LEARNING CURVES

by Joanne Rock

  Allison toyed with the locket around her neck. "Let's face it. I'm already excelling in school, so I don't need to be stuck in my room all weekend. I only want the privileges that my friends have."

  Her words sounded reasonable enough. But maybe Cal was just overtired. This conversation—this night—had drained him more than an engine overhaul. "And if I give you more freedom, you'll keep up your grades?"

  Nodding, she stepped toward him and clutched his arm. "Just think how well your friend Professor Watson balances her academic studies with her private life. I saw what she bought for this weekend, Cal, and let me tell you, she doesn't spend all her time studying." A flicker of admiration lit Allison's gaze.

  Panic clenched his gut. His sister wanted to emulate Maddy? A few weeks ago he would have thought it a great idea. Now he cursed himself for ever introducing the two of them. If Madeline went out next week to trash her reputation with bad-girl antics, would Allison follow suit?

  "Maybe not, but she studies a lot." That was one of the reasons he'd always admired Maddy. "And when she's not studying, she grades papers and develops her lesson plans."

  Allison plucked at the folds of her skirt and sighed. "Maddy is smart, but she has a life, too. I don't."

  Of all the people for his little sister to choose as a role model, she had to pick Maddy the Ticking Time Bomb, the woman whose inner bad girl was dying to get out.

  He wiped a weary hand across his face and snapped his fingers to the dog. Thank God he could at least count on Duchess to be a stable female in his life.

  "Just give me a few days to think about it, okay?" He scratched the dog's head and worked out a plan in his mind. "I'm sure we'll find a workable compromise."

  Appeased, Allison retrieved her purse and headed up the stairs for bed while Cal went out to the garage to assess the damage on the Thunderbird.

  As he ran his hands over the dented metal and scratched paint, Cal knew there was only one thing for him to do. Monday morning he'd have it out with Maddy. Putting her reputation on the line to make a point to her dissertation committee was a bad idea. Who knew how many students she would be influencing? If Allison noticed the changes in the Lady Scholar, certainly other people would.

  Maybe his plan to show Maddy the nuances of seduction had been selfish. Had he just been giving himself permission to do what he'd longed for all these years? He'd be furious if some two-bit mechanic tried to make the moves on his innocent sister that he'd been contemplating with Maddy.

  He took one last look at his battered car before shutting off the garage light and heading back to the house. He would give Madeline the courtship experience she needed for her mating rituals study, but he wouldn't engage in a physical relationship that could only hurt her in the end.

  Somehow he'd have to convince Maddy to behave herself in public before she wreaked the kind of damage even he couldn't fix.

  * * *

  Madeline hadn't expected she'd need to perform damage control this early into her scheme, but here it was Monday morning and she was already on the receiving end of an outraged telephone call from her father.

  She twisted the telephone cord around her thumb until she had a stack of coils wrapped from knuckle to fingernail, waiting for a break in his tirade about the indignity of professors who traipsed around campus in slinky red dresses.

  Her office mate was teaching a class, so she had the space to herself for the next hour. She transferred grades from her student's papers to her grade book while her father threatened to come to town to talk some sense into her.

  That caught her attention.

  "Daddy, you don't want to come out here this time of year." She had to make sure he stayed safely ensconced on his own campus in upstate New York. Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute had been his professional domain and home turf since she was a child—the extent of his world except for the few colleges he visited for conferences and speaking engagements. "Louisville puts on a tiny physics conference anyway. You know that."

  Her father would go berserk if he discovered she was trying to change her pristine reputation. Maybe because she was his only child, her father had high academic and personal expectations for her. Even a thousand miles away, the man knew if she was wavering from her course.

  Of course, it helped that he had physics cronies at every major college in the U.S. and beyond. Apparently one of his scientist friends had been on campus Friday night to witness her scene with Cal and note all the details of her red dress.

  She didn't think her father would really make good on his threat to visit her this weekend, but just the thought filled her with dread. She loved her dad, but sometimes she feared she disappointed him by not being as brilliant as he'd always been.

  "Look, Dad, I have a class in five minutes," she lied, hoping to throw him off the scent. "The red dress was part of a sociology experiment, so don't worry about it."

  At the sound of a discreet cough coming from the corridor, Madeline turned around.

  She found the object of her experiment framed in her office door.

  Lord, but Cal Turner's body deserved framing. She smiled and waved him in, hoping she could hide her nervousness after thinking about him and his offer all weekend.

  "Dad, I've got to go now, but don't worry about me. I'll be fine. And you don't need to make a trip, I promise." She hustled her father off the phone, easing her conscience by telling herself she'd write another research paper soon to placate him, then turned to greet Cal.

  "Hi." Her mind failed to come up with anything better on short notice.

  "Hey, gorgeous." He pointed toward the chair opposite her. "You mind if I sit for a minute?"

  Her heart rate kicked up as his knee brushed hers in the narrow space. He didn't teach today, and he normally never ventured on campus before five o'clock. Had he come to give her the private lessons they'd discussed?

  He sank into the chair and leaned back, dominating her small office with his outstretched legs. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she guessed he must be on his way to the garage. Madeline missed seeing him like this—the way he looked whenever she took her car in for service.

  Hair still damp from his shower, he surveyed her with moody hazel eyes.

  "Is everything all right?" She leaned closer, wondering if her new contact lenses were playing tricks on her. Cal had always seemed so carefree.

  "So the red dress was just an experiment?" he asked, ignoring her question. He was watching her in a disconcerting way this morning, his direct gaze at odds with the playful man she'd known over the years.

  She shrugged, unable to read his mood. "My dad's spies reported back to him already. He wants to come to the physics conference this weekend and check up on me for himself."

  He nodded. "He'll be upset if he figures out what you are up to?"

  "He just wants me to succeed in my field. He wouldn't think a dissertation on mating rituals was the best way to do that." Her father had always been a traditionalist, a man who played by the rules. Maddy was only just now beginning to realize she longed to break a few rules, to occasionally please herself instead of everyone else.

  Cal leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, putting him a foot away from her. She wondered if he had any idea how his mere presence affected her.

  "Do you think maybe you should just forget this whole scheme, Maddy?"

  "Forget it?" Her voice cracked just a little, so she cleared her throat. "Why? Have you changed your mind?"

  She held her breath, understanding for the first time how badly she wanted Cal Turner to be The One—the man to whom she lost her virginity.

  He clamped one hand around each of her armrests and pulled her wheeled office chair over to his. "I'm going to court you like you've never been courted in your life, Madeline Watson. I meant, do you think you ought to skip the public display portion of your plan?"

  "Absolutely not." Thanking the fates that Cal wasn't going to renege on their deal, she turned away from him to fish in her drawer for a
contraband piece of bubble gum. She would need it for this conversation. "I've waited four years to do the kind of sociology projects I want to do and I'm not waiting any longer."

  Snagging a pack of watermelon-flavored gum, she tossed half a piece in her mouth and offered one to Cal. He shook his head.

  "Then why don't you just start pulling your resources together and do a thorough outline of your research strategies instead? You're a scholastic dynamo, woman." He gestured toward the mountain of books lining her walls. "You'll knock their socks off with a loaded proposal they can't turn down."

  "They can turn it down, Cal. They already know I'm capable of putting together the paper trail." She straightened the items on her desk, trying to not reveal how much it had bothered her to have her dream project rejected. "What they don't know is whether or not I have the experience to add the human element to this study. I think they envision me as a sort of automaton."

  Cal leaned back in his chair. "What makes you say that?"

  "Isn't that how everybody sees me? I'm the department workhorse with no real passion or personality." She blew a bubble and popped it, wondering if Cal saw her that way, too. His detached manner worried her. "But I'm tired of it. I'm not living for my dad's approval anymore."

  Cal shook his head. "Two rebel women in one week. I can't believe this."

  She frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "Allison is going rogue on me, too. She absconded with one of my cars on Friday night and had a little fender bender."

  "Is she okay?" Allison Turner had been through enough the past few months.

  "She's fine, but she's ready to throw off the shackles of my expectations and live it up on the weekends now." Cal steepled his fingers and tapped them against his chin. "In fact, she named you as her inspiration to let loose."

  "I'm sorry, Cat." Guilt stabbed her. She hadn't meant to share her penchant for a new lifestyle with anyone, least of all such an impressionable young woman as Allison. "I don't know why—"

  "Maybe it had something to do with your lingerie choices at the mall last week," Cal volunteered, frustration lacing his words.

  "I assure you, I concealed my lingerie choices from your sixteen-year-old sister." Madeline bristled. She had that much sense at least.

  His brow furrowed. "Then what purchase did you show her after I left the store?"

  "The red dress, of course." How could men be so obtuse? Then his answer ducked into place in her head. "But that might be why Allison thinks I'm hip all of a sudden. She loved the red dress."

  Cal groaned. "Oh, great. The social services department will be really impressed with the home I provide for my sister when she starts parading around town in scarlet silk."

  Madeline couldn't suppress a smile, much as she empathized with Cal's predicament. "It beats parading around in black lace."

  "Depends who's wearing it." He met her gaze and held it, looking for all the world as though he knew exactly what she was wearing beneath her bulky shirt and cotton skirt.

  "I might be wearing it if I find myself on the receiving end of a lesson in human mating rituals." A split second after the sentiment left her lips, Madeline wanted to call it back. She felt the flush start at her toes and move on to blister her whole body with heat.

  Cal's gaze smoldered as it landed on her breasts. Although she remained well concealed beneath her shirt, she guessed she was currently very bare in his mind.

  The notion thrilled her.

  He shifted closer, surrounding her thighs with his in the narrow office. "Maddy, you don't want to tease me with black lace."

  "Give me one good reason why."

  "You'll definitely lose your shot at tenure when all of Fultz Hall hears you scream with the orgasm I give you."

  * * *

  Chapter 7

  « ^ »

  Every nerve ending screamed along with his threat, and he hadn't even touched her. Madeline's heart pummeled her chest, flooding her limbs with heat. She couldn't have nudged a word past her lips even if she had anything to say.

  Cal looked almost as shocked at his words as she felt. His shallow, quick breaths seemed to pace her own.

  He eased his chair back and stood. "I'm going to leave now before I do something we both regret. Maybe we can discuss this tomorrow, if you're free after class for date number two."

  She nodded, watching him step through the door and into the hall.

  "Good. I'll pick you up at nine." He leaned through the door to smile at her one more time. "And, Maddy?"

  "Hmm?" The sound caught in her throat, rusty and awkward. She stared at his muscular forearm braced on the door frame.

  "When the day comes that you find yourself on the receiving end of a lesson in mating rituals…" He lowered his voice another notch. "Let's skip the black lace altogether."

  Madeline stared at the entrance Cal had just vacated, waiting for her breath to return. She remembered this feeling from elementary school—that moment you fell flat on your back from the monkey bars and knocked the wind clear out of your chest.

  Only in elementary school there were no hormones or hard-bodied mechanics to complicate matters.

  Her breathing had barely resumed when an efficient feminine voice sounded at the door.

  "Knock, knock?"

  Madeline shook herself in a vain attempt to ward off the leftover sizzle from Cal's visit. She tried to smile at Rose Marie, who stood at the door with a thin file folder in hand.

  "Come on in."

  Rose Marie edged her way into the room. "What's the matter, Maddy? Those flushed cheeks make you look like a guilty teenager caught in the act."

  Madeline scooped her grade book off the desk and fanned herself. Rose Marie had no idea how dead-on her guess had nearly been. "Just hot in here, I think."

  Rose Marie shrugged and continued to study Madeline. "You ditched the glasses?" She lifted Madeline's face to the light.

  "What do you think?" Madeline couldn't quite get used to her new contact lenses, comfortable though they might be. She'd always liked the intelligent look of glasses, plus they gave her something to hide behind. She felt more exposed today wearing her contacts than she had on Friday night when she'd worn her red dress.

  "I never knew you had such pretty eyes, but…"

  "What?"

  "I guess I'm just used to seeing you with glasses. It doesn't seem quite like you."

  Madeline ceased her fanning and replaced her grade book on the desk, ready to carry on rational conversation now. "That's exactly how I feel. But I figure it makes a noticeable statement."

  "And that's your main concern these days, isn't it?" Rose Marie dropped into the office chair opposite Madeline and slapped the file folder on the other desk. "You want to make a noticeable statement."

  "Can you blame me?" Why were her friends giving her a hard time about this? Couldn't they see what she needed to accomplish? "I've got to do something to catch the university's attention before I get stuck doing two more years of literary sociology. I'm not backing down, Rose."

  "Couldn't you compromise?" Rose Marie rapped her hand on the desk, causing her file to jump. "Find something less controversial than mating rituals and something more exciting than literary sociology?"

  She'd thought of that, and dismissed it. "Sorry, Rose, but I've been compromising my whole life. I'm not settling for half measures this time."

  "Very well." Rose Marie turned and retrieved the file folder on the desk in front of her. "Your request for a new dissertation hearing has been granted. I tried to give you as much time as I could, but the committee wants you to devote yourself to your project by the beginning of October. They want to hear your presentation two weeks from today."

  "Two weeks?" Madeline croaked. How would she ever garner a more worldly reputation by then?

  Handing the file to Madeline, Rose Marie stood and turned to leave. "Good luck finding a man to flaunt around campus, Maddy. Maybe you ought to talk to that gorgeous business teacher I saw walk out of your of
fice not ten minutes ago. He looks like the kind of guy who could change a woman's reputation in a hurry."

  Madeline's cheeks heated and she thought of her promise to Cal to keep things quiet. "We're just friends."

  "Then maybe you're not using all your assets to your benefit, hon. If U of L didn't frown on relationships between graduate students and teachers, I'd urge you to get as close to that man as possible and see what happens." Winking, Rose shut the door behind her.

  Madeline could either contemplate her friend's advice for enticing Cal or ruminate over the bleak news in the file in front of her.

  Cal proved a far more tempting option. But if the dissertation committee wanted to reconvene in two weeks, Madeline needed to step up her plan of action.

  That meant Cal Turner couldn't tease her with the promise of his teachings any longer. He would have to show her the finer points of the mating ritual as soon as possible—preferably tomorrow night on date number two.

  Could she ever encourage him to show her that soon? She didn't know the first thing about seduction, but she vowed to try her best to make him notice her.

  With any luck, Cal wouldn't be going home without her tomorrow night.

  * * *

  So much for his great plan to court Madeline Watson with a gentleman's restraint.

  Cal glanced up at the clock during his class lecture and cursed himself for getting distracted by Maddy for the hundredth time since their office chat the day before. One more hour to go until their agreed-upon date, and he had no idea how he would make it until then.

  Thankfully, his students were nodding and making notes, asking an occasional question. He couldn't be messing up too badly.

  But his mind wasn't on business diversification strategies, the topic of the evening's class. No, the only thing Cal could think about was Maddy's teasing promise to wear black lace for him.

  He rolled out an overhead projector and talked the class through a flowchart of his company's organizational structure. Perfect Timing had been in business for five years and already had five branches. Cal had grown his business from his talent with a socket wrench and the sheer force of his will, yet he couldn't seem to make himself behave for ten minutes around Madeline.