at Dartmouth last year. We’re interviewing candidates to replace her.”
    “Oh, how disappointing,” she said, frown lines marring her forehead.
    He hated to see her unhappy. “I’m sure I can find her contact information for you.” His offer was rewarded with a brilliant smile.
    “That