by Neesa Hart
“A lot.”
Her forehead creased. “I see.”
“You know what else?” he asked.
“What?”
“I don’t like her better than I like you.”
Grace blinked. Eli reached over to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Honey,” he said quietly, “I love you very much.”
She froze; she had rejected his efforts to embrace her in the weeks since her mother’s death, but he decided he could no longer resist the urge to comfort her. He pulled his daughter into his arms and pressed her to his chest. “Ah, Grace,” he said into her hair. “Do you know I would do anything for you?”
She nodded. He savored the feel of her thin arms wrapped around his neck. “Are you sure?” he prompted.
“Yes, Father.”
She smelled like baby shampoo, he noted, and the thought made him nostalgic for a time when things were so much simpler. The phone started to ring. Grace wriggled away from him. “I’ll get it,” she announced, and raced from the room.
“Father?” she called from the doorway. “That’s Martin on the phone. He wants to talk to you.”
Eli glanced at his watch. “Well, why don’t you tell him he’ll have to call me later?” He gave her a slight smile. “I think we’d better get moving if we want to get a table at Solanto’s.”
Grace hesitated, then smiled at him. “Okay.” She hurried from the room, and Eli tucked the picture of her smile into his growing reservoir of hope.
5
Liza froze at the door to the lab and watched, intrigued and unwillingly enchanted. Eli, his face a mask of concentration, was explaining a complex equation to a lone student. “All right,” he said, his voice patient and warm, “let’s look at it another way. What’s your favorite color?”
The girl eyed him warily. “Green.”
“Okay, good. What two colors make green?”
“Yellow and blue.”
“Right.” He wrote a Y and a B on the chalkboard. “Are those the only two colors that make green?”
The girl frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what would happen if you added some red, or some purple or some black.”
“Well, it would depend on how much. I used to work in a paint store. There are lots of shades of green.”
Eli looked positively elated. “Exactly.” He began adding numbers to the growing equation on the board. “So fifteen parts yellow and one part blue wouldn’t necessarily make a gallon of white paint turn green.”
“No,” she said. “It would just be a weird shade of yellow.”
“Right.” He scribbled another equation beneath the first one. “So lets say that the elements are like paint. When you mix them in different quantities, you get different results. The elements themselves, like pigments, don’t change, but the equation you use affects the outcome.”
Comprehension dawned on the girl’s face. “Oh, I get it. You can mix hydrogen and oxygen and not necessarily get water.”
He beamed at her. “Precisely.” Over her head, he flashed Liza a bright smile that melted the soles of her shoes to the floor. “Mixing elements is the magic of chemistry.”
Cretin, Liza thought. He was baiting her again, and given the almost angelic look in his eyes, she was finding it difficult to hold it against him. His student, still oblivious to Liza’s presence scooped up her books and slid off the stool. “Thanks, Dr. Liontakis. I was starting to think I was just really stupid for not getting this.”
“Kelly,” Eli admonished, “some people have a tougher time grasping abstract concepts. Their brains aren’t wired that way. It doesn’t make them stupid, just different.” He started to erase the equation. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t properly mix a gallon of paint if my life depended on it.”
Kelly laughed and turned toward the door. “Oh, hi, Ms. Kincaid.”
“Hi, Kelly. How’s it going?”
The girl gave Eli a grateful look, then edged toward the door. “Better now. I think I can finally do my homework.”
“Great. So I take it chemistry’s not as hard as you thought it would be.”
“No,” the girl said, her voice filled with wonder. “It’s really not. I had such a hard time with science at school last year. I didn’t think I could do this.”
“Surprise,” Liza said with a slight smile.
“Yeah.” Kelly laughed. “You know, I even think I like it a little.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Liza assured her.
“Me too.” Kelly looked at her watch. “I gotta go now. I was supposed to meet my friends on the east circle five minutes ago.”
“Well, have a good afternoon, then.”
“I will.” Kelly glanced at Eli once more. “Thanks again, Dr. Liontakis.”
“Anytime,” he assured her.
She hurried from the room. Liza gave Eli a wry look. “No matter what their age, they can’t resist you—can they?”
He laughed. “You don’t seem to be having any trouble resisting me. What was that comment you made the day I met you—something about the ego has landed?”
She cleared her throat. “Yes, well, I’m a few rungs higher on the evolutionary ladder of hormonal development than the average adolescent girl. And I was still trying to recover from the impact of having you appear in my world. That doesn’t count.”
He laughed. “Did anyone ever tell you that you have a charming kind of bluntness?”
“Not in those words, no.” Liza walked into the sunlit room, studying with avid interest a complicated combination glass and steel table where colored liquids traveled from beaker to beaker. “Is this a potential life-saving experiment?” she asked.
“No.” His voice was filled with amusement. “It’s water and food dye.”
That brought her gaze to his. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. People have expectations of what they’ll find in a lab—that looks both interesting and intriguing—and isn’t as disgusting as cages full of rats. It makes students ask questions. I started using that in lectures about a year or so ago.” His amber eyes twinkled—blast him. He was damned near irresistible when his eyes twinkled. “Frankly, I think my audiences find it far more fascinating than they find me.”
She doubted that. “I have to tell you, your students are quite taken with you. You’re getting rave reviews.”
“I’m glad. I’m enjoying them.”
He was watching her with that uncanny probing look that reminded her that he’d kissed her—twice, and left her yearning for more. What was worse, it reminded her, ruthlessly, that this man had seen her dance. Though she doubted he could possibly understand the implications of that, she’d be far less nervous, she was certain, if he’d seen her naked. “You’re fitting in very well here,” she told him finally. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy.”
With a slight grin, he turned to erase the equation from the board. “The male/female ratio is a bit daunting, I’ll grant you.”
“Most men might find it advantageous.”
“I’m not most men,” he said as he replaced the eraser in the tray. When he faced her again, the afternoon sun slashed across his face, throwing it into stark shadow. “I like to concentrate on one woman at a time. It’s like scientific research. I can give more of my attention to the project if I’m not distracted by—other demands.”
Liza felt the familiar tug of awareness flowing through her blood.
She forced those thoughts aside. Digging in her pocket, she produced the certified letter he’d received that morning at the school office. “This came for you about an hour ago. It seemed important, so I thought I’d give it to you now rather than making you wait until this afternoon when the mail gets delivered.”
He accepted it with raised eyebrows, glanced at the return address, then tossed it, unopened, into his briefcase. “Thanks.”
“Aren’t you going to read it?”
“Eventually. I know what it is.” His gaze met hers, held it. “I was actually h
oping I’d see you today.”
“Grace is doing really well,” she assured him.
“She seems to be. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“No?”
“No.” He moved around the desk to walk toward her, his lips curving into a smile. “You know exactly what I want to talk to you about. That’s why you’ve been avoiding me.”
That made her laugh. “Are you kidding? I don’t have time to breathe, much less to figure out how to avoid you. I’m just really busy.”
“Hmm.” He braced his hip against one of the worktables. Why, she wondered, did he have to look so damnably attractive? In black jeans and a black shirt, he practically oozed sex appeal. Even his white lab coat failed to dull the effect. If testosterone had an odor, it would be the musky, heady scent she detected whenever she made the mistake of standing too close to him. One look across a room, even across the campus, could send her blood pressure to the moon. “So, you didn’t show at the welcome reception last night because you were busy?”
“That’s right. Two days in New York left me drowning in paperwork,” she said.
“You were missed.”
“I was sorry to miss it. I usually enjoy the event. It’s a good chance to get to know the new faculty.” She shook her head. “I’m many things, Eli, but I’m not a coward. If I didn’t want to see you again, I’d tell you.”
“Everyone asked about you.” He took a step closer. “I wanted to see you.”
“Sorry.”
His eyes sparkled again. Where had he learned how to switch that on and off? He must know that he could melt at least half the female population with that look. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said softly. She realized, too late, that he now stood mere inches from her, “I thought maybe you were having second thoughts.” He traced a finger over the curve of her upper lip. “About kissing me, I mean.”
“You kissed me,” she pointed out.
“You kissed back.”
She wasn’t about to argue with that. “To tell you the truth, I am having second thoughts. And third thoughts, and fourth thoughts.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it either,” he assured her. “But please tell me you don’t regret it.”
“No,” she said carefully. “I don’t regret it. Reality intrudes every now and then—”
“I hope you’re not listening to it.”
“To reality? Well, not really. But you have to admit, this is a little complicated.”
He pressed her hand closer to his chest. “Why does it have to be complicated?”
Her eyebrows lifted. “I don’t think you have a very realistic idea of what we’re dealing with here.”
“What we’re dealing with,” he said, his voice a low purr, “is a very potent attraction. I want to explore that attraction and find out where it’ll take us.” His gaze narrowed. “I want to make love to you.”
Liza swallowed. Her blood had turned sluggish. “Eli—” she glanced over her shoulder. “Do you have any idea what kind of logistical problems—”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “If it weren’t for the fact that we’re in the middle of the smallest town in the world—”
“It’s not the smallest,” she said.
His lips kicked into a smile as he traced the curve of her mouth again. “It’s small enough. And the campus is even smaller, am I right?”
“Yes.” She pushed his hand away. “It might seem trite to you, but that’s the way it is here. If you and I—” she drew a deep breath—”if we pursued this—”
“We’re going to pursue it, Liza. There’s no question about it.”
She drew a deep breath. “When that happens, we’ll become the primary focus of the gossip vine.”
“So?”
Irritated, she glared at him. “So, where you’re from, that might not be such a big deal, but I assure you, it’s crucial around here. I don’t exactly relish being the center of public speculation.”
He tipped his head to one side. “That’s the reason you quit dancing.”
She cringed. “It’s part of the reason. That’s all you need to know.”
He shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Liza. There’s so much more I need to understand about you. So much more I want to learn.” His fingers moved over hers in a slow caress. “Have dinner with me tonight? I want to spend some time with you.”
“No.”
“Liza—”
“Eli, be reasonable.”
“I hate being reasonable. I learned that lesson in the early days of my career. You never get anywhere by being reasonable.”
“Are you always this persistent?”
“When I want something.”
“Disappointment can build character, you know?”
His laugh warmed her blood. “I have all the character I need, thank you.”
“Crumb,” she muttered.
He took a step closer. “Have I mentioned that I adore you when you say that?”
“Stop.”
“No way, babe. I’m just getting started. I want to know exactly what kind of woman uses ‘crumb’ for a swear word.”
“The kind that lives in a very small town on a very small campus where everyone knows everyone else’s business.” A slight smile fleeted across her lips. “If I said ‘damn’ the foundations of Breeland would crumble to rubble.”
He laughed, and kissed the corner of her mouth. “I want to know everything about you,” he told her. “And I want to know what puts that look of terror in your eyes whenever we talk about this.”
Lord, was she that obvious? She extracted her fingers from his grip. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“No,” he said carefully, “I don’t think you are. And I also don’t think you’re really all that terrified of a little idle speculation. But I think you’re a little afraid of yourself—a little afraid of what you’re feeling.”
Liza backed up a step. “This is moving kind of fast for me, that’s all. I don’t normally make rash decisions.”
He hesitated, then shook his head. “You and me, Liza,” he waved his hands between them, “it’s—inevitable. It’s like a chemical reaction.”
The air radiated with pure sexual tension. Her body was tingling with the same kind of energy she felt in the seconds before she danced. She wasn’t sure she could take much more of this without melting into the floor. “Eli, please.”
“Oh, I plan to,” he assured her. “I plan to please you in so many ways you’ll be begging me to stop.”
“Every cell in my brain is screaming that this is not a good idea,” she protested. A trickle of sweat glided down her spine. “I can’t think this fast.”
“Then don’t,” he muttered.
Her eyes shot open. “Eli—”
He shook his head in frustration. “You are probably the most stubborn woman I have ever met, do you know that?”
The question made her smile. “I suppose you’ve grown accustomed to women who simply fall at your feet at the merest hint of your interest.”
“As a matter of fact,” he said, sounding arrogant enough to live up to his title as The King of the Jungle, “I have.”
That made her laugh. “Then I suppose Grace isn’t the only one who’ll be getting an education this summer.”
His curse was succinct and to the point. She shook her head in silent admonishment. “If you’re feeling that frustrated,” she teased, “I understand Amelia Pankhurst has expressed an, er, interest.”
He gave her a look that could have curdled milk. “You’re a laugh a minute, do you know that?” With a swipe of his hand, he ruffled his beautiful black hair. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were enjoying driving me to new heights of sexual frustration.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
“That’s not the only feeling that’s mutual, and you know it.”
She did—and didn’t bother to deny it. Instead, she decided her nerves had stood as much close proximity to
him as they could take for one day. She deftly changed the subject. “I’ve got to get to class,” she told him. “It’s been too long since I’ve danced this much—and if I don’t spend a half-hour stretching, I’ll pay for it.”
“Massage is good for that, I hear. I took physiology classes in med school, you know? I could probably do a reasonable job of working out your muscle tension.”
He could probably melt her bones into puddles if he set his mind to it. Deliberately, she ignored his suggestive comment. “I just stopped by to give you the letter and let you know that Anna wanted to know if you’re free for dinner tonight.”
“I hadn’t planned on being free,” he told her with pointed reference to his earlier invitation, “but it seems my plans have changed.”
Liza nodded. “I’ll tell her. She’s having dinner with Bill Maxin. He’s a member of the board of visitors and one of our biggest financial supporters.”
“So I should make a good impression?”
“It wouldn’t hurt.”
He studied her for several seconds. “Will you be there?”
“I hadn’t planned on it.”
“What if I say I won’t go unless you go?”
“Bill is an important financial support for Breeland. It’s extremely important for us to keep him on our side.”
“Then this is sort of a command performance.”
“It would help, considerably, if you attended. You probably don’t know this, but it wasn’t particularly easy for Anna and me to persuade the board to invite a male faculty member to the summer program—even one of your reputation.” Her lips twitched. “Although, if anyone is eaves-dropping on this conversation, perhaps I should say especially one of your reputation.”
“You’re absolutely hilarious, you know that?”
Now serious, she added, “Look, traditions are strong here. Bill supported us—with his vote and his money. It would be—advantageous—for you to meet your benefactor.”
Eli nodded. “I understand. I haven’t spent the majority of my career conducting scientific research without learning the politics of fund raising.”
“Good. Then I’ll tell Anna you’ll be there.”
“If you will,” he said softly.
