Obsessed by Darkness

by Autumn Jordon

  “Emma, wait up.”

  At the sound of her name, she glanced off to her right and spied Bart Logan, waving for her to stop. She hadn’t seen Bart since Friday, before he had left to visit his family near the Finger Lakes in New York. Before she’d found Denise. Surely he’d heard the whole story ten times over by now.

  She didn’t want to talk about any of it.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Bart clap his friend’s back in a farewell gesture before rushing toward her. As usual, he wore a light gray turtleneck under a burgundy shawl-collar cardigan with a slim silver thread woven in. Reality was, Bart looked like he stepped out of a GQ Magazine. His stone-washed jeans probably cost more than her six-hundred dollar monthly school payment and his boots were a very expensive, designer version of her daddy’s work boots.

  She didn’t want to be rude to the current resident-benefactor of the university but she didn’t have time to chat. The class began in three minutes—literally.

  “Sorry. I’ve got to run.” She waved him off and with her heels clicking on the cobblestones like rapid fire, she continued toward the doors of the four-story stone building.

  Bart jogged around the knee-high brick planter centered in the courtyard and headed her off.

  She halted in midstep and huffed her frustration. “Bart, really—”

  His expensive cologne mixed with the scent of the plum and cream mums in the huge flower beds. He flashed his million-dollar smile, the one that caused almost every female on campus to give in to Bart’s every whim—including the cranky older woman who cleaned the classrooms. Once, Emma had seen Bart make the woman laugh, dispelling her theory the cleaning lady’s iron mask would actually crack in two if she did smile.

  “I’ve been trying to catch up with you since yesterday. You didn’t return my phone calls.”

  “Sorry. I’ve been busy.”

  “Where are you headed in such a hurry?”

  “The chem lab.” She tried to pass him, but he shuffled in front of her.

  “Whoa. I need to talk to you.”

  The narrowing of his hazel-colored eyes caused the pigmentation to change from blue-green to a gold-green.

  “If you’re going to ask about Denise, forget it.”

  His hands shot into the air, palms toward her. She noticed the life line on his right hand ran deep and extended to the center base of his hand. He was destined to live life to the fullest and travel widely.

  “I heard about her death and that you were the unfortunate one to find her.” He softly touched the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, for her and for you. I’m sure you’ve been hounded and I’m not going to go there. If you need to talk to someone, I’ve been told I’m a very good listener. You have my number.”

  Emma smiled at his consideration. “Thanks. I appreciate it. I’m sorry but I’ve got to run.”

  “Wait.” He latched onto her forearm. “Just give me one minute.”

  Normally, she appreciated Bart’s company. They had a lot in common, both being chemistry majors and having plans to pursue careers in drug research, but she didn’t have time to get drawn into a long conversation about the theories they loved to debate.

  Ten seconds. She’d give him exactly ten seconds before shoving him aside. “I really don’t have a minute. I’m teaching a class to a room full of freshman.”

  “You?” He let go of her and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Where’s Professor Langson?”

  Her pulse ticked off the seconds. “He had to go out of town for a few days. A family emergency of some kind. I don’t know the details.” She checked the library’s clock and saw the hand shift again. “I’m late.”

  “I’ll walk with you.”

  “You’ll have to run.”

  He put his hand on her arm again as she tried to sidestep him. “Honey, the class is not going to start without you. You’re in charge. Walking in there, poised and collected, acting like you own the place, will command more respect from the students than if you were there twenty minutes ago, pacing and fidgeting while they ambled in.”

  Bart was right. She was the one in charge. “God, I wish I had your self-assurance and Nanette’s carefree attitude. The combo would be powerful.”

  His laugh made her smile.

  Emma’s nerves were zinging but she let him set the easy pace as they strolled toward the building’s entrance.

  “Don’t go putting yourself down. I’ve been in training for a commander’s position since I took my first breath. My mother has pictures of me in a three-piece suit at the age of four months. My bib, in lieu of a tie, read CEO.”

  Most men wouldn’t have shared that tidbit, but Bart did so easily. It was another example of his rock-solid confidence.

  A diamond-like shimmer glistened in his eyes as he opened the door wide and motioned with the wave of his hand for her to pass through. “So don’t go knocking yourself down.”

  Emma drew a breath and amazingly, felt calmer. She smiled and stepped through the framework, noting the hallways were absent of the usual pre-class bustle she was used to. “I’ll try to remember that. Thanks.”

  The other professors were already starting their lectures to filled classrooms.

  “There is a lot to learn about being in charge and I’m more than willing to share some tidbits, over dinner,” he said, lowering his voice and leaning toward her. “Have dinner with me tonight. I have to make a quick appearance at an affair. You could come with me.”

  What was with her? Any woman on campus would swoon, feeling his breath on their cheeks and yet she felt nothing other than friendship for him. Respect.

  “I can’t. I’m busy. I have a study group.”

  “Ok. I’ll fulfill my family obligations and then I’ll pick you up after.”

  “Sorry, no. I have lesson plans to review tonight also.” Emma saw the open door of the lab at the end of the hall and immediately walked a little faster. If Bart noticed, he didn’t say anything. “I’d like to hear what you have to say, but another time. Maybe next week when the professor is back.”

  He grabbed her hand and propelled Emma to face him. “Ok, but you’ve got to have some downtime this week, otherwise you’ll burn out. Mark and I are throwing a party Saturday night at the lake house. Be my date.”

  The way he cocked his head to the side and his easy grin reminded her of someone.

  Chase Hunter.

  The immediate mental image of the handsome stranger caused her pulse to drum against her wrist. What the hell? She’d just met the man and already he took the lead in most of her non-collegiate thoughts. Why? He wasn’t any more handsome than the man standing in front of her. The one determined to spend time with her.

  Chase was older than her by a few years while Bart was a year younger. She had always gravitated toward older men. She found them more interesting.

  Yet, she and Bart had so much in common, including work ethics. Chase, on the other hand, seemed so laidback with no goals in mind.

  Bart clicked his fingers in front of her nose, and she blinked out of her stupor. Her face flushed with heat as she met his amused stare.

  “Are you ok?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I’m preoccupied, thinking about the class,” she lied. Emma chewed on the inside of her mouth. Something held her back from saying yes to his invitation. She backpedal toward the classroom door. “I really have to go, Bart. They’re waiting.”

  “Wait. What about Saturday night?”

  “Oh, Nanette mentioned the party yesterday. I guess Mark invited her and she invited me to come along with her. I’ll see you there.”

  She pasted on a sympathetic smile in response to his frown as she backed through the threshold.

  Bart waved good-bye and walked away. Even from the back, she could tell his shoulders carried the weight of his disappointment.

  Why hadn’t she accepted Bart’s invitation?

  Again, the thought of Chase Hunter sent her pulse fluttering.

  The
chatter behind her slowly subsided and Emma knew, before turning around, twenty pairs of eyes were focused on her back, waiting.

  She pushed Chase’s image away and replaced it with Bart’s and recalled his advice. She drew a breath and mustered what poise she had in her, leveled her chin and entered the room, closing the door behind her. Her nerves were strung tighter than a high-tension wire. She’d rather back out through the door and deal with Bart than deal with the blitz of stares—and the questions behind them—but she had made a commitment to the professor and she wouldn’t fail to honor it.

  Her boot heels clicked against the floor as she put one foot in front of the other, planting them firmly, as she walked between the lab tables to the front of the classroom.

  “Good afternoon. My name is Emma Lewis. Some of you know me and some of you do not. I’m Professor Langston’s senior student assistant, and I’ll be conducting this class for a few days.”

  Circling the counter at the front of the classroom, she laid her books and laptop down and scanned the faces watching her, as well as those apparently intrigued by something on their phones.

  “Today, we’ll be doing one of the five first-year experiments designed to illustrate topics which are considered fundamental training for every chemist—quantitative analysis of samples. In this experiment you will… Ah,” She stammered to a halt.

  Sitting at the rear corner table, Chase had shifted on his seat and came into her view from behind a man who she believed played center for the school’s football team.

  He waved, wearing a devilish, handsome smile.

  What was he doing there? He hadn’t said anything to her about taking chemistry when they’d spoken yesterday.

  The light pouring in through the window brought out the wheat tints in his blond hair and for a nano-second she wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through it.

  A few heads turned in Chase’s direction and she jumped, realizing she stared at him with her mouth agape. She probably looked like a love-sick puppy. She pulled her gaze away from his and drew a breath before she continued on. “In this experiment you will use different methods to determine the concentration of four minerals in samples of unknown composition and you’ll be asked to assess the relative value of each process. Let’s get started.”

  Heat flushed her cheeks as she fished through her bag for the instructions the professor had emailed to her. With a clenched jaw, she focused on the job at hand, remembering Bart’s advice. She’d find out soon enough why Chase was in this class—even if she had to pull it out of him with a direct question.

  Emma instructed the students to turn to the section in their books that dealt with that day’s assignment and began the class. Her pulse kicked up every time she peeked in Chase’s direction and noted his eyes followed her.

  “Ok, does anyone have any questions before we start the experiment?”

  No one raised a hand, so she instructed each group seated at a station to select a team leader who would accompany her into the storage area for the supplies they needed.

  While the students chatted, she took the opportunity to walk to where Chase sat, apart from the others. The sunlight filtering through the angled mini-blinds cast a golden glow over him. He flipped through pages of the thick book in front of him as if he’d lost his place, which was without a doubt true, since he hadn’t shown much interest in following the lesson plan. He had studied the room, and her, more than his book.

  “Mr. Hunter,” she said, planting herself in front of him.

  His gaze darted up to meet hers and a smile bloomed on his face. “Chase, please, Emma.”

  Even though delight bubbled inside her, Emma rolled her lips tight. “I didn’t realize you were taking chemistry.”

  “I ah—” His gaze dropped to the book.

  “I thought so.” She stepped closer which she quickly learned was a mistake because his musky scent immediately surrounded her. “You…” She cleared the thickness from her voice and spoke in a very controlled manner. “You do realize instructors have a roster of their students’ names and as far as I know, your name is not on ours.”

  He fished into his pocket and handed her a folded paper. “I’m an add-on. The admissions office said they’d shoot my professors an email, alerting them. Perhaps…” He nodded toward the paper. “Professor Langson hasn’t checked his email. He’s away, handling a family emergency, right?”

  She nodded. “Perhaps.” She took the sheet he held out. The dean had signed it himself. Why would the dean busy his hands by signing the document? Had he stepped in because of Chase’s special circumstances?

  And did Chase request this add-on after meeting her yesterday? The notion he’d go to such lengths to see her again, made her want to smile, but she kept her lips taut.

  She narrowed her eyes at the man who caused her heart to skip around her chest like it was free of any obligations. “What is it you want, Mr. Hunter?”

  “What do you mean?” His eyes widened.

  Emma’s intuition told her his motive for signing up for this particular class had little to do with learning chemistry. Making chemistry, on a one-to-one basis with someone, was more likely his style.

  A picture of the two of them in a heated embrace popped into her mind and she quickly blinked it away. “I mean, why are you here? You said nothing about taking chemistry yesterday.”

  He cocked his head to the side and when he smiled the darn dimple she wanted to touch last night, reappeared.

  “I don’t recall us discussing the classes I signed up for, except for literature.” His brow cocked. “You seem to think I wasn’t telling you the truth.”

  A giggle from behind, poked Emma’s nerves and she glanced over her shoulder. Several of the female students were very interested in her and Chase’s interaction.

  She ignored the glint of amusement in his eyes and the warmth growing in her cheeks. “We’ll talk about this later,” she whispered and then loudly said, “I think there is room for you in the group up front.” She pointed to a particular lab station where an empty chair remained, among three women.

  He shrugged and rose, causing her to step back.

  Before he could step ahead of her, she headed to the front of the classroom. The women shared a quick leer at the new student among them and then all three grinned at Chase like he was the meal they’d waited for after a six-week diet.

  Jealousy wound its way through Emma’s chest. Maybe requesting he sit with the trio had been a mistake, but she couldn’t take the order back without letting on she was interested in the man.

  The three-hour class went smoothly, much to Emma’s relief. She was self-conscious enough holding the teacher role, but having Chase present in her class made her sweat under the collar of her turtleneck, especially when she caught him watching her.

  As the students filed out into the hallway after class, she noted the three women who had been Chase’s lab partners, surrounded him and propelled him toward the door like a piece of driftwood pushed by a tidal wave.

  Disappointment caused her to sigh. She straightened her shoulders and began to clean her area. As she slipped her books into her bag the sound of footsteps made her look up.

  All the moisture left her mouth. “I thought you left.”

  “Yeah well, I was a little surrounded.” He hooked a thumb toward the door. “Thanks to you.”

  “Me?” She returned his cocked brow. “I do not control others.”

  Chase caught the little curve at the edges of Emma’s mouth. He realized he could get close to the woman in one of two ways: Either he became a desperate student she would take under her wing so he could dog her constantly, or he became her lover.

  During their first encounter, she hadn’t seemed interested in the latter, but just then, he’d seen the flare of her nostrils, the way her hand went to her stomach as if she needed to quiet jumpy nerves.

  He had the same skittish gut.

  Her work station stood between them.

/>   Looking down into Emma’s eyes, he felt his pulse kick up a notch. He had orders to get close to the woman and he had no problem following instructions. However, the images he had running through his head were probably not what Will, the head of the C.U.F.F. team, had in mind when handing out that directive.

  Don’t go there, Hunter, and even if you do, don’t let it be emotional. He couldn’t tell her that though, so said, “Do you have a minute?”

  “One.”

  He didn’t have to worry about becoming softhearted. The woman’s status remained unfriendly. That intrigued him and he wanted to get to know her intimately.

  But until he was one-hundred percent sure she had nothing to do with the production and distribution of the drug they now labeled Twin, he couldn’t let his longing to know her in the most carnal of ways screw with his head. He’d fuck her, if he had to, in the name of loyalty to his country. The fact that he really wanted to, and would enjoy every minute, was beside the point.

  Emma pulled her gaze away first and bent over, locking the cabinet drawers under her station. “Well, did you have a question?”

  Chase dropped his book on the countertop and rounded its edge. He cleared his throat. “A favor, actually. You know my situation. I wondered if I could sit in on your study group.”

  Standing, she flipped her long hair over her back. “I’m sorry but my group is for second-year students. Our interaction would be beyond you, and I couldn’t hold the group back by taking time to help you.”

  “I see.” For a second he let his gaze drop to his folded hands which rested on his book and then slanted them up to her again, pleading. “Would you be open to tutoring me? I’d pay you, of course.” His eyes traced the slope of her nose. He liked the way it hooked slightly at its end. It signaled the eyes to drop to the deep V of her pink lips. Lips he wouldn’t mind tasting. Lips he’d bet tasted like honey.

  “There are people who tutor besides me. I think their names are posted on the study board in The Lair’s foyer. I’m sure someone could work you into their schedule. If you head over there, you might find a few of them having dinner.”

  Emma closed him out in the student-teacher area. It looked like he had to go with option two. He ignored the tightening of his loins and stepped closer. “But not you?”