by Mindy Neff
He wondered if anybody would care enough to put his picture up on the wall when he was gone. Yeah, right, he thought. They could conduct tours, pausing to speculate on the freak. An ex-G-man, unable and unwilling to trust the system any longer. A system that had let a faulty, half-complete experiment be transported as if it were an innocent birthday cake rather than a lethal chemical.
And lethal it might well be. The best technicians in the world couldn’t guarantee his life.
Tick lock. Tick tock.
The blood running through his veins may as well have been pure TNT. So what if he had a new face and a new name. What good were those qualities to a dead man?
He touched his hip pocket where the small gold charm rested in a special compartment of his wallet. At least Molly would be provided for. He’d made sure of that in his will.
Still, he had some time left—no telling how much, but some. He snatched up the phone and punched in a set of familiar numbers. He intended to use whatever time he had left to watch over Molly Kincade.
IT WAS A TYPICAL MORNING at Clemons High. Two LAPD officers were already in the office taking a statement from a sullen teen determined not to cooperate.
Molly grabbed the messages out of her box, hoping to see one indicating Lamar Castillo’s mother had returned her call. Typically, she hadn’t. She pushed through the door of the teacher’s lounge and headed for the stack of foam cups next to the coffeepot.
A man, his broad shoulders filling out a tailored suit jacket quite nicely, stood by the coffeepot, his back to her.
“Touch those grounds and you’ll get your fingers broken,” she warned just as he was reaching for the scoop in the can of coffee. “Anybody around here can tell you I’m the only one who can make a decent pot.”
He turned slowly, and the papers in Molly’s hand slipped through her slack fingers, scattering over the floor like confetti.
“You!”
His smile made her insides flip. Their knees bumped as they bent at the same time to retrieve the English essays she’d dropped.
His light brown eyes seared her, searching her features as if he were determined to memorize every pore of her skin. She felt her palms perspire as long-forgotten sensations whipped through her, making her feel restless and much too warm beneath her linen jacket.
The blinding, vibrant attraction took her by surprise. She licked her lips, stunned by the fire she saw burning in his eyes.
Had he groaned? Or had she? Slowly, as if it pained him to do so, his gaze shifted downward, staring with a sort of sad fascination at the charm that swung from a gold chain around her neck.
And that’s when the guilt slammed into her. How could she be attracted to another man when her emotions were still so tied up with Jason?
For an insane moment, she thought he was going to reach for her. She saw his hand lift then close into a fist against his thigh.
“Adam Walsh,” he introduced. “Guidance tech responsible for surnames, L through P. First day.”
“Oh.” Her breathing sounded loud to her own ears. “Welcome to bedlam.”
“I thought I was at Clemons.”
She grinned. “You can call it whatever you want. Take a quick stroll down any of the hallways and get back to me on where you think you are.”
“That bad?” he asked, handing her a stack of papers.
“Not really. Most of the kids are pretty great.” It unnerved her the way he was watching her. For a split instant, she felt like easing into his arms. Just as quickly, the need for distance rang in her mind like an urgent fire alarm. Both impulses confused her.
A smart woman would opt for distance. And Molly considered herself pretty darned smart.
Slipping the rest of the stray papers back in the folder, she stood. “Well, I’ve got to run. If I don’t get to class before the students, they’re likely to hide my books or something.”
She saw him glance at the clock. “School’s not in session for another forty-five minutes. What about the coffee?”
“Uh, no, thank you. I’m not thirsty.” She backed toward the door, feeling like a dork. Where had that zing of chemistry come from? She hadn’t reacted to the presence of a male like this in well over a year.
Discounting last night, of course.
“Thirsty or not, I’m partial to my fingers.”
She stopped. “Excuse me?”
“You threatened to break bones if anybody touched the pot.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “If what I saw last night is any indication, your bones are fairly safe.”
The corners of his eyes tightened, making the scar beneath his eyebrow whiten—as if she’d hurt him with her words. The look vanished, leaving Molly to wonder if she’d imagined it.
“Do you have a name?” he asked.
“Oh, sorry. Molly Kincade. Room 3, freshman English.” Damn, he was handsome. Too handsome to be a guidance counselor. He’d be better suited to one of those sexy Calvin Klein underwear ads—dark, brooding looks, bedroom eyes—wearing nothing but a pair of skintight white briefs….
What on earth was the matter with her?
Totally flustered, she reached behind her for the doorknob. “Uh, holler if I can be of help.” She nearly ran from the room. She’d acted like a fool, which was perfectly ridiculous. She never got tongue-tied around men.
Racing through the office, she skirted other teachers, attendance clerks and the principal. Jody Nance, an assistant, stuck her head out of the dean’s office.
“Molly,” she called. “Eddie Martinez has been kicked out of third period again. Since you seem to be the only one around here with any kind of rapport with the kid…”
“Fine. I’ll speak to him.”
Molly glanced over her shoulder as she pushed through the glass doors of the office and headed across the quad. Adam Walsh was introducing himself around, making his way in her wake.
Great. Just wonderful. Her heel caught in the crack of the concrete, and she almost went down. She barely saved the essay papers from spilling a second time. God, she needed coffee. Strong and black and hot. Her insides were a mess.
Ahead of her, leaning against the lockers just beyond the boys’ bathroom, was Eddie Martinez. Little stinker, she thought. What had he done this time to get thrown out of class? Probably just neglected to show up. But he was a good kid—and it was past time he started acting as one.
She slipped up behind him. “Eddie.”
He jumped as if she’d opened fire with an Uzi, then turned with a sheepish grin on his face. He was one of the few kids who didn’t tower over her five-foot-two height. She only had to raise her eyes about two inches to meet his.
“What’s happenin’, Miss Kincade?”
“Heard you got kicked out of VanArk’s third period.”
“Aw, no biggie. Who needs that sissy reading class anyway?”
“You do.”
“I ain’t no retard.”
“No one said you were a retard, Eddie.”
“Then I guess I don’t need third period.” He smirked, obviously figuring he’d made some sort of sensible statement.
Molly gave his heavy, pea green flight jacket a friendly yank, letting him know she meant business. “Eddie, Eddie, what am I going to do with you?”
“Take me home with you?” he asked with such a cute grin she nearly laughed.
“We were talking about third period,” she reminded. She wished she could take all these kids home with her.
“I ain’t going back there, and you can’t make me.”
“Doggone it, Eddie, your test scores show you’re only reading at fourth-grade level. And if that’s not bad enough, you’re majoring in detention!”
“I don’t read like no fourth-grader.”
She raised a brow and pulled a magazine out of her open portfolio. “Prove it. Read something for me.”
Eddie looked around at the kids passing by them. “Read what?” he asked belligerently.
“Anything. Just open that mag
azine and start anywhere you like. An underwear ad will do.” Why was she obsessing on underwear ads today?
“I don’t like this rag.” He thrust the magazine back at her.
“Fine. What do you like? I’ll get it for you.”
“Lay off, Miss Kincade.”
“I will not lay off…Eddie!” Her back teeth ground together when he brushed by her and slipped into the boys’ rest room. “You’re not pulling that crap on me, buddie.”
Determined to get through to the kid, she marched right into the boys’ room after him, surprised it wasn’t crowded with seniors puffing on a last smoke before the bell rang.
“Eddie Martinez, you don’t have a third-period class, and that’s not acceptable.”
“Hey, Miss Kincade. This is the boys’ bathroom!” His face had turned a deep shade of red.
“I can read the sign, thank you very much. Now, you’ve got a choice. You can take my third period or study hall. Decide.”
“I’ll take study hall.”
“Wrong answer. You’ll take my class. And don’t even think about not showing up. I’ll hunt you down.” She frowned when Eddie’s gaze strayed past her left shoulder. She glanced that way and caught a reflection in the mirror.
A male reflection.
To make matters worse, automatic reflex had her whirling around to face him when any woman with an ounce of sense would have kept her back turned.
“Mr. Walsh! Uh, I was just…” She waved ineptly, her tongue stubbornly refusing to formulate a coherent explanation. Eddie had taken advantage of her embarrassment and slipped out the door. She did have the presence of mind to call after him, “You better not be late, Eddie!”
She turned back to the new guidance counselor, then slapped her hand over her eyes and groaned. “Mr. Walsh. I apologize for intruding this way—”
“Considering how much of me you’ve seen, why don’t you call me Adam?”
Molly bit her lip to hold back the giggle. She’d raised a brother. The male anatomy was not new to her. And she’d known every inch of Jason’s body. Still, this man was a virtual stranger.
“Adam, then.” Although she hadn’t seen anything. “And I do apologize. I’ll just, uh…Well, do carry on.”
She slapped the swinging door and tried to make a dignified retreat. Bright morning sun rained down on her, heating her face. At least, she told herself that’s what made her cheeks burn. What a morning!
Her escape was unsuccessful. Adam caught up with her and fell into step beside her. He made her nervous.
“Why do I make you nervous?”
Molly’s hand slipped off the glass door she was about to push open. Adam reached past her and held the door. She barely reached his shoulder, and it was easy enough to duck under his arm. He smelled like morning sunshine, clean and crisp. A difficult image in the smog-filled L.A. basin.
“Who says you make me nervous?
He simply raised his brow. The dimple in his chin deepened when he pursed his lips. This man had some face. A woman could spend a lot of time just staring at him.
She saw his lips quirk.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m glad you like my looks.” His shoulder brushed hers as they threaded their way through the milling teens in the hallway.
“Figures.”
“Hey, you said it.”
“I did not.”
“Those brown eyes are a dead giveaway.”
“Please. I haven’t had my coffee this morning.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“My own.”
His brow quirked again.
“What? Surprised I know how to accept responsibility for my own shortcomings?”
“Surprised you’d admit it, maybe.”
The cheerleaders kneeling along the tile floor of the hallway painting a basketball banner paused to stare at Adam. Molly barely refrained from rolling her eyes. Especially when Adam winked and greeted the girls.
“Watch the flirting, would you. These girls are underage.”
“Give me a break, Miss Kincade.”
“Gladly, Mr. Walsh.” She stopped in front of room 3. “Here’s where I get off.”
“Hmm. Mind if I come in for a minute?”
She didn’t like the sound of that “hmm,” but she wasn’t about to ask him about it. “Do you think your ego can make it though the door?”
“You’ve got a smart mouth for such a little thing.”
“Call me little again, and you’ll be sorry.”
“Promises, promises.”
Everything within Molly stilled. A distant memory slammed into her—an image of her and Jason amid the tangled sheets of her queen-size bed. She shook her head, chiding herself for her thoughts. Why did Adam Walsh keep unknowingly poking at her memories of Jason?
She put her purse in the drawer of her desk and got out her attendance sheet. “Was there something you wanted from me?”
Adam hitched his hip on the corner of her desk. If she only knew how much he wanted from her. He wanted her body and soul, wanted to draw her into his arms every time her thoughts slipped into the past, every time that achingly sad wave of emotion hit him. As he’d learned to temper his strength, he’d learned to block his telepathy.
Except, with Molly his blocking techniques weren’t working. Her thoughts and emotions were so powerful they slid right past his barriers.
It was pure torture. It was also pure torture not to stare. She hadn’t changed much in the past year, other than the slightly sad tilt to her almond-shaped cinnamon eyes. She had the smooth complexion of a highclass model. And those lips. They were the stuff of every man’s fantasy. He remembered that Molly had always complained about her lips, claiming they were too big.
And if he didn’t stop thinking about them, he was going to embarrass himself right here in room 3 of freshman English.
His gaze lowered to the hem of her short skirt, which had ridden up dangerously high on her thigh.
She caught him staring and tugged at the material.
“Do you mind?”
He closed his eyes, trying to marshal some control. “You’ve got great legs, Miss Kincade.”
“Careful, Mr. Walsh. In this day and age, a person could get in big trouble for making comments like that.” It wasn’t a threat, nor did her words carry any heat. Molly had never been one to run to others with a complaint. No, if need be, the little dynamo simply came out swinging, verbally or otherwise. It was an impressive sight to behold. One he’d sorely missed.
“I wanted to talk to you about last night.”
She ducked her head, several strands of fiery auburn hair escaping the bonds of the single braid that hung down her back. “What’s to talk about?”
“What you were doing there for starters.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but since you did lend a hand, I suppose I owe you.”
She stopped, her brown eyes meeting and locking on to his. He’d always admired her directness.
“You disappeared before I had a chance to thank you,” she continued.
Adam grinned. “Not dousing me with pepper spray was thanks enough.”
A dimple peeked out in her cheek when she returned his smile. “I’ve never used the stuff before. It hasn’t been legally on the market for long. If you want to know the truth, I’ve been scared to death of it. Chances are it’d blow right back in my face, and then I’d really be in a mess.”
“All the more reason for you to stay out of neighborhoods like that.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t have much choice.”
“We all have a choice, Molly. You made a bad one.”
Her cinnamon eyes shot sparks. That was another thing he remembered. Her temper had a short fuse. As quickly as it flared, though, it burned out. Still, he waited for the retort. She didn’t disappoint him. Confounded him, perhaps, but didn’t disappoint.
“The welfare of my kids is never a bad choice!” She reached for a folder and snatched o
ut a paper. “Just look at these scores. Lamar Castillo is one of the brightest students I’ve ever taught. But he spends more time working in a garment factory than he does in school.”
“So you were making a house call to browbeat him into coming to class?”
“I don’t browbeat. I’ve been trying to contact his mother all semester. She won’t come to me, so I decided to go to her. Lamar’s worth it, Adam. He’s got a bright future ahead of him, and I’m determined to see that he has a fighting chance. The problem is, we keep butting heads. I’m determined to feed his exceptional mind, and he’s equally determined to feed his family.”
“Yeah, well, my determination can probably outmatch the both of you.”
“Ooh, the pretty boy’s passionate about something?”
“You’re damned right. I’m passionate about seeing to it that you remain safe, and I remain sane, and everybody else stays in one piece. And that’s a hell of a tough thing to do when you insist on venturing into rough neighborhoods.”
Molly frowned. “Who appointed you my knight in shining armor?”
“My armor’s tarnished as hell, princess. Makes it easier to slip through back alleys that way. The streetlights don’t reflect off the shine.”
“What in the world are we talking about?”
“I’m beginning to wonder. Every time I look at you, I get sidetracked. However, I think we’re talking about your nocturnal habits.”
“Which are really none of your business.”
“So I’m making it my business.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Just stay away from the inner city.”
“Sorry. My kids are important to me. I’ll go to any lengths if they need me.”
“They need you here. In class. Teaching them. You can’t very well do that with a switchblade between your ribs.”
Molly shuddered. She hadn’t wanted to admit how scared she’d been last night. “That was my own dumb mistake. My mind was on Lamar and his little sister instead of on street smarts. I won’t make that mistake again.”
