by Joanne Rock
Sweat beaded on his forehead as Maddy set down her basket. He caught another glimpse of its provocative contents and swallowed. Hard.
Before she could reach for anything titillating, Cal nudged his sister in front of him.
"Allison knows more about that stuff than me." Cal knew Maddy wouldn't show anything too suggestive to his sixteen-year-old sister.
Madeline frowned. "But I wanted to see what you—"
"Really, she does. Did I mention she is a certified genius?" He squeezed his sister's shoulders with what he hoped looked like brotherly affection and not a controlled urge to strangle her.
Obviously the time had come to ditch his sister. There was no way Cal could view Madeline's slinky purchases without breaking his vow to live a more circumspect life. With the black silk and yesterday's torrid proposal both working against him, Cal was about ten seconds away from spiriting Madeline out of the store and cashing in on her offer to fire up the sheets.
What else could a guy do besides cut his losses and run? Maybe Maddy would be forced to make more conservative choices with his sister in tow. Although Cal had the feeling that even Maddy in white cotton would have him sinking to his knees singing a hallelujah chorus. He edged closer to the door. "I, uh, parked at the main entrance, Allison, just come on out when you ladies finish up here."
"But—" Madeline took a step toward him.
"See you soon, Maddy," he rushed on, flashing her a forced grin and a wave as he backed out the door.
He pretended to not hear when his sister called to him.
He waited alone in his car for a good half hour before his breathing returned to normal. When Allison finally appeared at the car door, he had no interest in hearing what the two women might have discussed. He flicked on the radio to avoid a conversation that might induce further torturous thoughts.
As he started the car and headed home, Cal was plagued by images of Madeline holding the black panties between her delicate fingertips. The worst part was that Cal knew she wasn't buying that scrap of lace for him.
Apparently, Maddy's plan to gain some mating rituals experience would now target another guy. The lingerie that Cal had spied would be used to seduce someone else. Cal would never have the pleasure of seeing Madeline unbutton her bulky men's shirt to reveal the skinny black straps of a lace bra. That satisfaction would be given to another man. The thought caused his gut to twist.
After his hellish experience today, Cal now had one more reason to hate shopping malls. From now on, Allison would have to find another way home from her favorite haunt, because Cal wasn't venturing anywhere near the sight of black satin for a long time.
* * *
Chapter 3
« ^ »
The transition from wallflower to bombshell wasn't going to be easy, but Madeline thought if her eyelashes could only support a few more coats of mascara, she might have a fighting chance.
At very least, her red dress fit the bombshell mode. What would Cal say if he could see her now decked in the sexiest thing she'd ever owned? Would he be so quick to refuse her?
She'd hoped to get his opinion on the dress at the mall, but he'd been too busy running from her to look at it.
Madeline stepped back from the full-length mirror in the women's locker room. The university gym was deserted on Friday nights, making it a perfect place for her transformation. Because she hadn't really wanted to prance around her neighborhood in the raw silk sheath, she'd decided to get ready for her evening out at work. She'd brought her new outfit and a shopping bag full of makeup to school this morning, and she'd spent the past hour attempting to follow all the instructions the woman at the cosmetic counter had given her.
She stared at her image critically, trying to decide if her eyeliner made her eyes look lopsided, when the door to the locker room squeaked.
Thank goodness. Help had arrived.
The cavalry appeared in the form of Dr. Rose Marie Blakely. The six-foot-tall, imposing sociology department chair met Madeline's gaze in the mirror's reflection.
"Holy Toledo, Maddy, what happened to you?" Rose Marie yanked Madeline around to look at her firsthand. "I can't decide if you're going for Oscar Night glamour or the Whore of Babylon look."
Although Rose Marie was twenty years older than Madeline and as uninhibited as Madeline was guarded, the women had formed a solid friendship in Madeline's years at U of L. They frequently ate lunch together and stayed late at the university talking about work.
"The dress is killer," Rose Marie observed, flipping her long blond hair over her shoulder as she nodded approval at the short sheath with tiny rhinestone buckles at the waist. She walked in a precise circle around Madeline, her uncommon height and girth giving her the look of a fabled Amazon warrior. "But despite the makeup, you look like you haven't slept in days."
Hmm. Madeline had rather hoped she looked a step above insomniac. After Cal Turner had turned her down flat, she'd decided she wouldn't waste any more years stuck inside her haphazard dress and hiding behind her glasses. She'd been living in the ivory tower too long, sheltered by the academic world she'd called home since her childhood with her single father the professor. Maybe if her mom had stuck around she might have cultivated more in the feminine wiles department.
Maddy frowned. "Not quite. I called you here because I obviously need some help."
She might not be able to coerce Cal into helping her cultivate a more worldly reputation, but with a little effort, she felt sure she could attract another man's notice.
Although she was finding it difficult to work up much enthusiasm for the project now that her target had to be someone other than Cal. Maybe she should forget about experiencing the mating dance and just observe…
No. She would not chicken out just because Cal rejected her. She would prove to him, and herself, that she could do this.
With her dissertation project all but swinging in the gallows, she had to act fast. She couldn't wait around for Cal to gain guardianship of his sister—if that was even his real reason for not going out with her.
If she didn't start changing her reputation in a hurry, the dissertation committee would nix her mating rituals study for good. Then she'd turn into a crusty old academic, researching something boring like literary sociology because she was an uptight prude with the social skills of a robot.
This dissertation was important to her—a departure from her usual staid research projects. For once, she would have the courage to conduct an investigative study that truly interested her.
Dr. Rose stepped closer and ran her fingers beneath Madeline's eye. She peered down at the black goo left on her fingers. "Good Lord, the dark circles are makeup?"
Madeline shrugged, pointing to the bench with her bagful of cosmetic loot. "The saleswoman suggested one of everything, since I didn't have anything to start with."
Rose Marie raised her finely arched eyebrows. "Oh, did she now?" She stepped over to the bench and peered inside the bag. "Vitamin C serum. Revitalizing concealer cream. Eyebrow gel?" Rose Marie pawed through the contents, shaking her head and sending long hair dancing across her floral blazer. "What exactly did you use?"
"A little of everything."
"Everything?"
"I wouldn't have lugged it all around campus, Rose, if I didn't think I had to use it all."
Rose Marie puffed out a martyred sigh and pointed a manicured nail toward the bathroom. "Okay, Maddy. Dig out your oxidizing facial scrub and wash all that stuff off."
Madeline scooped up her cotton robe and a towel and did as she was bid. One didn't question the wisdom of Dr. Rose.
"And remind me to get you a subscription to Cosmo for your birthday," Rose Marie shouted. "I can't believe you've never worn makeup before."
"My father said serious scholars don't wear makeup," Madeline called over the running water. Then, realizing her gaffe as she envisioned Rose Marie's precisely defined red lips, Madeline added, "Of course, he can be a little closed-minded."
By
the time Madeline had banished every trace of her failed makeover, Rose Marie had set up a chair in front of the mirror.
"I'm taking over here, Maddy. Have a seat." Rose Marie burrowed into the cosmetic bag. "But in exchange I want to know exactly what you're up to tonight."
While Rose Marie patted Madeline's face with powder, Madeline kept her story as simple as she could. She omitted her encounter with Cal, of course. There was no sense relating that embarrassing tale.
"So you're going out on the town tonight in pursuit of a man to flaunt around campus … preferably a guy who can't keep his hands off you in public and who can effectively tarnish your reputation."
Madeline squinted to see what Rose Marie did with her little makeup brush. Unfortunately, Madeline could scarcely see beyond her nose without her glasses. "Pretty much."
"Has it occurred to you that maybe you ought to just give the committee time to adjust to the idea of your mating rituals study?" Rose Marie suggested. "Maybe you should wait a few weeks and propose it again."
Madeline shook her head. "I can't risk them turning it down twice. I didn't get involved in sociology so I could study books. I want to study people."
"Personally, I love the concept." Rose Marie flicked a skinny brush across Madeline's eyelid with efficient strokes. "I might be able to help find a more supportive faculty member to sit on your committee, but you know I can't interfere with the committee's eventual decision."
Madeline halted Rose Marie's hand and looked her in the eye. "I would never ask you to."
Nodding, Rose Marie clicked one small compact closed, then opened another. "Okay. But tell me this. Just how are you going to say a graceful good-night to your male prospect tonight when he tries to take you back to his place?"
A little flutter of fear rolled through her. "I hadn't really thought of that." If Cal had accepted her proposal, she wouldn't have to concern herself with fighting off a man. Instead, Cal would be stuck fending off her advances.
"The Commonwealth of Kentucky boasts some fine young men, Maddy, but you can't count on every one of them being a gentleman. You need to be careful." Rose Marie reached for the topknot on Madeline's head and unfastened the scrunchy. "Wow! You look like Morticia."
Madeline eyed her damp hair. "It's sort of flat. I usually just leave it up."
"When you called me for help, you were admitting I'm the expert. Now sit still while I find the blow-dryer and we'll give you some serious glam."
Thirty minutes later Madeline walked out of the gym in her red dress and heels, her long hair swinging a seductive rhythm against her back. Sure, she still had her glasses on, but Rose Marie had assured her she was a knock-out.
Besides, she couldn't watch what was happening around her if she couldn't see. How sexy would it be if she accidentally drank from a flower arrangement, mistaking it for a fruity umbrella drink? Madeline promised herself she would think about getting contacts next week.
She felt different with her hair down … more daring, maybe a little decadent. Rose Marie had ended up putting barely any makeup on her, but she'd spent half an hour blow-drying Madeline's long hair and brushing the ends so they would curl under.
Madeline was just about ready to go out, except that she wanted to retrieve the can of Mace she kept in the desk drawer at her office. Ever since one of the teachers had been assaulted by a student, Madeline had kept the can tucked away just in case. After Rose Marie's warning about ardent gentleman, Madeline decided to take it along for her night on the town.
Certainly her reason for going back to her office didn't have anything to do with the fact that Cal taught a continuing education business class on Friday nights. Or that Madeline would have to walk right by his building.
Okay, maybe a little part of her wished Cal would see her the one time in her life she had ever looked marginally sexy. And it wouldn't hurt to gauge one man's reaction to her appearance before she subjected herself to the larger test of the popular dance club she was planning to hit tonight. Seeing Cal would be like a trial run. A scientific experiment.
Rapidly rationalizing her plan, Maddy slowed outside of Honors Hall and waited for Cal's class to emerge. She paced in front of the stately brick building in the twilight, making sure she remained on the sidewalk so her high heels wouldn't sink into the damp grass.
To distract herself, she thought about how different the University of Louisville looked from Rensselaer Polytedmic Institute, the campus where her father worked which was practically her hometown. Where Rensselaer had been sleek and new, Louisville was traditional and dignified. She loved the mishmash of brick buildings, the flowering trees and the rampant cardinals the school had adopted as its mascot.
The pace was slower here and Madeline appreciated that. Even though she'd worked hard to make a place for herself in the academic world, the environment here wasn't as cutthroat as in her father's realm.
She pushed her glasses up on her nose, belatedly recognizing the telltale sign of nervousness carried over from her youth.
"This is silly," she muttered, annoyed with herself for stalking a guy as if she were a lovelorn teenager.
Despite Cal's playboy reputation, Madeline knew he was a sharp man with a successful business to run and a busy life to manage. He didn't need her and her adolescent schemes taking up his time.
She turned on her heel to leave just as the double doors swung wide and a small troop of students emerged.
Madeline picked up her speed, not an easy task in spike heels. Now that she had talked herself out of her plan, she definitely didn't want to be caught loitering outside Cal's class.
* * *
"Maddy?"
Cal watched the woman in the red dress walk away, wondering if he had dreamed the resemblance to Madeline. He squinted to get a better view of her in the growing dusk.
He hardly ever took note of flashy women anymore, having outgrown that particular preference long ago. He'd worn himself out on the insubstantial type in that year of living hell after his divorce.
But something about this woman had grabbed his attention. There was a familiarity to her efficient little walk, her regal bearing, that sent a message of quiet reserve in spite of her sexy get-up.
"Maddy?" he called her name again. If it had been her, wouldn't she have turned around?
He stepped up the pace, determined to satisfy his curiosity. He didn't think it really could be her. After all, what would the Lady Scholar be doing garbed in come-hither shoes and a dress three inches shy of her knees?
And then he knew. It was Friday night, and Madeline Watson was putting her plan into effect.
Searching for a man to seduce.
Oh, God.
Fury kicked through him, sending his legs into a sprint. He caught her in ten strides. One firm tug on her slender arm caused her to topple off her heels and straight into his arms.
"Oh!" Her breathless gasp would have confirmed her identity, even if his gut instinct hadn't.
For one mind-numbing moment Maddy lingered against him, imprinting her compact curves on his body. Lust mingled with the anger simmering in his veins.
She looked gorgeous. Sexy as hell in her tiny silk dress, she revealed a tantalizing glimpse of skin. She was every inch the temptress, glasses perched on her nose and all. There was something incredibly appealing about a woman in a little red dress who wore glasses.
Her hair swirled around her like a dark sea. The strands shimmered and swayed in the streetlight as she moved, robbing her of her usual reserved look
He used both hands to steady her.
Or to feel her. He couldn't honestly say which.
But his hands fit right into the notch of her waist as if they were meant to be there. The smooth silk of her dress seemed to beg for his touch, but he contented himself with gently smoothing the fabric over her hips.
"Cal." She straightened and stepped away from him. "You startled me."
He took in the dress and the expanse of long leg it revealed. Her shoulde
rs were bared to his gaze, too, exposing golden skin and thin tan lines from a bathing suit. Looking down at her, he glimpsed a tantalizing hint of cleavage and … good Lord. Was that body glitter she had dusted in that particular curve?
The scent of raspberries seemed to emanate from her and he nearly groaned with the torment. He couldn't have been more aroused if she'd strutted by him naked.
Then again…
"Good night, Mr. Turner!" One of his students waved as he jogged by, forcing Cal to recall where they were.
"See you next week," he returned absently.
"I'd better go, too," Maddy announced, spinning away from him.
"No." He anchored her to him by the arm.
"No? What do you mean, no?" She glared up at him with the same mutinous look Allison had given him when he'd taken away her credit card yesterday.
"I mean, not yet. Not until you tell me what you're doing traipsing around campus alone after dark in a dress like that."
She tilted her chin toward him. "I do not traipse."
As another evening class let out around them, Cal heard a low wolf whistle among the crowd. He didn't have to look around him to know the target.
He hustled Madeline toward the parking lot, wishing he had a jacket to toss over her shoulders. "Well, there you have it, gorgeous. You've already collected your first bit of research for your dissertation."
She stumbled along next to him, apparently forgetting to be angry when her intellectual curiosity was piqued. "I have?"
He pressed his advantage and hurried her toward his car while she was distracted. "The wolf whistle is one of the earliest possible steps in a mating process."
"What wolf whistle?" She stopped and peered around her, wide-eyed, as if waiting for wild hounds to emerge from the trees around campus.
"Come on, honey, I'll explain it to you once we get to my car." He couldn't really account for his sudden need to hide her from anyone's eyes but his own. In fact, he wasn't sure he cared to examine his motivation right now. But that didn't stop him from tugging her forward once more.
