LEARNING CURVES

by Joanne Rock

  She knew he had the answer when he smiled.

  "You know, I'm going to have to answer this in two parts, because men don't always notice what they should about a woman." He pulled a long strand of hair out from in between them and laid it on the couch alongside her.

  "First, I remember noticing one of those big shirts of yours and wondering what you kept all buttoned-up underneath it."

  She rolled her eyes and gave him a reprimanding poke in the arm.

  "Hey, I warned you. But you'll probably like that answer better than the second part."

  Oh, great. Madeline hoped she wouldn't be sorry she asked, but maybe if he gave another lightweight sort of answer like the first one, it would alleviate some of the seriousness from their day together. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was tumbling headlong into a relationship with Cal that would leave her with a heartache she'd never forget.

  Cal continued. "After you got out of your car—"

  "You noticed the first part while I was still in my car?" She remembered her first trip to his garage vividly. She'd been in town all of a month when the Honda had started acting up.

  Lucky for her, she'd stumbled upon Cal's garage. Not only had she gotten her car fixed, she'd walked away with enough daydream material for the next month.

  His grin was unrepentant. "Men make those kind of judgments sort of fast, Maddy."

  She sighed.

  "Anyway, after you got out of the car I noticed the mountains of textbooks and periodicals in your back seat. Then we talked about how you were starting work on your Master's, and that's when I really noticed you."

  Madeline still waited for the other shoe to drop. What had he noticed?

  He rubbed one hand across her collarbone to cup her shoulder. "There's just something incredibly sexy about how smart you are."

  Her heart fluttered in that very unwanted, dreamy way again. How could she not adore a man who wanted her for her brain?

  It suddenly struck her that Cal wouldn't care if she kept the boatload of cosmetics the salesperson at the mall had talked her into buying. For that matter, she probably didn't even need the black leather with a guy like Cal.

  In fact, the proof that he liked her just the way she was had probably surfaced when he showed up at her doorstep this morning and hadn't even cringed at the sight of her in her oldest pjs.

  This man—who'd had his pick of gorgeous women—wanted her. Madeline Watson, class nerd.

  And if she didn't start running right now, she'd be in love with him before she could say "pocket protector."

  * * *

  Chapter 13

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  Cal gazed into Maddy's eyes and feared he had admitted too much. In an unguarded moment he'd revealed a level of attraction he had managed to keep to himself until now.

  He allowed his gaze to slide away from hers, knowing something momentous had just passed between them. He peered around her living room to distract himself, all the while wondering what had just happened.

  Yes, he'd just experienced the most deeply satisfying sex of his life. And he was pretty damn sure he'd pleased Maddy, too. But beyond that, he could have sworn the whole world had somehow shifted in the few hours he had been in this room, and he wasn't altogether sure it had anything to do with the off-the-charts sex.

  Searching the landscape of her house, he spied a snapshot of her and her father in a polished pewter frame over her bookcase. She was about eight years old, neat and pretty with a starched cotton shirt and a pink ribbon in her hair, glasses perched on her little nose even then.

  Cal thought about the way she looked now, with heavy-lidded eyes and mouth swollen from his kiss, her hair wound around them both. He'd distracted her from her smart, good-girl ways. She probably would be putting together her knock-'em-dead proposal for her dissertation right now if he hadn't shown up on her doorstep this morning.

  Damn. In his grand scheme to seduce Maddy with as much fervor as she'd seduced him, he'd never stopped to think about what would happen next. What should he do now? Apologize for messing up her hair and spilling a little raspberry juice on the couch?

  He'd known all along this couldn't lead to anything permanent. Marriage had taught him he wasn't cut out for long-term emotional investment. He'd only end up disappointing Maddy the same way he'd disappointed his wife.

  "Maddy—"

  He was saved from having to say anything intelligent by the sound of voices outside her front door.

  Voices.

  Her eyes flew to his, their gazes crashing together in a look of mutual horror.

  "You expecting anyone?" he whispered, reaching for his jeans.

  She shook her head, wide-eyed.

  Tossing her pajamas toward her, he pulled on his pants. He kicked the excess clothing under the couch as Professor Rose Marie Blakely's voice sounded outside.

  "Hey, Maddy, your dissertation is saved!" Dr. Rose called through the door, then spoke in a lower voice to her companion.

  The duo on the doorstep laughed, a deep male chuckle followed by a feminine giggle.

  Madeline moved in slow motion as she pulled on her pajama bottoms and combed her fingers through her hair. She squinted toward the door.

  "It's Rose," Maddy announced, her voice thin and wavering. She sounded as helpless as he felt.

  Cal scrambled for her glasses and rested them on her nose. "I know."

  "What do I do?" Her words were muffled as she dragged her shirt over her head.

  Rose Marie knocked at the door. "Madeline!" Her voice sounded less friendly, and more authoritative this time around. "I've got Dr. Rafferty with me."

  Cal had never seen Maddy cry, but she looked damn close to tears now.

  This would cause the scandal of the decade: University Professor Debauches Graduate Student. The headline wouldn't care that Maddy taught at Louisville, too. They'd make the most of the fact that she was still pursuing a degree.

  "You want me to hide?" He swallowed his pride for her sake. And Allison's. He didn't want to think what his stupidity would cost his sister.

  She blanched. "You can't. Your car's here!"

  The panic in her voice told him she wouldn't get through this without him. He'd messed up, and he was going to have to pay for it.

  "Madeline?" Rose Marie called.

  Cal took a deep breath, knowing he had to stay by her side. "Want me to answer the door?"

  She shook her head with a quick, jerky movement. "I can get it," she said, her voice whisper-soft. She squeezed his hand before turning toward the door and squaring her shoulders.

  "Coming!" she called, moving toward the small foyer.

  Cal didn't know what else to do, so he paced the living room floor, every muscle in his body coiled with tension.

  Madeline unbolted the latch and cracked the door a few inches.

  He strained to hear her words without much success. He had no problem hearing Rose Marie Blakely, however, as Madeline's supervisor edged closer.

  "…just go get some clothes on and we'll wait here." The professor's voice floated closer as she maneuvered her way around Maddy. "Whose car is out front?"

  Cal paused in his pacing. Maddy stood, immobile, at the front door.

  Professor Blakely stepped into the living room. "I mean, I hope we didn't—" Her words faltered along with her footfall. Her gaze locked with Cal's.

  Dr. Michael Rafferty stepped in behind her, still oblivious to the awkward situation awaiting him. A long-tenured university fixture, Rafferty had a reputation for being somewhat of a loose cannon. Cal had never met the man personally, even though the sociology professor often taught an evening class in the same building as Cal.

  This would make for a hell of an introduction.

  The man smiled warmly at Madeline. "Hope we aren't interrupting anything. Rose assured me you make a habit of working on Sundays."

  Rose Marie cleared her throat. "Except for today, I guess."

  Before Rafferty could look askance at his colleague,
he did a double take as his eyes lit upon Cal.

  Cal guessed his morning's activities were blatantly obvious. Their breakfast had scattered everywhere. Incriminating pineapple pieces lay on the floor. Madeline's high color, skewed clothing and wild hair pretty much gave her away to any semi-observant bystander.

  The fact that she wore no bra probably didn't escape the professor's shrewd eye, either.

  Cal cringed as the aging academic flipped open the shades on his small, wire-framed glasses to inspect Madeline at close range.

  Cal stepped forward. "If the three of you have business to discuss, I can make myself scarce." He didn't want to desert Maddy in an awkward social situation, but if he could ease the tension for her by leaving, he would.

  Rose Marie virtually jumped out of the way of the door to clear a path. "We would only need a few minutes."

  Cal sensed an ally in this woman. Could escape be as simple as walking out the door? He braved a glance at Maddy. Her barely perceptible nod told him to go for it.

  But before he could think of a suitable exit line, Rafferty leaned closer to him.

  "Don't I know you?" he asked.

  Myriad curses resounded in Cal's head, impairing his ability to form an intelligible answer.

  Allison hadn't even come close to being this busted when she sneaked out of the house last week. Cal was now officially ensnared in an impossible situation.

  Rose Marie interceded in Cal's silence. "You know, Mike, maybe we ought to discuss this tomorrow—"

  Rafferty snapped his fingers. "I've got it. You teach the class after mine in Honors Hall."

  Cal waited for righteous indignation or maybe an outraged reproach.

  Instead Michael Rafferty pointed an accusing finger at Rose Marie. "Ha! Everyone told me the teachers couldn't sleep with graduate students. Don't the rules apply to this young man?"

  Cal could see Maddy's flush from her collar to her hair roots.

  Damn. This was all his fault.

  Rose Marie sighed. "Of course the rules apply. The university frowns on this sort of thing." She looked back and forth between Cal and Maddy, regret plainly written in her eyes. "You should probably discuss this with your department chair, Mr. Turner."

  Dr. Rafferty cast a grave look in Cal's direction. "The implication being, you need to mention it before we do."

  Jaw clenched, Cal grit his teeth. His opinion of the professor sank with each passing minute. "I understood the implication. Thanks."

  Rafferty nodded. "I have to admit I find it surprising that I arrived here to discuss a dissertation on mating rituals and stumbled across the primary research process in action."

  Maddy didn't flinch, but Cal knew she would feel those words like a blow. He ached for the embarrassment she must be experiencing, and at the same time he damned himself for subjecting her to this. Her reputation had been pristine until he'd rang her bell this morning.

  Thankfully, Rose Marie chose that moment to open Maddy's front door and nudge Dr. Rafferty—forcefully—toward the exit. "Come on, Mike, we can discuss this project on Monday."

  Rafferty had barely taken two steps when he halted again. "We might not be discussing anything on Monday depending how the administration reacts to this incident." He turned to Madeline, his gaze dipping well below eye level. "Your dissertation won't be an issue if they decide to revoke your assistantship."

  Madeline's hand flew to her mouth, perhaps to smother a gasp. Maybe even a scream.

  Cal couldn't imagine what she'd do without her position at U of L. Her job meant everything to her.

  Maddy turned to Rose Marie. "Could they really do that?" Her voiced wavered. "Could they kick me right out of the program?"

  Rose Marie glared at her companion before gently patting Maddy's shoulder. "I don't think they would do something so drastic. You've always had an outstanding reputation in the department."

  "But they could," Rafferty pointed out as he finally headed through the door.

  Rose Marie mouthed "I'm sorry," to Madeline and Cal, then followed her colleague.

  Rafferty's voice drifted back to them as Rose Marie joined him on the way to the car. "Sign me up for her review committee if they don't give her the boot, Rose. I'll bet she writes the hottest dissertation this university has ever seen."

  Cal's fingers flexed into a fist as Rafferty's sly chuckle faded in the distance.

  Madeline slammed the door behind them, clearly overhearing every word as well as Cal had. He reached for her waist to hold her, then stopped himself.

  She might not welcome his touch after what had just happened. He wouldn't fault her if she blamed him for the whole debacle. He was the one who had tracked her down and bribed his way inside with breakfast. He was the one who hadn't been able to keep his hands off her.

  And now Maddy would pay the price. Her dissertation project probably didn't stand a chance. Her upstanding reputation had been compromised to such an extent that she might lose her position.

  They hadn't been just caught kissing on campus. No, they'd been discovered half-dressed in Maddy's house—a flagrant scenario Madeline had probably never dreamed of when she'd first envisioned ways to tilt her good-girl halo a little.

  But all along, Cal had recognized the fiery potential of her naive scheme. And instead of talking her out of it, he'd taken her seductive techniques to new heights—and the consequences to new depths.

  Despite his recent degree and his glorified teaching job, he'd still managed to screw up the big things in life. Beneath it all, he was still a mechanic from backwoods Tennessee.

  Even worse, he'd betrayed his sister's trust by jeopardizing her future. What judge would grant guardianship to a teacher who seduced a graduate student? No matter that Maddy was a consenting adult, had never been his student, or that they'd known each other long before Cal started teaching.

  The whole thing sounded sordid enough to give credence to Delia Heywood's claims and to force the social services department to stamp "Rejected" all over his custody request.

  He looked around Maddy's living room, the evidence of their decadent morning reminding him that he'd brought all of this down on their heads. Her pale face and wide eyes completed the image of the upheaval he'd wrought. He had to get out of here before he made things worse. Before he did something stupid such as take her in his arms and offer her more than comfort.

  "I'd better go," he muttered, searching the dining room table for his keys.

  Madeline spied the keys and snatched them up before he had the chance. She squeezed the cool metal in her hands, allowing the rough edges to dig into her flesh.

  No way would she let him walk out on her after the nightmare they'd just been through.

  "Not yet." She didn't think she could face the rest of this day until they sat and talked about the jumbled mess of their relationship.

  She gestured to the tray of fruit by her couch and attempted to make light of a bad situation. "We haven't made a dent in the food."

  Cal scrubbed his hand over his jaw, as if contemplating how to obtain his keys. "Don't you think we've done enough damage for one day?"

  "I'm sorry about all of this. I know it will hurt Allison's guardianship hearing, and I can't tell you how awful I feel." She should have known better than to let him stay for a brunch she had zero chance of resisting. But now that the worst had happened, what did it matter if they at least talked about where to go next?

  "This could nullify the guardianship hearing, Maddy." He spent restless energy folding up the paper bags littering her table. "I need to come up with a strategy for how I'm going to handle this."

  "Isn't that something we should do together?" She tried appealing to him as his friend.

  He stacked the bags and weighted the pile with a bowl of fake fruit she used as a centerpiece. "I think we're going to need to approach this separately, Maddy. We've both got a lot at stake here."

  Forget approaching him as his friend. She swayed closer and wound her fingers around his shoulders
, hoping her touch would mean more to him than logic. "All the more reason for us to work on this together! Maybe if we—"

  He stepped back, out of her embrace. "There is no 'we,' Maddy." He walked to the other side of the table, as if he couldn't insert enough space between them. "I screwed up and I'm sorry. But I've got to get home and talk to Allison before she catches wind of this from someone else."

  Madeline stared at him, knowing the hurt ripping through her was only a precursor to what she'd feel once he left for good.

  Cal held out his palm. "So if you'll just give me my keys…"

  She'd almost forgotten she held them. Careful not to touch him again, she relinquished them into his hand. She noticed the shape of the keys remained outlined on her flesh, a small dent compared to the impression he'd left on the rest of her.

  Having retrieved his ticket to freedom, Cal headed for the door. He paused on her Welcome mat. "I never meant for this to happen."

  "You had no way of knowing," Madeline assured him, wishing she could make him feel just a little bit better. "Rose Marie has never come over on a weekend before. Besides, you weren't the one looking for trouble, Cal. I shouldn't have dragged you into my quest for … experience."

  Cal jingled the keys in his palm, but didn't open the door. "It's been a little more than a quest, don't you think?"

  She smiled to keep herself from crying. "If it had been more than that, I don't think you'd be leaving right now."

  He stared down at the woven doormat for a long moment and then pulled open the door. "Sorry, Maddy. You'll navigate your way through this better without me here. And I've got to talk to Allison."

  She'd never needed someone so much as she needed him right now. It teetered on her tongue to tell him as much.

  But she couldn't.

  Her reserved, scholarly side, the one that had protected her from messy emotional entanglements ever since childhood, refused to let her confide her feelings to Cal.

  The beat of his boots on her front step echoed through her as surely as he'd trounced his way across her heart. She stood over her dining room table, listening to the sounds of his car starting, followed by the low rumble of the engine fading into the distance.