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Show 89 to read aloud. He stayed seated at his desk, as she'd told the students to do when they were reciting only a few lines. "I found you as a morsel cold upon dead Caesar's trencher," Karl began. "Nay, you were a fragment of...." He stopped reading. How in the world was the next word pronounced? - "Gneius" Miss Petrov came to stand beside his desk, asking, "What is it you're having trouble with, Karl? Point out the line to me." He had his finger on the word, and raised his head toward her just as she leaned over his desk. By accident, the edge of his lips brushed the curve of her breast, that full, firm breast covered by thin lavender cloth that smelled of violets. Jerking backward as though he'd been stung, Karl lowered his head so that his face hung only inches above the open book. "Genius." She pronounced it for him as if nothing had happened. "Continue reading, Karl. '...of Gneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours....'" The words swam before his eyes, swam, then congealed, then flew apart so that he couldn't recognize a single letter, let alone a whole word. "Gneius," he croaked, not because he could read it, but because he'd heard her say it. "Never mind," she told him softly, and her voice, so close, dizzied his head the way her presence electrified his body. "Eugene, would you begin reading from 'besides what hotter hours...?" she asked, moving away from Karl's desk, leaving him drenched with confusion and perspiration. |
