LUSTRONOMICA: WILD CRAVINGS
he said, voice low and cutting, “is why Austen’s so-called restraint is nothing more than repressed Victorian horniness dressed up in polite dialogue. Any questions?”
Kenzie’s hand shot up before her brain could file a formal complaint.
She was twenty-six, top of the PhD cohort, and the only student who never blinked when he eviscerated an answer. Today she wore a fitted black turtleneck that hugged her small breasts and a deep green plaid skirt that stopped mid-thigh, professional enough for academia, short enough to make him notice.
Blackwood’s gaze locked on her like a sniper. “Miss Hale. Of course.”