Miss Liz's Passion

by Sherryl Woods

  “I’ll ask you again,” he said. “Why do I make you nervous?”

  “You don’t make me nervous, Mr. Lewis.” These flat-out lies were getting to be a habit around him. She scratched harder at her hives. “You make me mad.” That, at least, was the truth.

  It also made him tense up. “Meaning?”

  “You and I seem to agree on one thing, that Kevin is a bright child. His IQ scores are well within the normal range, at the high end of the scale, as a matter of fact. Despite that, he is failing in school. His behavior is deplorable. In the last week he has bitten one classmate and bloodied the lip of another one. Is that the way you’re rearing your son to respect girls?”

  His distress seemed genuine. “I wish I had known about this sooner. Why didn’t…”

  “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence. When was I supposed to tell you? When it first started happening? I wrote you a note after the first incident. I wrote you again after the second and third. You know that. You also know that my phone messages were intercepted.”

  “Which should tell you that Kevin knew exactly how upset I’d be. I don’t tolerate that kind of behavior.”

  “Kevin’s behavior is not the real problem.”

  “But you just said…”

  “It’s a symptom of his frustration. His self-esteem crumbles more each day that he can’t keep up. From what I’ve observed and what little testing I am competent to do, I would guess that he has a learning disability. I think if you’d agree to testing, we could identify the problem and get Kevin the help he needs. Right now, he needs some positive things to start happening for him. Without the right kind of motivation, he’ll just give up.”

  “Look, I love my son. I want him to have the best of everything, but I won’t baby him,” he said with that stubborn jut of his chin that was so often mirrored on Kevin’s face. “He just needs to try harder. I’ll have a talk with him.”

  Liz could see she wasn’t getting through to him. “In Kevin’s case, it’s going to take more than talk. Please, let me have him tested.”

  “You said he needs the proper motivation. I’ll see that he gets that.”

  There was an edge to his voice that told her exactly what Todd would consider proper motivation. Liz’s heart sank.

  “Why are you being so ridiculously stubborn about this? Your son’s entire future may be at stake and you’re acting as though it’s a personal insult to suggest he have help.”

  “Maybe that’s it,” he retorted unreasonably. “Maybe I don’t see where you get off telling me how to raise my son. You can’t even keep your classroom under control. These fights are happening while he’s under your supervision.”

  “I can’t prevent your son’s disruptions unless I put him in a straightjacket,” she reminded him tightly. “I could suspend him. Is that what you’d prefer? That would take care of my problem, but it would do nothing about Kevin’s.”

  “I’ve told you I’ll take care of that.”

  “How? By punishing him? Pressuring him with expectations he can’t possibly meet? How exactly do you plan to take care of it, Mr. Lewis? Are you capable of teaching him yourself? From what Kevin has told me, you don’t even help him with his homework.”

  He stood up. For a moment she had forgotten how tall he was, how impressively built. She felt her heart catch as he towered over her, his expression cold and unyielding.

  “And that’s my problem, isn’t it? He’s my son. What’s the old saying about teachers? Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach. That’s why you’re in the classroom, isn’t it? You don’t know the first thing about raising a child of your own. You’ve never had to stay up through the night worrying whether a cough would turn into pneumonia or how you could make up for some terrible hurt. I spend every day of my life trying to make up to that boy for the mother he lost, the mother who didn’t want him, didn’t want either of us. I won’t have him thinking that I don’t believe in him.”

  Liz felt the sharp sting of tears. For an instant she wasn’t sure if they were for Kevin and Todd Lewis or for herself. How dare he talk to her of loss as if she’d never experienced one of her own! How dare he suggest that she knew nothing of mothering and worrying and loving!

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Lewis,” she said coldly. She tried to tell herself that he was angry, that he was only lashing out because of what he perceived as an attack on his child. Still, the cruel comments hurt.

  “I think I do know exactly what I’m talking about. I was wrong about you yesterday when I said you understood kids. You don’t know the first thing about real kids and their needs. You learned it all in some textbook, but when it comes to kids who don’t conform, who fight and get dirty and make mistakes, you can’t handle it.”

  A memory, as sweet and clear as it was painful, skittered through her mind. Laura looking angelic in her new Easter dress. Then, moments later, the bow in her golden hair askew, a smile of delight on her face—and chocolate streaked from head to toe.

  Todd’s accusation was true. She had yelled at Laura over a silly dress. She had been upset. And it had all been over nothing. Today she would give anything to take back the words. She would barter with the devil himself to hold her child one more time, to feel those plump little arms around her neck, to kiss that chocolate-sticky cheek.

  She lifted eyes that shimmered with tears to stare at Todd Lewis. In a voice that shook with fury and anguish, she said, “Don’t patronize me, Mr. Lewis. I know exactly how hard it is to be a parent.”

  The words lingered in a moment of stunned silence before he said slowly, “You have a child?”

  He sounded as if the very thought of it were mind-boggling. If she hadn’t been hurting so at the flood of memories, she might have smiled at his startled expression. Instead, she simply shook her head.

  “But Kevin said—”

  “I had a child. She died when she was three. My husband died in the same accident. So don’t tell me about loss, Mr. Lewis. Or guilt. Or worrying. Or loving. I could write the textbook on every one of those emotions myself.”

  Chapter 4

  If Liz’s quietly spoken words stunned Todd, the stricken expression on her face was almost his undoing. She reminded him of a wounded doe. Her eyes turned bleak as her anger faded. As he watched, shadows of fear and dismay dimmed the sparkling amber to a dull, lifeless brown. He felt her loss as sharply as he’d once felt his own, recalling in vivid detail the emptiness of those painful weeks and months after Sarah had walked out of his life, the awful sense of betrayal, the hurt of rejection.

  But he’d had Kevin and, oblivious to his father’s grief and anger, four-year-old Kevin had filled the house with laughter and tears and impatient demands. For the last four years Kevin alone had kept the memory of love alive in Todd’s aching, embittered heart. Kevin had been the one thing left worth fighting for. That much had never changed. He would still fight tenaciously for his son.

  Liz had lost both husband and child. Todd couldn’t imagine anything to compare with that.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly, wishing he knew more comforting words. For the first time in many years he cursed the inadequacies that had kept his vocabulary unpolished, his manner rough. He knew all the right words to keep a crew of a hundred or more men in line and on schedule. He knew just what to say to difficult suppliers or demanding tenants. He even knew the glib and easy words necessary for a casual seduction. But in the presence of this kind and wounded lady, he knew a fierce longing to be a truly gentle man with a gift for mending.

  He doubted, though, if she even heard the simple expression of regret. She seemed to be lost in some faraway place where no one could reach her. A single tear slid down her cheek. She didn’t seem to notice that, either, but his insides twisted at the sight. A woman’s tears had never affected him so before. Sarah had cried often and loudly, using tears as a weapon. He thought he’d become immune. But not now.

  With a tenderness of which he�
�d always thought himself incapable, he reached over to brush that lone tear away. To his astonishment, his calloused fingers trembled as they encountered silken warmth. Another tear slid down to join the first, pooling against his fingertips.

  “Don’t cry,” he pleaded, kneeling down beside her. The tears flowed more rapidly than ever, leaving her cheeks damp and his fingers helpless. He bit back an instinctive oath and said instead, “Please.”

  She looked at him then. She swallowed hard and blinked against the flood of tears, but the raw emotions held her captive. He saw the flare of determination in her eyes, the desperate appeal. Then he heard the tiny sigh of resignation as she wept on, as if the tears had been a long time coming and could no longer be denied.

  Todd prided himself on being cool and distant and controlled. He’d hardened his heart against women when Sarah had said goodbye and no one since had come close to melting his icy reserve. Until this moment. Until tears had spilled down Liz Gentry’s cheeks. Now he found to his amazement that his heart ached for her, wrenched by the awful loss that had bruised her very soul. He wasn’t wild about the circumstances, but he was as helpless to turn his back on her as she was to cease the crying.

  With a ragged sigh of his own, he gathered her to him. Settling awkwardly on the classroom floor, he was unmindful of the surroundings or their earlier, hateful exchange. He cradled her as he might have a brokenhearted child. It was an instinctive response to her need. Ironically, he found that it answered a pull deep inside him, as well; a yearning to protect and cherish that he’d felt for no woman since the early days with Sarah.

  The sensation troubled him, but no more than the wild urgency of desire that zinged through him at the feel of her body in his arms. Yesterday’s flash of hunger had been little more than a prelude to this. Her elusive, flowery scent fired his senses. Her fragility took him by surprise, reminding him in some purely primitive way of his own power and masculinity. She fit snugly against him, her reluctant arms held stiffly at her sides. He stroked and soothed, until her shoulders relaxed and her head rested against his chest. As her tears dampened his shirt, he murmured nonsensically, his voice low and tender. The scene was all wrong. It felt incredibly right.

  She inflamed him. Innocently, unexpectedly, she set his skin on fire and turned the rhythm of his pulse to something hard and swift and dangerous.

  Guilt swept through him, accompanying the passion. He hadn’t meant for his touch to become anything more than a gesture of comfort and compassion, but he knew the instant that she responded, the second that his own muscles went taunt. Too many nights of longing and too many years of loneliness had crept up on both of them. Her pink lips parted on a startled sigh, the hand that had rested lightly against his chest moved restlessly, halting when fingertips touched the heated column of his neck. God, how he wanted her! How he wanted that tentative touch to explore and burn across his flesh! His body throbbed with the wanting.

  It was the look of bewildered confusion in her eyes that stopped him. He struggled to match the overwhelming power of their unexpectedly unleashed desire with something more rational, something they wouldn’t regret. He cupped her face in his hands and gently kissed away the last traces of tears. Anxious eyes watched him…and waited, wanting, it seemed, what he wanted.

  It took every ounce of control he possessed to move away. It took every last bit of strength to quiet his uneven breathing, to meet her gaze steadily as he lifted her back to her chair, settled her there and with a last tender touch let her go.

  His arms felt empty. So damned empty. The sensation was oddly reassuring. It reminded him and perhaps even her that life went on. He knew then that he would not apologize. He would not pretend to regret the first honest emotion he had shared with anyone in years. Not normally one to analyze, he preferred to act. His withdrawal had caught him as much by surprise as had the desperate need he’d felt to have this woman. They were on a course that was unfamiliar to him. For the moment he left it to her to show the way.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked softly.

  “Do?” she repeated, her expression puzzled. Her lower lip trembled and he wanted badly to still it with the touch of his own lips, to taste the salt of the tears that glazed her cheeks with a lingering dampness.

  “About Kevin.”

  “Oh. Of course.”

  Her face, softened by the crying, carefully assumed its professional mask. Her voice, hoarse from weeping, turned crisp once more. Todd regretted that, as he hadn’t regretted the rest of what had happened so spontaneously between them. Still, he turned away and paced, staring blankly out the windows, touching the pots of geraniums that dotted the sills with scarlet. His gift was no longer comfort but time. He gave her time to gather her composure around her like the protective cloak it was. His own emotions were in turmoil.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly into the stillness.

  Frowning, he whirled on her, his own blood still pounding insistently. “Don’t you dare be sorry,” he said. His anger only seemed to dismay her more. He tried to gentle his tone, soften his fierce expression. “You…we have nothing to apologize for.”

  “I do. I should have stopped you.”

  “Nothing happened, dammit. You were upset. I tried to offer a little comfort.”

  “Oh, really?” Her half-formed smile bore a touch of cynicism. “It’s gallant of you to put it that way, but we both know what really happened, what we almost did, and it would have been terribly wrong.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re Kevin’s father. I’m his teacher.”

  “You’re a woman first.”

  “Not here,” she said stubbornly.

  Todd sighed and shrugged helplessly. He knew when he was beat. For now. “There’s no point in arguing with you when you get that high-minded note in your voice. You sound like a schoolmarm a hundred years ago, when some cowboy dared to steal a kiss.”

  Her face flamed with embarrassed color. “The rules haven’t changed all that much,” she said stiffly.

  He wanted to shake her until she admitted that what had nearly happened between them had felt right, had felt good. Dear God in Heaven, he hadn’t thrown her to the floor and made passionate love to her, though that’s what he had wanted to do. Even now, he wanted to kiss the protests from her lips. He moved toward her. Her eyes widened. At her look of near-panic, he muttered a harsh curse under his breath and turned back toward the windows.

  “We’ll just pretend it never happened,” she said hopefully.

  “It never did,” he said with wry amusement.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said softly. He turned around and smiled. “Until the next time…”

  She stared at him, shocked.

  “There will be a next time,” he insisted. “And until then, I want to remember every delightful minute of holding you in my arms. Besides, I’ve never been any good at make-believe.”

  She appeared crestfallen by his refusal to cooperate, by the blatant taunt in his voice. He felt a momentary pang of guilt for continuing to bait her, when he knew perfectly well that flirtation was as alien to her nature as it was natural to his. Yet he would not allow her to hide from the truth, to dismiss that spark of desire as if it had never existed. He’d felt alive again this afternoon and, by God, he wouldn’t change a minute of it.

  She drew herself up, her chin lifting to a proud angle. “Then perhaps you should consider transferring Kevin to another class.”

  “Not on your life,” he said, suddenly furious. “This is between you and me. We’re adults. We’ll handle it. I will not allow it to affect my son.”

  “Mr. Lewis.”

  “Dammit, it’s Todd. Say it.” He bit out the rough demand, taking a step closer. Tight-lipped, she glowered at him. He waited.

  “Todd,” she whispered finally, but she wouldn’t look at him when she said it.

  He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath, until it whooshed
from him. He waited until she glanced up, then said, “Thank you.”

  She nodded. Cool. Distant. Controlled. It infuriated him.

  “About Kevin,” she prodded, clearly determined to get back on safer footing.

  Unwilling to yield to a less personal exchange just yet, he held her gaze, trying to coax back the dangerous flare of intimacy. At last he recognized that the barriers were back in place to stay. He sighed wearily. “What do you want me to do?”

  “There’s a program,” she began. The catch in her voice gave away her uncertainty. There was still a tiny chink in the wall. If he’d breached it once, he could do it again. If he dared. If he didn’t care a whit about the consequences. If he could figure out exactly why it seemed to matter so much.

  She took a deep breath and went on more firmly. “There’s a really good psychologist in the Keys. She works with dolphins.”

  Despite everything, he found himself grinning, the hard knot in his belly dissolving as he came back to straddle the pint-sized chair beside her. “Dolphins? They need shrinks?”

  To his delight, she smiled back, albeit a bit tremulously. “They do say they’re almost human.”

  “Okay, I’ll take your word for it. What about this psychologist?”

  “Ann Davies. She’s a good friend of mine. I’d like to have her test Kevin. Then she could recommend the next step. Maybe he’d even be qualified to be part of her program. It really is wonderful. It’s innovative. If she’ll take him, I just know she could help Kevin.”

  She sounded so hopeful, but even the prospect of testing daunted him. He seized on the one objection that seemed safe, the one possibility of preventing this whole useless process that raised hopes only to send them crashing against reality. “Are you suggesting that I send Kevin down to the Keys to live?”

  “Of course not. He’d just go once a week.”

  “That’s a long trek to manage every week. Who would take him?”

  “If it turns out that’s what’s best for him, you would.” She left him no room to argue about the inconvenience. She met his stubborn gaze with an unyielding tilt of her chin. Gone was any hint of vulnerability. The impassioned firebrand was back.