The Forbidden Throb Chapter 145

Emma's POV:

The morning light filtered through Daniel's car as we drove toward campus, turning the frost-covered streets of Boston into something almost beautiful.

I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the window, watching bare trees and Victorian brownstones slide past.

If I looked at Daniel, I'd lose my nerve completely. I'd ask him to turn the car around.

*Academic excellence, Emma. Not... not being distracted by beautiful men who happen to be your husband.*

The thought made heat creep up my neck.

"You're very quiet this morning," Daniel observed, his voice carrying that gentle warmth.

I could feel him glancing at me periodically, those brief looks that somehow conveyed more concern than a full conversation.

The classical music playing softly through the speakers should have been soothing. Instead, it just made me more aware of how much I wanted to stay in this cocoon of warmth and safety, driving nowhere in particular, just... being with him.

"Just thinking about the project debrief," I lied, watching my breath fog the window slightly.

My phone buzzed in my lap, a welcome distraction from the tug-of-war in my chest.

I unlocked it to find Instagram notifications—the post I'd made from Portland had finally stopped trending.

I scrolled through my camera roll, looking for something safe to post. A croissant from that café near Notre-Dame. The Seine reflecting city lights. All beautiful, all carefully impersonal.

I set it to "Close Friends only" before I could overthink it, added a simple caption—"City of Light "—and posted it.

My phone buzzed almost immediately with comments.

*"EMMA!!! You look so happy!! "*

*"The lighting on the Seine is gorgeous!"*

*"Emma!! That dress in the silhouette photo is so elegant! Where did you get it??"*

I smiled at the warm responses, then scrolled down—and froze.

Blake had commented, too.

*"Beautiful photos! Speaking of which, the Winter Homecoming is coming up soon—will you be attending? I heard you're with the Alumni Relations Center in student government. Our department is definitely organizing a lecture series, and all the PhD candidates have to participate. If you end up coordinating venue management for any of the sessions, maybe we could grab dinner?"*

I stared at the comment, not knowing how to respond.

The casual familiarity of his tone, as if we were old friends who regularly met up.

"Everything okay?" Daniel's voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I looked up to find him glancing at me with that perceptive concern that missed nothing.

"Oh, um..." I hesitated, then decided honesty was easier. "The Winter Homecoming is coming up soon. A friend mentioned that the Medical School is organizing a lecture series."

I paused, then asked without really thinking, "Will you... be there?"

Daniel's expression remained neutral. "Probably not. It's not my university, after all."

"Right." I nodded quickly, feeling foolish for even asking. "Of course. That makes sense."

*Why would he come to a BU event when he teaches at Harvard?*

Still, I couldn't quite shake the small flutter of disappointment in my chest. Another missed opportunity to see him.

The light turned green. Daniel's hand found mine across the center console, his thumb tracing gentle circles over my knuckles. "Did you want me to go?"

The question was soft, genuinely curious, without any hint of teasing.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"Emma." His thumb stilled against my skin. "Talk to me."

"I just..." I took a breath, feeling foolish. "I wanted to see you. Teaching, I mean. Honestly. It's become kind of an obsession."

There. I'd said it. I'd admitted to having what was essentially an academic crush on my own husband's professional persona.

When I finally dared to look at him, Daniel's expression had softened into something. The morning light caught the edge of his profile, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the slight curve of his lips.

The car rolled to a gentle stop. We'd arrived.

Daniel put the car in park, then turned to me with casual curiosity. "How did you know about the Medical School lecture series?"

"Oh, Blake mentioned it," I said, pulling my phone out to show him the Instagram comment. "You remember him, right? The one who brought me those research materials last time—"

I didn't get to finish.

Daniel's hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair as he pulled me toward him. His mouth captured mine in a kiss that was anything but gentle—possessive, claiming, thorough enough to make my thoughts scatter like leaves in wind.

When he finally released me, I was breathless, my lips tingling.

"No," he said quietly, his thumb brushing along my jaw. "Don't remember him."

He opened the car door and helped me with my luggage, lifting the suitcase from the trunk like it weighed nothing. At the building entrance, he set it down carefully, then turned to me.

His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing across my cheekbone with infinite gentleness.

"Call me if you need anything," he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my forehead.

"Okay," I managed, my voice slightly unsteady, still dazed from that possessive kiss in the car.

As I came back to my senses, I thought: *Well, if he's forgotten Blake, then he's forgotten him. That's that.*

Daniel had so much on his plate. It was perfectly normal for him not to remember every minor detail, every passing acquaintance who'd briefly crossed my path.

I took the suitcase handle from him, my mind wandering as I found myself staring at his elegant fingers resting on the edge of the trunk. Such beautiful hands.

Finally, as I stepped through the entrance of the graduate housing building, I let out a small sigh.

The homecoming. Daniel probably wouldn't come.

If I really wanted to see Professor Prescott in action, I'd have to take matters into my own hands.

*Maybe I could find a way to slip into one of his classes at Harvard Medical. Just once. Just to see.*

The thought made my heart skip with a mixture of nervousness and giddy anticipation.