“Nice try, Dad.”
Crandall scowled. “Can’t blame a man for wanting to see his only son happily married off while he’s still around to witness it. And while we’re on the subject, I wouldn’t mind having some noisy grandchildren running up and down these lands, either.”
Caleb couldn’t help chuckling. “You’re getting sentimental in your old age,” he drawled, but his thoughts had strayed, inexorably, to Daniela Moreau.
Earlier that day, he’d been working in the offices of the Law Journal, which were housed in the library, when he’d glanced out the window and seen Daniela charging toward the building, looking mad enough to spit nails. Curious, he’d paused in his task to watch her, wondering who, or what, had made her so angry. He’d been sorely tempted to go to her—just to find out if everything was all right, he told himself. It had taken sheer willpower to stay right where he was. But his concentration was shot, knowing she was in the same building. Finally, when he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d packed up his stuff and left campus, driving until he found himself on the way to his father’s Hill Country ranch.
He’d spent the whole ride alternately thinking about her, and calling himself all kinds of a damned fool for letting her get under his skin so easily. In the five years he’d been teaching, this was the first time he’d ever been so affected by a student. Sure, there had been a few beautiful girls whose sultry smiles had made him wonder how anyone could possibly maintain a celibate lifestyle. But he’d never been tempted to cross the line with any of them. His will where temptresses were concerned had always been strong, if not ironclad.
Until now.
Until Daniela Moreau stepped through the door of his classroom on Monday morning, shattering all precedents. Just being around her was like being trapped in a seductive spider’s web, sticky and warm and exciting, but infinitely dangerous. Caleb was determined to keep himself from being ensnared, no matter how enticing this particular temptress proved to be.
Chapter 9
“You’re going where?”
“You heard me. I’m going to Houston to visit your Aunt Phyllis.”
Daniela frowned into her cell phone. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Mom. You’re recovering from the flu. Less than a week ago you were sick as a dog and bedridden, and now you’re talking about traveling to Houston?”
“First of all,” came the indignant response, “stop referring to Houston as if it’s on the other side of the country. It’s two and a half hours away. Second of all, you don’t have to keep reminding me how sick I was. I’m all better now, as you’ve seen with your own two eyes. Third, I am not a child, and I would appreciate not being treated like one.”
“Sorry,” Daniela mumbled, suitably chastened. She threw a surreptitious glance around the scenic courtyard bustling with students, then lowered her voice. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Mom. I’m just a little worried about you, that’s all. What if you get sick again?”
“Then Phyllis will take care of me,” Pamela said blithely. “Considering she used to look after me when we were growing up, I think she’s got a bit more experience than you do.”
“Be that as it may,” said Daniela, striving for patience, “I still don’t understand the sudden urgency to visit your sister. You didn’t say a thing about this last night over dinner.” She paused, her frown deepening. “Is Aunt Phyllis sick?”
“No, darling, she’s not sick. But when you get to be our age, you don’t take anything for granted, least of all time. I haven’t seen your aunt since last Christmas. I miss her, and I’d like to see her again. Is something wrong with that?”
“Of course not. But if you’ll just wait until tomorrow, I can drive you myself.”
“It’s not necessary. Besides, you need to use your weekends to study and get your coursework done. Deacon Hubbard has offered to let me catch a ride with him to Houston, since he has to be there for a conference. He’ll bring me back with him next Saturday.”
A slow, knowing grin spread across Daniela’s face. “Deacon Hubbard, huh?”
“Don’t you go taking that sly tone with me, young lady. I’m not one of your little chit-chat girlfriends. Deacon Hubbard is taking me to Houston, and that’s all I’m going to say about the matter. We’re leaving in an hour, so I won’t be here when you get back from class. I wanted to call and let you know.” Her tone softened. “Take care of yourself, you hear? You didn’t seem like yourself last night. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind with law school, but everything’s going to work out just fine, you’ll see.”
Daniela smiled into the phone. “Call me when you arrive in Houston, and give Aunt Phyllis my love.”
She flipped her cell phone shut and tucked it inside her backpack, then rose from the stone bench and headed toward the library to meet her study group.
Before making her way to the rooftop terrace where they awaited her, she stopped first in one of the reading rooms to search for a book she needed for her torts class. She wandered down rows of mahogany-paneled bookcases filled with leather-bound tomes before finally locating the right aisle.
Unfortunately, it was already occupied. By none other than Caleb Thorne.
She felt a fresh spurt of anger, though she’d just spent the past hour in his class trying her best to pretend what he did in his private life mattered not one iota to her.
Squaring her shoulders determinedly, she started down the aisle, scanning thick leather spines as she went, praying she would find what she needed before she reached him.
No such luck.
“Professor Thorne,” she greeted him, as if she’d just noticed him standing there.
He barely glanced up from the book he’d been thumbing through. “Miss Moreau,” he murmured.
Was it just her imagination, or was there an edge to his deep voice?
“Excuse me,” she said, hitching her chin toward a segment of books at his midsection.
He stepped aside, but not by much.
Biting back a sigh of irritation, Daniela moved in beside him and knelt in front of the bookcase. She ran her fingers over the spines until she found the volume she was looking for, pulling it off the shelf and cracking it open.
“Is everything all right?” Caleb asked without looking up from his book. “You left rather abruptly after class.”
She felt a surge of feminine satisfaction to know he’d been watching her. “Everything’s fine,” she told him. “I had to take a personal call.”
Let him think it had been her boyfriend, she mused. Let him care.
His next query, nonchalantly posed, brought a tiny, triumphant smile to her lips. “Nothing dire, I hope?”
“Mmm, I guess that depends on your perspective,” she all but purred, and let her gaze deliberately wander up the muscular length of his denim-clad legs, past the impressive broadness of his chest, over the strong column of his throat and the hard line of his jaw, to his unsmiling, sensuous mouth.
She allowed her gaze to linger there for a moment before lifting her eyes to meet his, shivering at the piercing intensity in those dark, magnificent pools. “You know how it is,” she murmured silkily.
His jaw tightened. “You might want to make your boyfriend aware of the hours you’re in class,” he said in a voice edged in steel.
Daniela swallowed another smile. “Yes, sir,” she promised sweetly. She thumbed through the contents of her book a minute longer, then decided she’d better go find her study mates before they came looking for her.
As she began to straighten from her crouching position, Caleb moved at the same time, reaching around her to return his book to the shelf. The sudden shift was uncalculated.
And potent.
Without warning Daniela found her back flush against the solid warmth of his body.
She looked over her shoulder at him, and their eyes met. She felt his body tense, felt the tremor of response in her own. Her pulse quickened, her breasts tingled.
As she slowly rose to her
full height, the resulting friction between their bodies was so charged, so intense, that she nearly moaned aloud.
Caleb stepped back from her, his handsome face an impenetrable mask.
Suddenly the aisle seemed too narrow, the space too confining. They held each other in a locked gaze for a long, tense moment. Then, without a word, Daniela turned on legs that shook and beat a hasty retreat.
Caleb stood watching as Daniela walked away from him as quickly as if the devil were on her heels. And maybe he was. God knows there was nothing saintly about the thoughts racing through Caleb’s mind, or the raw hunger rampaging through his body. How could something as simple and fleeting as the accidental brush of their bodies wreak such havoc on his senses? When he’d unexpectedly found himself pressed against Daniela’s lush body, the temptation, the want, stunned him. Her eyes, at once starkly innocent and boldly alluring, had bewitched him. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move. Staring at her slightly parted lips, he’d been struck with a fierce urge to kiss her, to plunge his tongue into the sweet depths of her mouth, to devour her. As she’d slowly risen to her feet, the unhurried pace of the movement had intensified his awareness of the soft, dangerous curves of her body. He’d wanted nothing more than to grab her by the waist and crush himself against the ripe swell of her buttocks.
Shaken, Caleb took a deep breath that burned in his lungs. As he blinked, his surroundings slowly came back into focus. He was in the library, for God’s sake. He’d been on the verge of seducing one of his students in the library, where at any moment another student, or one of his colleagues, could have stumbled upon them.
Caleb swore under his breath, filled with shame and self-loathing.
Somehow, some way, he had to resist this forbidden craving he had for Daniela Moreau, before his slick grasp on control slipped away completely.
If it wasn’t already too late.
Daniela slid a tube of deep-red lipstick over her lips and finger-combed her glossy black curls before turning away from the mirror. As she bent to retrieve a pair of strappy high-heeled sandals from the floor, she felt the onset of a migraine behind her eyelids. For just a moment she wished she could crawl into bed and sleep it off, both the headache and the growing fatigue that had dogged her all afternoon. But she’d promised April that she would attend tonight’s art exhibit at the Blue Star, where some of April’s photography would be on display for the first time ever. As the girl had spoken of little else during their study session that morning, Daniela would have felt like an ogre if she didn’t make an appearance.
Besides, she needed a diversion, something to get her mind off the library encounter with Caleb Thorne. It was all she’d thought about for the rest of the day, torturing herself with mental images of being pinned to the bookcase while he kissed her hungrily, his strong, capable hands roaming across her body until she arched against him in mindless surrender.
No wonder she felt so hot and bothered.
Daniela slipped on her sandals, swallowed two aspirin, then grabbed her black clutch purse and left the house. It was a mild summer evening, perfect for the five-minute stroll to her destination.
The Blue Star Arts Complex was nestled on the outskirts of the historic King William District, and boasted an eclectic cluster of old warehouse buildings that were divided into galleries, artists’ performance spaces, design offices and studio apartments. The Blue Star’s most popular event was First Friday, a community-wide art walk held the first Friday of every month that drew crowds from all over San Antonio for art openings, theater productions, shopping and dining. Rain or shine the event was held, which meant that every so often the turnout was low, as people opted for some other form of nighttime entertainment, knowing that First Friday would be there next month, like an ever-faithful lover.
Such was the case this evening, Daniela noted as she drew near to the brightly lit complex. The parking lot was only half-full, though it was well past seven o’clock. On a busy night, the valets were usually turning motorists away by six. Lively jazz music beckoned to visitors from the Blue Star Brewing Company, a charming pub located in what was once an old beer storage warehouse.
Passing the brewery, Daniela climbed a steep set of metal stairs to reach the gallery dedicated to showcasing the works of new and emerging artists. Because she was a regular at First Friday, she did not flinch at the stifling heat that greeted her upon entering the building.
At the end of the long corridor and wearing a chic black pantsuit, April stood at the entrance to one of the small exhibit rooms, talking animatedly to a middle-aged white couple dressed for a night on the town. Her grin widened at the sight of Daniela.
Giving the girl a wink, Daniela stepped into the narrow confines of the room and wandered from one mounted photograph to the next while she waited for April to finish with her customers. She was pleasantly surprised by what she saw on display, rich candids that captured the essence of San Antonio. A wide shot of a tourist-packed river barge drifting lazily down the sun-dappled Riverwalk; a close-up revealing the crumbling, faded glory of the Alamo; a festively attired mariachi band; a vibrant blanketing of wildflowers along a Texas highway; the historic Majestic Theatre framed against a glittering night skyline.
She turned as April approached, her dark eyes shimmering with excitement. “I made my first sale!” she squealed, throwing her arms around Daniela’s neck.
Daniela laughed, hugging her back. “Oh, April, that’s wonderful!”
The girl drew away on a breathless giggle. “I was so worried that I wouldn’t sell anything,” she confessed.
“I don’t know why. You’re very talented. These photos are amazing, every last one of them.”
April beamed. “Do you really think so?”
“I know so. You have a real eye, April.”
“Thanks, Daniela.” The girl’s proud gaze swept across the photos displayed around the room. “I see life in frames, captured in the blink of an eye for all eternity.”
Daniela grinned. “Hey, that’s pretty deep, Kwan. Are you sure you want to become a lawyer?”
April’s expression clouded. “I don’t really have much of a choice,” she said somewhat wistfully. “Everyone in my family expects me to become an attorney. The day I graduate from law school will probably be the first time I ever see my father cry. But don’t worry,” she added quickly at the concerned look on Daniela’s face, “I’ve got a plan. I’ll use my salary as a lawyer to support my photography habit until someday my work is on exhibit at the Guggenheim, and then I can quit the day job and travel around the world.”
Daniela chuckled. “Sounds like a plan, kiddo. In the meantime, allow me to do my part to hasten those plans along. I want to buy the Majestic, and the photo with the hauntingly beautiful Native American mother and child.”
Blinking back tears, April wrapped her in another tight hug. “Thank you so much, Daniela,” she whispered fervently.
While April rang up her purchases, Daniela wandered around the corner to check out the works of other exhibiting artists. When she returned, she discovered that April had lured two new potential customers.
Daniela’s heart sank when she recognized the couple: Caleb Thorne and Shara Adler.
Shara was elegantly coiffed and resplendent in a silk sheath dress that accentuated the sleek curves of her body, but it was Caleb who drew Daniela’s eye. He was dark and devastatingly handsome in a black polo shirt that molded the powerful contours of his broad chest, and expensively tailored charcoal trousers that hung low on his trim waist and rode his long legs in a way that would make Giorgio Armani weep with pride. He exuded such raw magnetism and sex appeal that it was all Daniela could do to keep from rushing over and pouncing on him.
April saw her and waved her over excitedly. “Daniela, look who’s here! Not one, but two of our law school professors!”
Daniela wanted to disappear through the floor as both Caleb and Shara turned to watch her slow approach. While Shara’s eyes narrowed in d
ispleasure, Caleb’s impassive expression betrayed no emotion.
Daniela forced herself to smile civilly at each of them. “Good evening.”
Caleb inclined his head. “Miss Moreau.”
Shara linked her arm through his, staking her claim. Her cool, measuring gaze ran the length of Daniela, taking in the simple black cocktail dress that flared slightly above her knees and the black sandals with four-inch stiletto heels. “You look nice, Miss Moreau,” she said, a malicious gleam in her amber eyes. “Hot date tonight?”
“Afraid not,” Daniela murmured. “You?”
Shara’s laugh had all the warmth of a polar ice cap. She cast a demure look at Caleb beneath her lashes. “We shall see.”
Cheerfully oblivious to any undercurrents between the threesome, April said to Daniela, “I was just thanking Professor Thorne for coming out tonight. After class today I was telling him about my photography exhibit. I had no idea he would actually show up.”
Humor threaded Caleb’s deep voice as he said, “I think you mentioned the time and location at least three times during our conversation.”
April grinned unabashedly. “Never underestimate the power of subliminal messaging.”
Caleb chuckled, drawing away from Shara and stepping inside the room. “Why don’t you come talk to me about your work? Sell me something.”
“With pleasure,” April said, eagerly leading him to the first wall.
Daniela started to follow, when Shara’s low, mocking voice stopped her. “You really do look nice tonight, Miss Moreau. I like that dress—Chanel, isn’t it?” At Daniela’s brief nod, her lips curled derisively. “A bit of a change from your usual jeans-and-miniskirt look, isn’t it?”
A Legal Affair Page 9
