by Kit Kyndall
She inhaled again before standing up. “They’re lovely. Such an unusual shade of creamy pink, with those pinker streaks at the center.”
“I do love them.” He gently caressed the petal of one of the flowers near him. “Oh, let me show you another place I love.”
Without thought, Jonas took her hand and led her into the maze of roses, knowing exactly the path to take. It really was a virtual maze of hedges and rows of roses and thorns, grown for Miranda’s amusement, but if one knew the right direction, the payoff was a quiet little gazebo located in what was roughly the center of the garden.
He led her there a few moments later, and he was pleased to see she appeared delighted, rather than bored. “This is my favorite place on the grounds, and I come here every day to eat my lunch, rain or shine.”
Her eyes widened. “Even in the winter?”
He shrugged. “There’s not so much for me to do in the winter, so I rarely need to bring a lunch. I do still keep things tidy around here a couple times a week. I just don’t have much call to be here then.”
For the first time since they started talking, she looked disappointed. “That means you aren’t on school grounds the whole year round?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I pop over here and there, but fall and spring are the busiest times for the roses, and that’s when they need me most.”
She started to say something else, but they both stiffened at the first bell ringing to signal breakfast. “Oh, I should go. I haven’t eaten, and I still need to put on my uniform. I do want to spend more time with you… The roses.” Her cheeks flushed a delightful pink that was a similar shade to the Claymore rose.
He grinned at her, not bothering to hide his interest in the idea. “Like I said, rain or shine.” He patted the bench seat beside him.
With a grin and a wave, she darted away. It wasn’t a commitment to lunch, and he had no idea if she would actually follow through and reappear, but he spent the morning tending the roses and thinking about her.
When the bell rang for lunch, he retrieved his lunch box from the gardeners’ shed and hustled to the gazebo. Sometimes, he worked through the lunch period when the bell rang to signal it, and then ate later, if at all. Occasionally, if he was doing something time-consuming, or something that required focus, he would eat at home after skipping food all day, which irritated his mother to no end. Today, he wanted to be at the gazebo during her lunch time, just in case.
He’d barely sat down and started unpacking his lunch when she appeared, carrying a paper sack. She must’ve grabbed something from the cold side instead of bothering with hot food and a tray. She grinned as she bounded up the steps and came to sit beside him. Her leg pressed against his, though there was enough room on the bench to give them both a few more inches. He certainly didn’t want it or suggest she move over. He didn’t scoot over either.
At first, they unpacked their lunches in companionable silence. Before they started eating, she held out her sandwich, sounding almost irritated. “Look at this.”
He looked down at the roast beef, fresh, crusty bread, and white cheese, all topped with lettuce and tomato. When he looked at the tuna salad his mother had made him, his stomach flopped a bit. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing.” She sounded almost angry about that. “It’s just another example of perfection around here. It irritates me that everything has to be so decorative along with perfectly functional—ugh. It just irritates me.”
Jonas couldn’t help a small laugh at Candace’s expense. “You’re irritated because the sandwiches are too nice?”
She glared at him for a moment, and then her expression morphed into one of amusement as she laughed. “It does sound ridiculous, doesn’t it? They must be making up for all the bad people by having perfect sandwiches.”
He took a bite of his tuna salad, which tasted better than it looked. “Are folks really that bad here? Most of the students just ignore me, which is for the best, I’m sure. There’re a couple who are nice though.”
“I’ve met some nice ones too, I have to concede.” She cocked her head. “Who’s nice to you?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I sometimes talk with Lex Sperry. Do you know him?”
She shifted in her seat, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Um, yeah.” She seemed to want to change the subject. “Do you live here on campus?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I commute every day from Farley, which is about thirty minutes from here. My parents own a farm there, and I still live with them.” He winced as he revealed that, realizing it made him sound kind of pathetic.
She frowned slightly. “How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-two, but I still live with my parents for a simple reason, and that’s because Dad can’t handle a lot of the farm chores, so I do most of those for him before I come to work and again in the evenings.”
She leaned closer, letting him support more of her weight. “That must be rough. What time do you wake up in the mornings?”
He grinned. “Oh, usually around four or so. What about you?”
She literally shuddered against him. “I’ve been up that late before, but I never get up that early voluntarily.”
He leaned a little closer to her, enjoying the way her body pressed against his. “You might not make it as a farm girl if you’re not a morning person.”
“A farm girl, huh?” She looked up at him, her head resting lightly against his bicep. “Can’t say I’ve ever given it much thought before, but I’m kind of curious now. What’s it like being a farm girl?”
He shrugged. “You’d have asked my mom that. Being a farm boy, there’s a lot of hard work, manure, and cows.”
Her eyes sparkled, and she was clearly teasing when she said, “You make it sound so glamorous.”
He nodded, trying to seem serious. “It’s a real thrill ride, let me tell you.”
“I’d love for you to show me.” Her voice dropped an octave. “I mean, are you allowed to do that?”
He lifted a brow. “Do what?”
“Can you have me over to your family farm and show me around, or will that get you fired?” She blushed. “I mean, if you wanted to…?”
Jonas paused for a moment before answering, scratching his light beard. “To be truthful, it’s kind of a gray area. The professors are forbidden from having a dating relationship with students, but I’m an independent contractor, so there’s nothing saying I can’t. ‘Course, there’s nothing saying the school can’t cancel my contract if I do.”
She licked her lips, looking apprehensive before her gaze darted around. “Maybe I shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“I doubt anybody knows we’re here. I’m the one who takes care of the roses, and I don’t often see faculty or students out wandering around, especially in the rose maze. I think it’s safe to have lunch together.”
“Is it smart to?” she asked with an arched brow. She her head tipped up slightly, and she licked her lips.
Jonas swore it was an invitation to kiss her, but he couldn’t be certain she realized she was issuing that invitation, or if it was subconscious. He wasn’t going to risk accepting an offer that might not actually exist. Instead, he shifted so he was leaning back a little bit, putting more space between them. “Probably not, but do you want to come back and spend Saturday morning with me? I need to do some work in the greenhouses, and I could use an assistant.”
She fluttered her eyes at him for a moment as she leaned back. “Is that a date, Jonas?”
He gave a self-deprecating laughed. “Even I’m not so backward as to invite a girl to dig around in the greenhouse soil and call it a date. Let’s just call it a precursor.”
She grinned at him. “In that case, I accept your invitation for a precursor to a date.”
After that, talk settled on more mundane things, and though he was aware of carrying on a conversation, most of his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of her, evaluating the risk to his posit
ion. He loved the roses, and he loved BriarEdge, but he couldn’t see letting a chance at getting to know Candace better pass by, even if it came with the risk of losing what he’d worked for here at the school.
Chapter Twelve
She wasn’t really paying attention as she returned to school a few minutes before the lunch bell was due to ring. Jonas filled her thoughts, along with anticipation of the precursor of a date that was coming up Saturday morning. She liked him. He was warm and funny, and though he was a simple man in some ways, he certainly wasn’t intellectually.
He’d proven more than capable of carrying on stimulating conversation, but he had a more relaxed viewpoint. Perhaps it was all the time he spent with his beloved roses. Whatever it was, she couldn’t help imagining his fingers petting her as lightly as he had the rose petals earlier that morning.
She was passing one of the greenhouses, almost within sight of the entrance to the building housing her next class, when familiar arms wrapped around her and pulled her close to a hard body. She started struggling as he dragged her into the greenhouse, and she pulled back hard enough that she stumbled when he let go of her after closing the door behind him. That was the only exit, and he was blocking it. She glared at him as she took a cautious step backward. “Let me out of here.”
“Jonas too?” He was scowling. “Are you planning to slut your way through all the men here?”
“You’re so archaic. It’s not slutty to experiment with your sexuality.” She glared at him. “What’s the matter, Dalton? Are you jealous that I’m not willing to slut myself with you?”
He took a step forward, hands fisted at his sides. “Don’t fool yourself. You weren’t pushing me away last night, slut.”
“You’re an asshole.” She lifted her hand, wanting to slap him once more. Only Dalton brought out that reaction in her, and she couldn’t understand it. She wasn’t normally a violent person, and hitting was never her first line of defense, except with him.
He intercepted her hand before she even brought it back far enough to decide if she wanted to try to slap him again. He held roughly to her wrist as he dragged her closer to him, turning her around so that her back pressed against his stomach, and he was able to wrap one of his arms around her to hold her against him. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t like it, and that you don’t want me to kiss you again. Unless you’re just playing a game like your mother?” His lips drifted up her neck, making her shiver. “Is this some kind of seduction scene, where you try to get me on a hook like Hannah used to reel in my father?”
She squirmed against him, trying to get away, but her need to escape was just as much from her reaction to his lips on her neck before they moved to nibbling on her ear as it was to being held by him. “Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t want anything to do with you, Dalton.” Truth be told, she had her hands full with unexpected attractions to three other young men. She certainly didn’t want to add Dalton, her hot-and-cold stepbrother, to the mix.
“You’re lying, but is it to me or yourself?” As he asked, he nipped hard on her ear.
“Screw you.” She gasped and tried to squirm away, realizing as she did that it lifted her skirt higher up her thigh.
He must’ve realized that too, because he put his hand around the tender flesh there and lifted the fabric higher, sliding his hand underneath to stroke near her wet core. “Soon.”
“It wasn’t an invitation.” She was practically dripping with need at the way he held her, which horrified and embarrassed her almost as much as it aroused her. How could she react to him this way, knowing he hated her, and she should hate him? Should? No, she definitely hated him. This was just an aberration she couldn’t explain.
“Stop touching me.” She tried to fight her way free once more, but he tightened his arms further around her. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to stop this right now, Dalton. I’m not interested—”
She broke off with a small cry as he breached the side of her panties, his fingers stroking where no boy had ever touched her. She tried to wiggle away from him once more, but all that did was inflame the swollen flesh between her thighs, and she whimpered with the need to escape—what he was doing, and how she was feeling. “I hate this.” Were the words to convince him or her? She didn’t know.
“So wet.” He dipped his fingers deeper inside her, pressing lightly in and out of her opening before moving them upward to glide around her clit. “Do you really hate being touched by me? That’s what you’re claiming, but your body says something completely different.”
“That was for Jonas,” she said in anger.
He growled low in his throat and shook her for a moment before he stilled. She could feel him breathing deeply against her, and he exhaled a moment later. His hold was still strong, but he seemed to relax, at least partially. “Liar. This is all for me.” He cupped her mound in his hand, squeezing almost hard enough to be painful as he ground his palm against her clit. “Keep it that way.”
“You must be out of your mind. You hate me, and I hate you. This isn’t happening.”
He chuckled, switching positions so that his hands held her hips, and her skirt flipped up above her waist. A moment later, the bulge of his cock through his pants pressed against the thin barrier of her panties, revealing to her just how much Dalton wanted her, even if he really did hate her. “This is going to happen, and you know it. Hate or not, we both want it.”
She managed to catch him off-guard by stepping on his foot and jerking herself free. She slid past him, barely clearing his arm as he reached for her. She almost slammed into the door, managing to stop at the last moment as she wrenched it open and dashed through. She ran until she was close to the entrance of the school, and there were too many people around for Dalton to try to grab her. She wanted to tell herself she’d managed to escape, but she was certain instead that he’d been the one to let her go.
She was disgusted to feel some disappointment in that. She was even more disgusted by how turned on she was. Sitting beside Jonas had certainly excited her, but she’d also gotten aroused by Dalton’s hateful touch. She should be incapable of responding to him in any way besides rage or hatred.
How could he do that to her? Didn’t her hormones have a lick of sense? Just because he was perfection, it didn’t mean he was perfect for her. He was the last mistake she should ever make, and she had to keep that in mind.
She was still shaking when she entered the building, intent on visiting the bathroom. As she approached, Lex was coming from the opposite way, and she almost ran the last few feet to duck into the ladies’ room to avoid him. Only knowing that would lead to awkward questions kept her from doing so. She tried to pin on a carefree smile as he reached her, but she must not have been very successful, judging from the concern in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
She gave a laugh that was stilted and obviously false. “Nothing. Why do you think something’s wrong?”
He frowned. “Because I have eyes, and it’s clear that something is upsetting you. What is it?” He seemed protective. When he held out an arm to her, she snuggled against him, taking a bit of his strength to bolster her own.
When she felt like she could, she stepped back, much calmer. “Just Dalton. He’s toying with me. He definitely wants me to quit BriarEdge and run home.” She was starting to suspect there was a lot more to his harassment than just wanting her out of his school, but she didn’t feel free enough to share that with Lex, especially after she’d kissed him the night before.
That brought a new round of guilt, and she looked away from him as she remembered he wasn’t the only man around the campus who interested her. It wasn’t like she thought of the others when she was with him, or vice versa, but she knew it wasn’t fair to spend time with the men who made her heart race without telling them that.
Dalton was excluded from that category, of course. She was just confused and hormonal when it came to him, and she absolutely was not attracted to
him, and there was no way in hell she’d ever want a relationship with Dalton Westerly.
“I’ll talk to him,” said Lex with an air of determination.
She frowned. “That’s probably not a good idea. I don’t want you to get hurt, and I don’t want anybody to get in trouble.”
He laughed. “Give me some credit that I might take him down, Candace, but I promise I won’t fight with him. I’ll only tell him to lay off you. Maybe he’ll actually listen.”
She couldn’t help a snort as she took his hand when he offered it, walking with him toward math. Just the thought made her stomach clench with dread, and she bolstered herself for another round of Suzanne’s clear hostility and Dalton’s slightly more subtle torture.
It was a surprise when she entered the math room a couple of moments later and found a substitute. She had no idea why Suzanne was missing a day of school already, but she didn’t care. She considered it a glorious reprieve and managed to grab a desk surrounded by students, with no other seats free in the vicinity.
Dalton walked into the class and saw that, his lips tightening with irritation. His annoyance pleased her, but she didn’t reveal it. She didn’t want to taunt him and risk having any more of his attention focused on her. She wasn’t certain she could withstand that or resist the dark desires he inspired.
Chapter Thirteen
Already in an emotionally fragile state from her confrontation with Dalton, Candace was driven to the point of tears when she opened the room to her dorm and saw her side of the space had been ransacked. She stepped inside with a small whimper she barely stifled. Uncertain who her tormentor was, she didn’t want to give them the pleasure of seeing her upset.
When she walked deeper into the room, she realized the room was more than ransacked. Someone had gone out of their way to destroy as many of her things as possible, including her bedding, mattress, and pillow. Clothes were scattered around the room, and some had been cut up. It looked like someone who really hated her had taken out all his rage in the process.
