Private Lessons (Harlequin Kimani Romance)

by Donna Hill

  Her heart was so full that it spilled over and slid down her eyes.

  “Look at me,” he said with a tenderness that was like a lullaby.

  “I love you, Naomi. From the bottom of my soul, I love you. And whatever I need to do to make sure that every day that you walk this earth it’s with me at your side, I’m going to find a way to make it happen.”

  The tears flowed so freely and so fast they clouded her vision, but she found his lips and kissed him with all the thanks and happiness and longing and passion that she had bottled up inside. He loved her. He loved her and she knew it was true and solid and forever.

  And she told him. It poured from her lips and radiated from her body when they coupled and moved as one. She showed him by giving herself to him like she hadn’t with anyone before. She bound them deep inside her body, hollowing out a place in her soul where they could always meet, no matter where they were in the world. And she whispered it in his ear, against his mouth, along the valley of his shoulder, with her fingertips, the rise and fall of her pelvis against his. She told him over and over again.

  “I love you, Brice.”

  And he knew that no matter where he was in the world, this was home.

  They spent most of the night snuggled together, talking in low whispers, as if they wanted to be sure that they’d shut out the world from their hopes and dreams and secrets.

  Much too soon the sun was beginning to light up the sky and part the night like a theater curtain, offering the moon and the stars their final bow.

  “I probably should be getting out of here,” Brice said, although he hadn’t moved an inch.

  Naomi tightened her hold on his waist. “Hmm, not yet,” she said, her voice still filled with intermittent sleep.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Need to take care of a few things before I head out this afternoon.”

  “You sure you can’t tell me?”

  “I promise, I’ll tell you everything the minute I get back.”

  She pouted then pushed up to a sitting position in bed. She brushed away the tangled mass of hair from her face and looked across at him. “Fine,” she said, trying to sound put out. “Don’t tell me.”

  Brice chuckled. “Oh, don’t try the old wounded trick. It’s not going to work.” He reached around and pulled her down on the bed and quickly pinned her beneath him. “But this might,” he said, his eyes darkening as he pushed her thighs apart and lifted her hips to meet the thrust of his entry. He groaned deep in his throat as he slid inside her, shoving the air out of Naomi’s lungs so that it escaped in a gasp from her lips.

  She lifted her knees and pressed them firmly against his sides, holding him in place. And then they found their special rhythm….

  More than an hour later, Naomi, thoroughly loved up and happily tired, leaned in her doorway kissing Brice goodbye.

  “I’m going to miss you,” she confessed.

  He slid his hand between the folds of her robe and slowly caressed her, traveling downward to tease her one last time. She whimpered in delight before tugging his hand away.

  “You’ll never leave if you keep that up,” she warned.

  “Hmm, I know.” He opened the door and he kissed her again. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning. But I’ll call you tonight.” He pecked her on the lips again. “I love you.

  “I love you, too.”

  He jogged down the steps and out into the already humid morning.

  Naomi stood there for a moment and waved, as he backed out of the driveway, before going back inside.

  The camera documented every move.

  Chapter 19

  Trevor had spent the past few days thinking about his life and the wrong turns that he’d taken. He’d made a lot of mistakes and hurt a lot of people along the way, mainly Naomi. It was true what she’d said about him not knowing anything about loving anyone other than himself.

  He’d been so driven by his need to get to the top by any means necessary, it cost him his job and his reputation, at least among those who knew of the scandal.

  He should have stayed up North when he left Morehouse, but something was pulling him back. It was the thought of Naomi and what they once had. He’d come back with the idealized notion that Naomi would be so happy to see him that she’d take him back and they could pick up where they’d left off.

  He knew he didn’t have much of a chance at the dean spot. Besides, he didn’t deserve it. It was just another one of his games.

  Why couldn’t he simply be honest with her, without dressing it up in glib chatter and arrogance?

  He put on his starched white shirt and began buttoning it. The truth was, it was all a facade. A way of protecting himself. If he put enough barriers up in front of him, nothing could get through. It was what he had done all of his life.

  He selected a tie from the rack and slid it around the firm collar. He stood in front of the mirror and adjusted the tie until it was perfect.

  It had been a simple revelation that forced him to look at who he had become. When Naomi let him know that she knew what he’d done, yet she wasn’t threatening or even thinking about using it against him—something he would have done—it made him stop.

  Even after all the pain and humiliation that he put her through, she was unwilling to become as despicable as he was, to stoop to his level.

  He stared at his reflection, barely recognizing the image of the man in front of him. He wanted the old Trevor Lloyd back, the one with integrity and humanity. He hoped it wasn’t too late.

  Professor Frank Lewis locked his office door and returned to his high-backed leather chair. The manila folder was on his desk. It had been slipped under his door as per the arrangement. He turned the folder over and unfastened the metal clasp.

  He pulled out several sheets of photocopied images along with even clearer photographed ones. It was obvious that some of these were taken with a cell phone. Those were the ones printed out on a copy machine. The others were from a high-speed camera.

  But in both instances there was no doubt who one was looking at. Dr. Naomi Clarke and her secret lover, Brice Lawrence.

  Frank chuckled as he looked at the images one after the other. They were damning. They were irrefutable. They were his ticket to the position of dean—a position that he deserved.

  Naomi had been a thorn in his side for years. She gained tenure before him. She always landed the best schedule, her pick of classes. Her papers had been published in journals around the country and out of it. And he still struggled. It wasn’t fair. He worked hard. He deserved to be recognized. And he would be.

  These pictures would finally sink her. There was no way that the board would approve her for the position.

  Frank chuckled and leaned back in his chair, spinning it around toward the window. Finally his day was coming. He tucked the photographs back in the envelope and stuck them in his briefcase. He got up, turned off the lights and walked out, happier than he had been in a long while.

  “We did it, man, we pulled it off,” Carl was saying, clapping Brice heartily on the back as they walked out of the Marriott Hotel restaurant.

  “I know it’s hard to believe. It’s been a struggle. Almost ten years. But we’re about to reap the rewards of our work.”

  “Now that we have the financing in place, we need to secure the location and a board.”

  “I know. I want to talk with you about that. I’ve been doing some research with all these classes that I’ve been taking and…”

  Trevor was parked across the street from Naomi’s house. He’d been sitting there for more than an hour, trying to get up the courage to cross the street and knock on her door. Every time the nerve welled up in him and he had his hand on the car door handle, something stopped him. Finally unable to stand his own cowardice, he got out and strode across the street before he changed his mind again.

  He walked up the steps to the front door, took a deep breath and rang the bell.

  He heard the bell echo inside the house
. Moments later he heard footsteps and then Naomi’s voice.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Trevor. Please. I need to talk to you.”

  “Go away, Trevor,” she shouted from the other side of the door. “I told you to leave me alone.”

  “Naomi, please. Okay, look I won’t come in. You come out. Sit with me here on the steps. What harm could that do? Just give me ten minutes. That’s all I ask, and I swear I’ll go away.”

  Naomi peeked through the peephole. She pressed her fist to her mouth.

  They would be outside. He wouldn’t dare try to get cute in front of the neighbors.

  She unlocked the door and opened it. “Talk,” she said, then sat down on the top step.

  “Thank you,” he said, and sat down on the step below her.

  Naomi folded her hands on top of her knees. “Well, I’m listening. You said ten minutes.”

  He lowered his head for a minute, trying to pull the words together that he’d been running through his head for hours, days.

  “When we were together, I was afraid all the time.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Just…listen,” he said, holding up his hand. “I was afraid that one day you would wake up and realize that I wasn’t who I was pretending to be.”

  “Really?” she said, the sarcasm dripping like sweat.

  “I know I deserve that. But you have no idea what it’s like being the other half of you.”

  She blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “Naomi, you have two doctorates, a tenured seat at a major black university, you’re published in journals around the world, a sought after lecturer, you speak, what? Three different languages?” He shook his head threw up his hands. “And beyond being brilliant, you’re beautiful inside and out.” He lowered his head. “It was like, whenever I was with you, my own light would go out because yours was so bright.”

  “So it’s my fault that you lied, that you cheated on me, that you married someone else?” She jumped up. “Please tell me that’s not why you came here,” she said, the fury burning her throat as she glared down at him.

  “I came to tell you that everything that I did, the lies, the women, the marriage, even the scandal at Morehouse, was my own stupid way of empowering myself. It wasn’t you, Nay.” He stood up. “I wanted to blame you. I did blame you, because that was easier than admitting the truth.

  “I wish I could go back and fix everything. But I can’t. I wish there was some way that you could find it in your heart to forgive me for what I did.” He breathed deeply. “In a perfect world, you’d take me back and we would find a way to make it work. But I know that’s not going to happen. I do want you to be happy, Naomi, with whoever can bring that light to your eyes. I mean that.”

  Naomi listened, surprised and deeply moved. This may have been the first time in all the years that she’d known Trevor that he was completely honest with her, showed her a part of himself that he kept hidden behind all the suave and swagger.

  “Thank you for telling me,” she said softly.

  He nodded awkwardly. “I guess my ten minutes is up.” He took a step down. “And about the dean thing. I applied months ago, never thinking that I would be considered, but I knew that whatever happened, it would give me a chance to see you again.” He slid his hands into his pants pockets. “Well,” he said on a long breath. “I’m completely out of confessions for today.” He gave a lopsided smile.

  “I’m sure everything will work out for you, Trevor. I do want that for you.”

  “Thanks. And I plan to let them know I’m out of the running on Monday. So you get in there and kick Lewis’s butt, you hear me?” he said, wagging a finger at her before he turned and walked toward his car.

  “Trevor, wait.”

  He stopped and turned. She ran toward him. She lifted up and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said, looking him deep in the eyes. “I’m finally free inside.”

  He looked at her with the realization of loss and sadness, but with gratitude. “We both are.”

  Naomi went back inside and locked the door. Her world continued to spin at high speed. Had someone told her that Trevor would make that kind of confession, she would have told them they were crazy.

  It was really sad, she thought, as she picked up some magazines from the coffee table and put them back in the rack, that Trevor felt so insecure about himself all those years, and that he caused so much havoc as a result of it.

  But she needed to hear him say it, say it with truth and from the bottom of his heart. There had been a part of her that had felt inadequate, less of a woman, incapable because of what he had done to her—and all her brilliance, her degrees and education hadn’t made up for it.

  She turned out the lights and went upstairs. In a good kind of odd way, she felt herself and her world changing. And in celebration of this newness she was going to watch a reality television show!

  Just as she was settling down and trying to figure out why anyone would take all kinds of abuse from a cook, her phone rang.

  She popped up in bed. “Brice! Hey.”

  “Now that’s the kind of greeting a man wants to hear from his woman. How are you?”

  “I’m great, but missing you. I’m watching Machete, some kind of reality cooking show.”

  Brice broke up laughing, imagining his brainy, sexy other half attempting to make sense of reality television.

  “Don’t try to figure it out, just enjoy it.”

  She pointed the remote at the television and turned it off. “Enough of that, what’s going on? Where are you?” She folded her legs Indian style.

  “About a half hour away from you. I managed to get on the late flight out on standby. Feel like some company?”

  “Hmm, let me think about it. Yes! Of course. Did you eat?”

  “Airplane food.”

  “No problem. I’ll fix something.”

  “Humph, a woman who is fine, smart and can cook. Have mercy.”

  Naomi giggled in delight. “Just you worry about getting your fine self here.”

  “Before you know it. I have so much to tell you, baby. We need to celebrate.”

  “I can’t wait. Hurry. Slowly. You know what I mean.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, I will quickly take my time. See you soon.”

  “Woo-hooo!” Naomi hopped down off the bed and twirled around in a circle in her bedroom, then hurried downstairs to put together something to eat.

  Frank Lewis hung up the phone. A broad smile of smug satisfaction hung along his thick lips. The board had agreed to convene a special meeting to review the charges that he’d leveled against Naomi. It was simply a matter of time now, Frank realized. She would be out and he would be in. The way it was supposed to be. Finally, he could knock her off of her pedestal of superiority.

  “Come on and eat, Frank,” his sister, Martha, called out from the kitchen.

  Frank pushed up from the overstuffed club chair in the den and went to the kitchen where his sister, brother in-law, Harvey, and his niece, Pamela, were already seated.

  Chapter 20

  When Brice arrived on Naomi’s doorstep he couldn’t wait to see her smiling face and hold her in his arms again. He felt as if he’d been gone a month instead of a day.

  The minute she opened the door he knew something was wrong, even as she tried to force a smile and hold on to him as if she was afraid he would blow away. It wasn’t an embrace of need, it was one of desperation.

  He held her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “What is it?”

  She swallowed over the dry tightness in her throat. “Come inside.”

  “They didn’t tell you what it was about?” Brice asked as they faced each other across the table.

  “Only that there had been allegations made against me, and apparently there were photographs.”

  “What?” he asked, alarmed in a whole new way. “Photographs?”

  “That’s wh
at the chairman said. And they feel that it’s serious enough to warrant a meeting with them, first thing Monday morning.”

  Brice’s knight in shining armor gene kicked in and he immediately wanted to find some way to save her, to vanquish the villains that were trying to hurt her, then sweep her away to safety and happily ever after. But he didn’t know where to begin. He didn’t have enough information. But then he posed the question that was burning in the back of his head.

  “I need you to really think, Nay.”

  She blinked rapidly and nodded.

  “Is there anything, anything at all that you think could have been photographed and misconstrued in some way?”

  She frowned, trying to think of what it could be. “I don’t have a clue. I really don’t.” She shook her head in confusion. “I live such an ordinary, dull life of an academic. I go to work, I teach my classes and I come home.” She looked at him and sighed. “I just don’t know what it could be.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “There’s nothing we can do about anything now. So let’s try to let it go, enjoy each other’s company and the rest of the weekend. We’ll deal with Monday when Monday gets here.” He got up, bent down and kissed her forehead. “Come on, I could use a hot shower and some sexy company.” He took her hand and gently pulled her to her feet.

  She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her head to his chest. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

  “So am I.” He held her tight. “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  She looked up at him and saw the mixture of sincerity and playfulness in his eyes. “Let’s discuss it in a hot sudsy tub.”

  “I didn’t want to lay it all out before we talked with the investors, but they have agreed to finance the opening of a charter school, based on the mission and criteria that Carl and I have devised.”