Clearly, she’d come to a decision.
“Well, we can worry about that later. All I’m worried about right now is making sure Patrick’s classes are covered. There’s an overlap this morning, he has a first year lecture between ten and twelve, and I have a third year tutorial at eleven.” She glanced up to the clock on the wall. “And a meeting to go to in ten minutes.”
“How can I help?” Gabe leaned forward in his chair. “You saw that my PhD is in educational psychology, but obviously I can teach a first year social psychology class. Or a third year one.”
She chewed her lip and stared at him, still appearing doubtful.
Though at least she didn’t look quite as much as if she wanted him on the other side of the planet as she had when she first saw him.
“I know neither of us planned to meet again. But it seems we're stuck with each other. Can we call a truce?” He held out a hand for her to shake.
She eyed him suspiciously, as if he’d offered her poison ivy.
“Only because I have to,” she said, before grabbing his hand, shaking it fast, and letting it go.
Just like in Paris, the surge of electric heat that raced up his arm at her touch made him want to hold on, prolong the moment.
That probably would be a bad idea. A very bad idea.
One, she clearly didn’t want it. And two, he wanted it too much.
Silently, he asked God to give him clarity.
Part of him couldn't think of anything he'd rather do than sit across that desk from her, knowing that every time he looked up from his work, she'd be there. Part of him couldn't trust how he felt for her, any more than she appeared to trust her feelings for him.
Grieving, lonely, and a long way from home, he’d be vulnerable, and ripe to fall for the first girl who was nice to him.
He looked across the desk. Scratch that thought. Not the first girl who was nice. The first girl, period.
Zoe's expression since their handshake couldn’t be described as nice.
Seemed they’d gone back to square one. Her lowered brows and tightened lips as she shook her head suggested she’d be overjoyed to get rid of him.
“No, murdering me and dumping my body in the Thames won't help,” he said, hoping another joke would lighten the sudden tension that a mere handshake created between them. “You’d still be stuck having to do the lecture and the tute.”
That won him the hint of a genuine smile. “Nothing as extreme as murder. Only speaking to the Dean's secretary to see if they could send someone else to help.”
“Elizabeth already asked. There isn’t anyone else.”
She nodded, lips twisting. “I guess that’s the truth. We’re already short-staffed. I’m meant to be Patrick’s research assistant, not his tutor, but the junior lecturer broke a leg skiing, right after I started here. So Patrick did the lectures and the postgrad stuff, and I’ve taken over the rest of the work with the undergrads.”
Looking away from him, she loosed a long breath and wrapped her arms tightly across her chest. “But my help didn’t stop him having a heart attack.” Her voice cracked and became small. “I like Patrick. I hope he gets better.”
Gabe stood, and leaned over the wide desk to touch her hand where it clutched her shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault.”
She shook her head slightly, and didn’t look convinced. “Maybe if I’d done more to help him, instead of focusing on my own research….”
Compassion for her ached in his throat. She so obviously blamed herself.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he repeated, more firmly. “It sounds as if you’ve done plenty to help. I’ll simply do what he did. That’s what I’ve been sent here for. Problem solved.”
Her nose crinkled adorably. “It feels wrong asking you to go straight into giving a lecture, when you’ve only just arrived. Especially when I’ve hardly been welcoming.”
“It’s okay. I offered.” He shook his head. “Don’t make things more difficult for yourself.”
“But I’m going to have to dump the prep on you and run to my meeting. Hopefully, the audio-visual guys will already have his presentation set up in the lecture room. And Sarah our department secretary should have left a backup thumb drive and all the handouts ready to go on his desk.”
“Sounds good. I’ve had to step in at the last minute like this plenty of times. Goes with the lecturer job description.”
His confident words didn’t ease her worried frown.
“That’s what should have happened. It doesn’t mean it did happen. Patrick’s a darling, but his organisation skills are patchy. He’s known as Professor Last Minute dot com.”
“Not so encouraging.” He tried to infuse as much reassurance as he could into his smile. “But don’t worry. All I need is the unit objectives. I can wing it.”
“I can give you those. Hopefully, I can give you a lot more than those.” She bent to her handbag and pulled out a keyring, waving it in front of her. “Here’s the key to his office, we can check.”
She led him a few doors down the hall and let him into an office that looked like several filing cabinets had exploded. “Tidiness isn’t his strong point either.” After hitting the on button of the computer and shuffling through some of the notes on the messy, paper covered desk, she raised her head. “I can’t see any handouts ready. Sarah’s usually excellent at leaving them stacked up. I don’t suppose you have a log on for the computer system yet?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, no. That’s scheduled for this afternoon. No-one expected I’d be put to work quite so fast.”
“I’ll log you on as me then. If I show you where we keep our lecture prep files, you’ll need to find the right notes, then charm Sarah into doing a rush photocopying job and lending you a thumb drive.” Rolling her eyes, she waved her hands at the mess. “No doubt the originals of the handouts are somewhere in this lot. If not, you can print more off to give her. Easier than emailing when you don’t know the system.”
Before he could say anything, she glanced at her watch and her face scrunched in panic. “I’m late for my meeting. I’m sorry to dump this on you.” Her words accelerated as she logged onto the system and clicked though to the lecture notes. “What you need should be in here. Once you find it, Sarah’s office is at the end of the hall. Are you sure you’ll be okay.”
“I’ll be fine. Truly. Like I said, I can wing it if I have to.”
“I hope you won’t have to.” Then her face stilled, becoming serious. “Thank you, Gabe. I’m glad to have your help. I mean it.”
Her clear blue eyes met his, full of gratitude. Her tone sounded sincere. Though the tension in her posture suggested reluctance, it seemed she’d declared a truce, at least for now.
“I’m happy to help.” He meant it too.
She threw him a smile. “Gotta run. I should be back in time to walk you to the lecture hall.”
As she hurried out the door, his eyes were drawn to the sway of her hips and her strong definite stride. His senses and awareness were heightened, focused on Zoe.
Too focused.
Continuing where they left off in Paris might not be wise. He couldn’t agree with all of her theories, but on some things she did have a point. Instant attractions weren't always to be trusted.
Especially when they’d complicated things by doing the procedure.
They had to stay professional and work together for six whole weeks. He’d need to check with Human Resources, but he’d probably be considered her acting boss.
Zoe would hate that.
He would too.
Because it meant, no matter how he felt for her, Zoe was strictly off limits.
Chapter 9
Listening to Gabe’s soft low voice as he taught a class on romance and love wasn't exactly the way Zoe expected to spend her Monday morning.
Gabe being here was bad enough. Just looking at him had her heart dancing a samba. Gabe being here and lecturing on love jangled her nerves almost more than she could bear.<
br />
She hadn’t escaped when she had the chance, as soon as she’d walked him to the big lecture room and introduced him to the class. Instead, she’d taken a seat off to one side and stayed, telling herself she needed to assess his teaching skills.
That was an excuse.
She’d wanted to watch him.
No doubt about it. He was a gifted teacher, holding the students’ attention, even when he’d been thrown into lecturing from someone else’s presentation, with hardly any time to prepare. And he was certainly easy on the eye and the ear.
Still, the content of Patrick’s slides bothered her. Especially when taught by Gabe.
Despite appearing to be a crusty old bachelor, her boss remained a romantic at heart. Sure, it was a first year class. She didn’t expect too much critical thinking and analysis at this level. But the lecture material was little more than a celebration of romance. Patrick may as well have painted the room pink, swathed it in tulle and handed out red roses to every student.
If he’d been here, maybe he would have done.
Gabe read the wording on Patrick’s next slide. “The textbook name for the romantic ‘in love’ state is limerence. Typically, it lasts around two years. The features are idealisation of the love object, mood swings, and physiological arousal. If the love object reciprocates, everything feels wonderful.”
At least Patrick had said it was temporary.
But these students needed to understand how different feeling “in love” was to truly loving someone. Too many people equated romance with love, the way Brad had, when they were totally different things.
She wanted to hear Gabe tell the class the truth she’d learned so painfully.
That the feelings of falling in love aren’t anything like real committed love. That the feelings can’t be trusted. That chasing romance rather than holding strong to commitment wrecked relationships.
An unwelcome thought niggled at her. Maybe if what Brad had felt for her had been strong enough he would have stayed emotionally faithful. Maybe she wasn’t pretty enough, or lovable enough…
She pushed that mean little whisper away, hard.
‘In love’ feelings weren’t to be trusted as the basis for a relationship.
The fact Brad was now divorcing Maddie was proof. Her research would provide more proof.
And someone needed to tell that to this room full of hormone driven eighteen and nineteen year olds. Much the same age she and Brad had been.
Gabe expanded on the slide content, in his own words. “Some theorists believe it’s possible to get addicted to those feelings and chase after them, ending relationships as the feelings fade, rather than committing to the relationship and accepting the change from that initially euphoric emotional state over time.”
Right. That she could agree with. That was what needed to be said. He was getting real about romance.
But then he smiled at her, and winked.
Just the smile was enough to make her tummy turn somersaults.
“Most of us will have experienced that initial ‘in love’ feeling in one form or another,” he continued. “We see the person we’re falling in love with as being everything we’ve ever wanted. We magnify their good points, and ignore their faults. It seems as if we know them well, even though we may have only just met. Our emotions take us on a roller coaster ride. We’ll feel up if we perceive signs suggesting they care for us, and down if we don’t. We experience the usual adrenaline effects. A racing heart, rapid breathing, flushing, feeling light-headed, loss of appetite, sleeplessness, and euphoria. We all know how that feels.”
Surely she imagined his focus on her took on a special intensity as he went through his list.
No way did she want Gabe feeling that way about her. She didn’t want to feel that way for him, either.
He was only looking at her because he knew about her theories, that’s all.
But as he catalogued the symptoms, she’d ticked each one off mentally.
Idealising him, tick.
Having a sense she knew him well, tick.
Up and down emotions, tick.
And physiological responses, well, tick all those boxes.
Clearly, she had a case of limerence, and she had it bad. And hard as she tried, she couldn’t quite convince herself it was only a result of doing the closeness procedure.
If her heart raced before, it galloped now. Her cheeks heated, and she closed her eyes, not wanting to see Gabe’s expression if he noticed the obvious signs she was betraying. She couldn’t see his face, but she still heard the smile in his voice.
Somehow, he knew.
He’d guessed she had this crazy infatuation with him.
Well, she wasn’t going to betray herself again.
As soon as she could, she’d leave the lecture room and walk away. All she wanted was to get out of there.
Now she’d have to wait for him to call a break. She should have gone before the class started. Made sure he had everything he needed and the projector worked, then left him to it. That would have been the sensible thing to do, especially when she was so busy.
Instead, she'd been foolish enough to stay.
She'd wanted to watch Gabe. Wanted to hear his voice. Wanted to see him at work. Wanted to be near him.
She shouldn’t be feeling this strongly for him. Didn’t want to be feeling this strongly for him. But when their eyes met or their hands brushed, all rational thought went out of her mind.
All she could think about was him.
That procedure should come labelled with a mental health warning.
Keeping her eyes closed, she took slow deep breaths and made herself concentrate on something else. The tutorial session with the third years. How on earth she’d manage to make time to mark the hundred and twenty assignments these students were due to hand in this week. The visit to Pettett and Mayfield’s department store tomorrow to follow-up on Tiff’s back-to-work project and its formerly homeless participants.
Anything to keep her mind off Gabe. Off the way his voice felt almost like a touch, a sweet caress. Off the way her awareness focused on him.
At last he called a five minute break. She jumped up, holding her arms folded tight like a shield against him, and against the way her stupid heart threatened to pound its way right out of her chest.
“I need to go. I have that third year class in half an hour. Do you think you can find your own way back to the office?” She knew she was babbling, talking too fast to cover her confusion.
Carefully, she stared at his chin, avoiding meeting his eyes. Letting her gaze linger on his mouth wasn’t a good idea, either.
“Sure, I think so.” He smiled. “I picked the right route in Paris, after all.”
“So did I,” she countered. “And mine was more interesting.”
“We’ll never know, unless we go back and take my choice of street.”
She rolled her eyes heavenward. “That is never going to happen.”
“Shame about that. I still want to visit those places on Mom’s list before I go home.” His sweetly regretful half-smile held a hint of hope.
As if he wished she’d change her mind. As if he wanted to do the romantic tour with her.
“I need to go.” She forced herself to look at the door instead of his lips, but her face grew still hotter. Her face must be redder than a tomato by now.
His smile widened, almost like he guessed why she was in such a rush to get away. “I’ll manage. If I get lost, I’ll ask a student.” He paused for a moment. “I’m wondering, if you’re visiting Patrick in the hospital today, could I go with you? I’d like to meet him, and it will probably reassure him to know you have help covering his workload.”
She lifted her chin and made sure she smiled, hopefully with just the right note of nonchalance, as if she didn’t care either way. “Sure. Visiting hour is six through seven. I plan to leave about five thirty.”
Lifting her hand in a farewell wave without waiting for him to reply,
she hurried out the door.
The feelings she had for him would pass.
They had to.
Because she didn’t want to feel like this. It was just the procedure, that’s all. Anything Gabe felt for her was only a result of the procedure, too. The feelings weren’t real, and they weren’t to be trusted.
They had to work together for the next six weeks. How she’d manage that, she had no idea.
Spending as little time as she could get away with around him seemed a good place to start, but she had a heart-sinking feeling that avoiding him might turn out to be harder than she wanted.
A whole lot harder than she wanted.
The good news was, limerence was only temporary.
The feelings would pass.
That knowledge should make her feel way happier than it did.
Chapter 10
After Zoe hurried away from his lecture, the spark went out of the class for Gabe.
Watching her reaction to the discussion of love and romance captivated him. With her gone, the fun went out of it. He gave the class the attention it needed, but part of his mind stayed on her, even while he talked and laughed and joked with the students.
Once he started them on a group activity, his thoughts could wander.
Straight to Zoe, of course.
He’d chosen psychology because people fascinated him. He wanted to know what made them tick.
And now he wanted to know what made Zoe Gallagher tick.
She seemed such a mass of contradictions. Like a prickly porcupine. Or maybe that should be a cute little hedgehog, now they were here in England.
A few of the students seemed only too willing to flirt with a new young lecturer. He gently discouraged them. Students were off limits.
Unfortunately, Zoe might be, too. If he was her manager, she’d be equally out of bounds. He’d need to find out, as soon as he could,
Because knowing a relationship might be taboo didn’t stop him feeling what he did for her. All those limerence signs Patrick’s lecture had described. Judging by Zoe’s blush and hasty retreat, she did as well.
He smiled to himself. Things could get interesting.
The feelings were untrustworthy, sure.
Forget Paris: Sweet and clean Christian romance in Paris and London (Love In Store Book 4) Page 7
