Authors: V. J. Devereaux
Tags: #Contemporary, #Suspense, #Paranormal
V. J. Devereaux
Published by the author as a member of the
Alexandria Publishing Group
Irish Fling Copyright © 2010 Valerie Douglas
Cover art by Gabi Moisa, text added by V. J. Douglas
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Lose yourself in other titles by Valerie Douglas
The Coming Storm
A Convocation of Kings
Not Magic Enough
Heart of the Gods
Servant of the Gods
to Terry, fire investigator extraordinaire, for the technical assistance,
and to my beloved husband, the motorcycle safety instructor, who remains my inspiration, always, and my source for all things motorcycle
Looking out over the jammed lecture room, Miri Reynolds –
Physics Professor Miri Reynolds, PhD, thank you very much –
scanned the restless crowd as they murmured and chatted among themselves. It was a familiar, almost comfortable sound to her. Easily her most popular lecture, Physics and Metaphysics was almost guaranteed to bring out a crowd and also bring out a certain number of the more... idiosyncratic…of the University’s students.
Not that she minded. She liked their more open minds.
Although sometimes they were just a little too open, she thought with an inward smile as she scanned the eclectically dressed gathering.
Her colleagues in the Physics department hated this lecture, its topic, but especially its popularity. The Head of the Department, Martin Constantine, constantly railed about it but Miri had always had an…eclectic…and diverse mind herself.
She drove Constantine crazy.
The thought of it, picturing the look on his face whenever the subject came up, made her grin.
Given the popularity and subject matter of the lecture there was usually a lot of chatter but tonight they were unusually quiet and distracted. All of the female students, and even some of the male, kept glancing toward the back of the room at tall, broad-shouldered man who stood half in the shadows there.
To tell the truth Miri was having some problems there herself and she didn’t even try to deny it.
The man was gorgeous, absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful in that edgy, slightly dangerous way some men have about them. Just looking at him, she found she wanted to take him somewhere private and bounce on him for a while. A long while. It had been some time since she’d seen anything remotely as prime as he was.
However much he might have tried to be unobtrusive, to disappear into the shadows, he would have been difficult to miss under any circumstances. For one thing he was very tall, six foot five or six at the least. For another, the muscles in his broad shoulders, strong chest and taut abs were clearly visible beneath a simple black tee shirt. That tee shirt was tucked into snug black jeans that might have been painted onto his narrow hips and long legs. Those muscles showed, too, in his bared arms.
Now that was a gun show she could truly admire. The man was definitely well armed, she thought with a mental giggle.
Add to all that, though, was a harshly beautiful, almost cruel face that would have looked right at home carved in granite on some ancient temple wall or on a statue in some exotic faraway land. His sharp, stern features were the visage of an ancient God King or temple guardian, definitely a warrior of some kind.
All that was missing from her flight of fantasy was a magic sword in his strong hands, a sword carved with runes, those powerful muscles flexing as he brought it to bear.
It was far too easy to picture herself with her body pressed against his well-muscled form like some romance novel heroine, her hands beneath his tight t-shirt to touch the warm skin and firm muscle beneath it.
A rush of heat went through her. Her nipples went taut and her pussy flexed, becoming damp at the thought of that magnificent body wrapped around her.
She sighed as she finished setting up. The smallest of the university’s lecture halls, it had already become uncomfortably warm. She was glad she’d dressed lightly. It might be fall up north, but it was still warm here. Or it might have been the man.