Thoroughly Kissed Read Free Page A

leaning against the podium but not stepping behind it. “Since you all seem to be having so much trouble believing that the people who lived a thousand years ago were the same as the rest of us, with the same problems, similar cares and worries, and similar feelings, let’s try to bring their world a little closer, shall we?”
    Even though she was chastising the group, she didn’t seem at all angry. In fact, Michael felt himself being drawn closer to her.
    â€œWe still practice a lot of rituals that began in the Middle Ages,” she said and then she smiled. It seemed as if the entire room had been lit by its own sun. “And frankly, the rituals made a lot more sense back then than they do now.”
    Michael’s hands were shaking. He had never been drawn to a woman by her beauty before, but he couldn’t help himself. She was absolutely, positively mesmerizing.
    â€œFor example,” she said, that smile still playing around her lips, “one of the Suebic tribes worshipped the Mother of the Gods. They wore an emblem to honor that rite—it was the image of wild boars.”
    Half the class tittered nervously. The sound brought Michael back to himself for just a moment. He caught his breath, but couldn’t make himself look away from her.
    She didn’t even seem to notice their reaction. “To them, the boar guaranteed that the worshipper of that goddess would be without fear even if he was surrounded by his enemies. At Yuletide, the warriors made their vows for the coming year on a sacrificial boar. You all continue that practice. You make New Year’s resolutions.”
    A young man in the front of the room said, “You don’t know that the events are tied. You can’t just say—”
    â€œJustin,” she said in a weary tone. “What did I tell you about comments in class?”
    â€œGeez, Professor Lost, I…”
    Michael stiffened. He frowned at the woman, still engaged in conversation with the young man in the front of the room. She looked as young as her students. There was no way that this could be Emma Lost.
    He had expected a middle-aged woman with a narrow mouth that never smiled, and small beady eyes that constantly moved back and forth searching for people who saw through her terrible scholarship. He should have realized that she was tiny and telegenic. After all, he’d been hearing that she made the lecture rounds before she came to the UW, and she was still being called by interviewers as an expert on all things historical.
    â€œMy favorite senseless thing that’s still practiced in this century,” she was saying, “occurs in the spring. Now remember, that medieval people understood the world based only on what they could see.”
    Michael gripped the plastic top of the chair in front of him. She looked so relaxed down there, one ankle crossed behind the other, the microphone held easily in one hand. He was always behind the podium, struggling with notes.
    â€œThere is a bird in England called a lapwing which, for those of you who don’t know, is a plover—”
    The hand of the boy in the front row rose again.
    â€œâ€”which,” she continued with a grin, “for those of you who don’t know is a wading bird—”
    The boy’s hand went down.
    â€œâ€”and it builds a nest, which looks remarkable similar to the scratch of a hare, which for those of you who don’t know, is a rabbit. Because of the similarity in nests, many of the early English believed that rabbits—”
    She paused, waiting for the class to come up with the answer on its own.
    â€œLaid eggs,” Michael whispered.
    â€œLaid eggs,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “And that’s why the Easter bunny lays Easter eggs.”
    Another hand went up. This one belonged to a studious girl who sat in the middle. “Our books mentioned that the word ‘Easter’ came from the pagan