by Mari Carr
He smiled at her response, closing the door as he followed her into the room. She sat on her desk chair and then gestured at one of the student desks for him. Rather than attempt to fold his tall, muscular frame into the tiny seat, he perched himself on top of it, leaning against the writing surface. She silently admired the way his strong thighs were encased in tight-fitting denim.
Geez, the man is built.
Glancing up, she realized he’d caught her staring at him. Damn, if she was this distracted by his body and that chestnut-colored hair that just begged for a haircut—or at least her hands running through it—how was she going to keep her hormone-driven teenaged girls under control?
“Listen,” she sighed. “I’m sorry to come off like a grade-A bitch here. It’s not you personally.”
“Glad to hear it.” Once again, he graced her with that charismatic smile she was becoming all too fond of.
“It’s the situation,” she continued. “I’m uncomfortable with the thought of you holding a stakeout in my classroom.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. As I said, I’m here to observe the kids, not you or your teaching.”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” she quickly corrected. “I don’t care who watches me teach. What I do care about are these kids. Having you come in here undercover is a bit like inviting the fox into the henhouse. That’s what I don’t like.”
“By referring to me as the fox,” he said, eyebrows lowered, “it sounds as though you consider me to be the bad guy.”
“I’m not saying my kids are saints, but they aren’t exactly living ideal lives. I don’t think we’re doing them any favors by throwing them in prison or juvenile detention.”
“Listen, Ms. Finch. I think maybe we need to clear up a few misconceptions here.” Mac’s use of her title clued her in to his offense at her words. “Despite what you think, I’m not the criminal here. I’m not trying to trap or trick these kids. The fact of the matter is, some of your students are doing some pretty shitty stuff and one thing we don’t have is the luxury of time—time for you to save them all with your feel-good books and chocolate chip cookies. I live and work in the real world, Pollyanna.”
She exploded, furious at his belittlement of her attempts to help her students. “How dare you make fun of me! You don’t have a clue what I’ve been accomplishing with these kids. You wanna call me Pollyanna? Fine! I’d rather be thought optimistic than walk around with your ‘attack first, ask questions later’ approach to life, Attila.”
“Optimistic?” he ground out. “Oh no, sweetheart. When I said Pollyanna, I meant naïve, and I’m not sure how you can call me Attila for simply doing my job.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart. And given that your job consists of judging kids at first glance, according to attitude and attire, and then ruining their lives without a backward glance then yes, I think I’m merely calling it as I see it.” Her temper was rising to dangerous limits. The idea of this man sitting in her classroom passing judgment on her kids was more than she could tolerate. “Have you ever stopped to consider the factors that lead these kids to gangs? You think I’m naïve because I concentrate my energy on finding them more positive outlets for their time?”
“I think you may have blinders on where some of your students are concerned.”
“And I think you are willing to believe the worst in all of them without giving them the benefit of the doubt.”
“In my experience,” he replied, “the worst is usually true. I spend my days tracking down thieves, rapists and drug dealers and nine times out of ten, the culprit is a teenager in a gang who does his hustling at school. These are some pretty upstanding citizens you’re teaching.”
“This isn’t going to work.” She slammed her hand down on her desk as she rose to leave the room. “I’m going to tell Mr. Hallstrom to find another class for you to observe.”
“Oh no, you’re not.” Mac grabbed her arm as she passed him. “No one else is going to be privy to this investigation. You’re the teacher he blabbed the truth to, so that’s it—you’re the teacher. Besides, given your attitude toward my job here, I don’t intend to take my eyes off you for one minute. There is no way I’m going to let you jeopardize my work. I have a feeling you’d start slipping warnings in their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches just to thwart me.”
Startled by his grasp on her arm and by how much he knew of her work, she stumbled in her attempt to break loose. He pulled on her arm to stop the fall, directing her until she tumbled into his chest before wrapping his arms securely around her back.
Her fists gripped his shirt for a moment before she loosened them and pressed against his chest with the flat palms of her hands. Looking up, she was unnerved by how closely the lieutenant was holding her. For a second, she thought she could see undisguised lust in his pale green eyes and she felt herself answering the pull before she could think.
She fought the overwhelming desire to lean forward just a bit and kiss him. Instead, she pushed away from him—hard. Turning back toward her desk, she sat heavily in her chair, unable to look him in the eye, her now-lucid mind screaming Idiot!
She wasn’t this kind of person. She was usually so easygoing, friendly, nice.
Well, okay, she did have a bit of a temper, but she could usually keep it under control. Most days anyway. And “easygoing” might be pushing it as she did tend to be a bit stubborn about getting her way, but she was definitely friendly. Sort of.
Now in the course of less than an hour, she’d insulted and been insulted by this man and then actually considered kissing a virtual stranger. Her whole world felt like it had tipped on its axis and she couldn’t quite determine what to do next.
“Kelly…” There was a kindness in his tone that was mixed with confusion and, strangely, it comforted her. She wasn’t alone in her feelings.
It was her turn to stop him. “No,” she started. “Forget it. Mr. Hallstrom made it perfectly clear that he fully supports you being here and I’m obviously not going to change his mind. I suggest that we start over and pretend the last hour never happened.” Rising, she was pleased by the steadiness of the hand she extended.
“Hi,” she said with a strained smile. “I’m Kelly Finch.”
“Jared McNally.” He approached her and accepted her proffered hand—before surprising her by using the handshake against her. He continued to pull her across the desk and didn’t stop until their noses were nearly touching. “I think we should start over too.”
“Mac.” She tried to pull back, but his strength and size were far superior to her own.
“Kelly,” he murmured. “I think I’m going to enjoy teaching you a few lessons for a change.”
Uncomfortable by his smoldering look and infuriated by his smug words, she stopped trying to escape his grip and instead moved closer, allowing her lips to barely brush against his.
“Careful, Lieutenant.” Her whisper was husky and she could sense his growing arousal at her sensuous tone. “As someone with educational training, I’m the one who has every intention of instructing you about a few things.”
“Is that right?” he murmured.
She let his words linger and felt his hot breath wash across her face. She gave him her sexiest smile before pulling away. “Do me a favor and lock up on your way out.”
She giggled at his annoyed groan as she quickly escaped to the hallway.
“Child’s play.” She was actually looking forward to tomorrow and to giving him a run for his money. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad Monday after all.
Chapter Two
“So how did you get so lucky?” Meg asked when Kelly walked into the English Department’s office the next morning.
“Did I miss something?” She was confused by Meg’s comment.
“Hello? Earth to Ms. Finch. Are you blind, girlfriend? I know you met your new student teacher yesterday. Perhaps you remember? Six and half feet of tall, tan and handsome with a stacked body most women would sell the
ir souls for? And he’s not some wet-behind-the ears frat boy fresh from college either. He’s a man—a fully-grown man. Must be one of those career switchers. So I repeat, how did you get so lucky?”
She rolled her eyes over Meg’s drooling comments.
“Pardon me, Meg, but I could have sworn you just recently married Mr. Perfect. Honeymoon over so soon?”
“Puh-lease,” Meg drawled. “You know I love my husband but I didn’t gouge my eyes out at the altar. I can look.”
“Maybe I should tell Rob about your roving eye,” she teased. Her best friend, Meg had been married less than a year to Rob Madison. No one on earth had been more surprised than Kelly when Meg had returned from a dream vacation with not only a tan, but a hunky, rich boyfriend. Fresh from maternity leave, Meg was struggling with the choice of continuing her career or staying home as a full-time mom.
“Don’t you dare,” Meg scolded. “Man has a jealous streak a mile wide.”
“How’s my beautiful goddaughter?”
“Manipulative,” Meg replied.
Kelly laughed at her quick response. “She’s not even two months old. How can she be manipulative?”
“I swear she knows the second Rob walks in the door. She’ll be crying her damn head off all afternoon and the moment Daddy comes home, she turns on the charm, cooing and smiling. Rob thinks she’s an angel come down to earth because he never hears her squalling loud enough to shake the shutters.”
“I think maybe she has both your numbers.” Kelly grinned. “She knows you can’t stand for her to be sad, so she piles on the tears so you’ll carry and rock her and sing to her. And she knows Rob is a sucker for a sassy grin, so she gives him his money’s worth. I seem to recall Rob mentioning at the wedding reception that it was your grin that sealed the deal on his heart.”
Deep dimples claimed Meg’s lovely face as she conceded Kelly’s point. “She’s such a doll. Rob and I stand by her crib at night for hours just watching her sleep. Oh Kelly, I can’t wait for you to have a baby! The experience is so much more than you could ever imagine.”
“I think maybe I should focus my attention on the husband part first.”
“Which leads me right back to my original conversation. Perhaps Mr. Right will be sitting in your classroom this very morning.”
“Actually, you can forget about the student teacher.” Kelly stumbled over the lie, uncomfortable with keeping a secret from one of her dearest friends. If she was being honest with herself, she was incredibly attracted to Mac. If she was being equally truthful, she also knew they were like oil and water and destined to butt heads from now until the end of this assignment. “Go ahead and strike him off your list of men you plan to set me up with. We’re simply not compatible.”
“How on earth do you know that?”
“I talked to him yesterday afternoon and he’s not my type.”
“Who’s not your type?” The same deep voice that filled her dreams last night startled her.
Groaning, Kelly turned slowly, struggling to catch her breath as it was knocked out by the sight of Lt. Jared McNally dressed for school. His T-shirt and jeans the prior day had been deadly enough to her libido, but the image of Mac in dress khakis and a buttoned-up shirt and tie were fatal. She slowly closed her eyes and prayed for strength in an attempt to retain the smallest part of her waning self-control.
“Welcome to Lowell High School,” Meg’s cheery voice rang out. “I’m Meg Madison. I teach Special Ed.”
“Jared McNally, but most folks call me Mac.” He reached out to shake Meg’s outstretched hand.
“Nice to meet you.” Meg grinned in a way that let Kelly know she was aware her previous words had been a damn lie. She could see her best friend mentally moving Mac’s name to the top of her set-up list. Damn woman probably had it bolded and underlined as well.
“So, what kind of guy is not your type?” Mac asked again, no doubt loving the fact he was keeping her on the hot seat.
Raising her chin, Kelly felt her face flush before gathering her wits. “Oh, you know.” She looked him straight in the eye, unwilling to let the man intimidate her. “Arrogant and overbearing, opinionated. That type.”
He grinned at her answer. “I can’t imagine that type of guy would attract any woman. What do you think, Meg? Would you date a guy like that?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Meg started. “Of course, my husband, Rob, is rather overbearing. You remember how he was when I was pregnant, Kelly. Never let me do a thing. And I’m sure more than a few of his employees think he’s arrogant, but really that’s just self-confidence. He’s a very intelligent fellow.” She added the last comment as if confiding some great secret to Mac, and Kelly stifled a groan. Meg was honest to a fault and thought far too much. “And in all fairness, he does feel very strongly about his opinions, so I suppose that must mean he’s opinionated… Oh hell. I married that kind of man. What do you think of that, Mr. McNally?”
Kelly and Mac both broke into laughter at Meg’s rambling diatribe about her husband.
“Call me Mac, please, and I’m not sure being opinionated is an insult or else the person would be an uninteresting slob. Personally I think anyone who can’t make up their mind about a subject and stick to it is boring.”
He was grinning directly at Kelly. Perhaps he wasn’t as turned-off by her strong feelings about her students as he’d insinuated yesterday. Her heart started to beat a bit faster at his smile. It was friendlier today, as if he actually liked what he saw, and she wondered about the sudden change.
“Well, there you have it, Kelly. You’ve just described Rob perfectly and I adore every inch of that man. Guess it’s a good thing he’s not your type. Don’t have to worry about you stealing my husband.”
“As if anyone could pry him away from your side, even with a crowbar.” Her friend had truly found herself the world’s most devoted husband. In spite of the fact she was happy for Meg, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy in the face of her friend’s newfound love. Meg had always been the quiet, reserved one. The one who rarely dated. She, on the other hand, had pretty much worked her way through most of the male population of the town in terms of long, unbearable first dates that never led to a second—and she still hadn’t found Mr. Right.
Mac rejoined the conversation. “You know there’s this theory that people hate characteristics in others that they secretly fear may be their own faults.”
Kelly narrowed her eyes, angrily glaring at Mac. “Are you implying that I’m arrogant, overbearing and opinionated?”
Meg snorted back a laugh before walking toward the door. “That sounds like my cue to leave.”
“Freeze! What are you implying, Meg?”
“Not a thing. I really need to go to class.”
“You think I’m arrogant and opinionated?” She was unwilling to let Meg off the hook. This was news to her.
“Listen—” Mac started. He must have sensed the tense undercurrent and was clearly hoping to break up the fight he’d started.
“Butt out.” She turned back to Meg. “Do you?”
“I think you’re an extremely self-confident, self-assured woman with a strong sense of right and wrong.”
“Good God.” She thought perhaps Mac’s comments were closer to the mark than she’d realized. “You think I’m a bitch!”
“Kelly,” Meg laughed. “Sweetheart, I think you’re the bee’s knees and you know it. You are just what I said.”
“Yeah, but all those words you used are synonyms for arrogant and opinionated and bitchy.” She frowned.
“Lord save me from English teachers,” Meg joked. “Tell you what, Mr. McNally—sorry, Mac. You started this so I’m going to let you finish it. Have a nice first day. You couldn’t ask for a better cooperating teacher than Kelly, by the way.” Meg walked out of the room. From the hallway, they could clearly hear her add the words, “Even if she is arrogant and opinionated!” Her jest was followed by her own loud, pleased laughter.
Kelly rolled her eyes, accustomed to Meg’s teasing manner. Turning around, she found Mac studying her closely, no doubt expecting her to blow up at her friend’s words.
“Meg has a rather twisted sense of humor.” She grinned despite the fact she was once again alone with the man who seemed capable of tying her insides in knots simply by entering a room.
“I don’t know.” He leaned back against the counter, drawing her attention once again to his muscular thighs. She couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like in swim trunks, or better yet a Speedo. Not that she’d ever find out, of course. After all, it was the middle of January in Virginia. He waited until her eyes returned to his face. The cocky look in his gaze let her know she’d been busted again and she shook her head for being so transparent. Damn man was reading her attraction to him like a book. “Meg seems to be an extremely intelligent and astute woman.”
“Such big words, Lieutenant.”
The immediate disappearance of his smile clued her in to her mistake. Glancing around quickly to make sure they were alone, she held up her hand to ward off the chastisement she read on his lips.
“Sorry. Slip of the tongue. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
He stalked toward her and she found herself backing up involuntarily at the anger she saw in his face. In four steps, she found herself cornered in the book room off the office, backed up against the wall and watching him kick the door shut with his foot. The room was tiny at best and finding herself in such close proximity to him left her struggling to take a deep breath.
“I said I was sorry.” However, he simply continued to glare at her.
“Sorry isn’t really enough, Kelly,” he said sternly. “If Meg or anyone else had been in that room, my cover would have been blown in an instant. Not only would you have ruined my chances of working here covertly, you would have made it next to impossible to sneak someone else in without raising suspicion.”
“I understand all of that.” She was unhappy with being treated like a child by this infuriating man.
