Chapter One

Anya Sanchez

I parked my car at the only spot available in the small lot near the criminal justice building. My hands were so shaky on the wheel I could barely keep hold of the darn thing. I was anxious the whole way to the university from my apartment.

You got this, Anya. Did I, though?

I was normally one of those annoying people who always tried to dig the silver linings—the positive—out of every situation. But I struggled this time. And it was because for six weeks, during the summer-one session, I was in Ursin Miller's class. I never thought I'd meet this man, and I didn't realize he taught summer terms at the university. He was the only DA to ever take six weeks off to teach a summer session at the university. But I knew about him for many years. It was personal.

He put my father away. And I didn't blame him at all. Would I mention it? No way. I just wanted to have an easy six weeks and get my last three credits to graduate with a degree specializing in investigative journalism. See, I was going to tell true crime stories and shine light on the truth of what the bad guys did. All of them. Cartels, traffickers, swindlers, murderers… It was the only way I could feel better about what my father did to people, and why I changed my last name. I wanted nothing to do with him.

Ugh. Snap out of it. I was too in my head.

I drew in a long breath, expanding my lungs to capacity and getting enough nerve to open the car door. I stepped on the pavement, one Teva sandal then the other. My bohemian maxi dress fell down my legs, dancing along my skin. Damn, it was hot. The sun overhead was aggressive, forcing an acknowledgement. I see you, sun. I feel you, damn it. And with a light touch of my finger on the sunglasses resting on my head like a tiara, my sunglasses fell forward and shielded my watering eyes.

I grabbed my backpack from the trunk of my sedan and shut it. There, I said a little prayer to get me through the two-hour class without any issues, and off I went to the building conveniently close to my rock star parking spot.

As I walked onto the cement sidewalk winding through the beautiful landscape of my university, I scanned for friends or classmates I might have had before. I didn't notice anyone. But I smiled and waved as I passed others. And they smiled back and waved, too. Good sign. First-day-of-school jitters got the best of me. When I arrived at the large auditorium classroom, I paused at the threshold of the double metal doors opened and ready to receive students for the nine in the morning class—the first lecture of the day.

"No coffee?" A voice came from the side.

"Huh?" I turned to face Reggie. He had been in my political science class in the spring. "Oh, hey, Reg. I didn't know you were taking summer-one session."

He sighed, sipping from his Starbucks cup—there was a kiosk in the food hall. "I have to make up this class. I dropped out of it last semester. I was too stressed with trying to graduate at the end of summer."

"Oh." My heart warmed. He did look stressed. "How many credits are you taking?"

"Six this sesh, and six for summer-two." He drank again and glanced at his large-faced watch. "Shit. Class is about to start."

"Thank goodness I found a good parking spot." I shifted my backpack. "Or else I'd probably be ten minutes late."

"Right on." He took another sip of his coffee. "See you inside."

"Right behind you."

And I did sit right behind Reggie in the huge auditorium. Almost every seat was full by then. The noise was at a maximum, as students unpacked and got ready for the lecture. I also made some noise, talking to other classmates I recognized and hadn't seen in a while. Things started to look up. My anxiety was down a lot, and I was feeling more confident.

Until the metal doors shut—more like slammed—and the room went silent. Eerily silent. And the taps of dress shoes moved down the cement steps and there he was. Ursin Miller, District Attorney.

My heart leapt right into my throat. Holy cow. This man was gorgeous—uncomfortably so. He was not exactly what I'd seen in the papers—online and print. He was tall, striding with thick legs to the podium, his perfectly sculpted chin up, and his shiny black hair gleaming under the crappy lighting.

A hot breath blew between my lips, and for a moment I thought I actually moaned. I bit my lip, waiting for him to face the class, just like everyone else was waiting too. And when he finally did, my stomach rippled, because his glowing hazel-green eyes latched onto mine and held them. How I could see the exact color of his iris was beyond me—I was too far away.

I wanted to pass out from not breathing. And my face was so hot, I thought I'd explode at any moment. What the actual hell? I had never in my life responded to a man like this before. Never. But he had a power around him, an energy that commanded attention. He was a magnet. And I was drawn as if my own free will was null and void.

And in a moment, he turned his electric gaze away from me, and I was completely abandoned, deflated. He took my life force in those few moments. Scary. I hoped this was just a one-off. Because if I couldn't even breathe around my professor, how would I pass the course?

Damn. I dropped my gaze to my notebook, opened to a blank page, and took in a breath.

"Sorry for the delay. I don't appreciate tardiness in others as well as myself." His voice was deep, booming over the auditorium. He didn't even have a microphone. "But some person who either doesn't have manners or know how to read took my assigned parking spot."

I gasped, snapping my eyes to him again. But he no longer looked at me. No, he was rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, each to his elbows.

"Anyone here drive a white Volkswagen?" His eyebrow lifted, and he scanned the quiet room, no one saying a word. Mr. Miller nodded, took out his laptop, and opened the lid, the projector activating with a slide that read: Criminal Justice I, Ursin Miller, JD. "Okay, I see what kind of class this is going to be."

Oh, God. It had to have been me. Because getting the parking spot right outside the building shouldn't have been so easy. And yes, I did have a white Volkswagen. Oh, no. Waves of anxiety rushed through my body. I was more convinced than ever. It was me. I parked in Mr. Miller's parking spot.

"It wasn't me, sir." A blonde student and others also shouted their innocence.

Mr. Miller nodded, and his gaze slid along the students, then stopped on me again. Flames of heat lashed my skin, and my heart rattled wild in my chest.

"No worries." His jaw clenched. "I will find out. I have no doubt about that."

Of course, he would find out. He was the DA, for God's sake, which meant one thing. I was screwed.