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“T hought you might be back for those.”

Ariatne Morrow jumped out of her skin, two of her textbooks dropping to the floor of Murdoch’s office and he was glad she didn’t catch his smirk.

Still, he strode to pick them up before she could and set them on her teetering stack. She looked up at him like he might murder her, so he stepped back, looking away from her pretty green eyes toward the huge satchel she always lugged around but had left in his office for the last two days. “What have you got in that bag if you’re carrying all those books around?”

She looked self-consciously at her bag, her freckled cheeks turning pink.

Christ . He moved to put his desk between them.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I keep lots of notes and sketch pads and”—she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, hugging her books to her chest—“I enjoy reading for recreational value, too.”

“How many recreational books do you have in there, then?”

“Two.”

Liar . felt his body heat, and he cleared his throat. “Are you staying for class this time, Miss Morrow?”

He could tell by the way her eyes darted around then landed on him with ire, that she wanted to say no. Surprising him yet again, she nodded. “Yes. But I will not just sit there and observe.”

Her notes and sketches proved that was a vast waste of her time and intellect, but admitting that to her was too volatile a thing. She had the brains and hadn’t been exaggerating her knowledge base, but she was na?ve enough to leave earth-shattering notes in his office for nearly two days. It probably never even occurred to her that he wasn’t honourable enough not to look at them.

With any other student, he wouldn’t have. Would never have considered it. But Ariatne Morrow was something different. She did something different to him. Ever since he made the mistake of opening that first notebook, all he’d wanted to do was crack open her mind and swim in it.

“All right.” Her face brightened at his agreement and he leaned back in his chair, tapping the end of a pen to the mahogany of his desk. “But you’ll take the quiz with the class today.”

He expected her face to drop, but there was a challenge in her eyes. Perhaps a thrill, too.

“If you pass it, you can make my copies.”

God help him, she snorted. “If I pass it, I get a chance to prove to you I know what the hell I’m doing.”

ran his tongue over his canine and she met his stare, defiance in the set of her jaw, her lips. He rose and held out his hand. “Deal.”

He could have sworn she winced when her hand clasped his.