by A. C. Arthur
Turning, Thaddeus scooped up the still hissing creature and carried it to the boy. Lowering himself to one knee he placed his free hand on the boy’s shoulder. “What’s your name?”
“Ah, Monty. I mean, Montepelier,” he stammered.
Thaddeus smiled. “Well, Monty. You should put…Igor, is it?…back into his tank. He might get hurt out here.” He handed the boy the snake and watched as he stuffed it into the inside of his jacket.
“Thanks.”
“I’m Mr. Delos, the new history teacher. I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” He didn’t know what to say about the other thing, didn’t want to give too much away if the boy hadn’t really seen anything.
Monty nodded.
While this scene was very quaint, albeit weird as hell, Tayla was tired. She wanted nothing more than to get Mr. Delos settled and see that Monty was sent off to his room. Then she’d go back to her cabin and convince herself she hadn’t seen what was impossible for a person to see. “Okay, Monty. Go on to your room now. Classes start early tomorrow morning, and you need your rest.”
Monty gave Thaddeus a tentative smile before looking at Tayla. “Yes, Ms. Hampton.”
He scurried down the path to the tall stone building that housed all of Grayson’s students.
Thaddeus sensed her distress, and though he felt an overwhelming urge to ease it, he reminded himself that this was a job. His last job. He knew the importance and could not lose sight of the results required by the elders. “Let me see your hand.” He said when he moved closer to her.
Quickly, defensively, Tayla thrust her hands behind her back. “No!” The single word came out a little more forcefully than she’d intended, but she didn’t care. “Your room is that way, Mr. Delos. I’ll see you in my office no later than eight tomorrow morning. Classes start promptly at eight forty-five.” She took a few steps, intending to circle around him and head toward the direction of her cabin, but he stopped her.
Pulling her hands into his own, he looked into her eyes and again found himself sinking into her allure. “It is better now,” he whispered, although he sensed a greater oddity.
She blinked, trying to fathom his meaning. Then she felt her hands cooling. Embarrassed and unnerved, she tried to remove her hands from his. “I said no touching, Mr. Delos. If you can’t follow directions I’m not sure you’ll be a good fit here.”
He loosed his grip until her hand slipped from his but he remained close, very close, to her. Her hair blew in the light breeze, and her light cheeks flushed. She was an exquisite creature, and he felt something slipping inside a door he’d locked long ago. “Where I come from touching is a form of communication.”
He was too close, his scent permeating her senses, making her feel weird, confused, out of control. And she’d sworn she’d never be that way again. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her palms and placed them firmly on his chest. “Then I hope this brings the message home, since you don’t seem to understand my methods of communication.” With all her might she pushed him away from her and stomped off to her cabin.
Thaddeus watched her go, impressed by her strength, amazed by her beauty.
* * *
In his room Thaddeus paced, his bare feet acclimating themselves to the strange feel of the floor. It was called carpet, he knew. Warmer than grass, he noticed that it obviously came in a variety of colors, as the floor in Tayla’s office had been darker. Come to think of it, her entire office was dark, from the deep brown bookshelves that lined the walls, to the heavy oak desk she tried to hide behind. The aura in there was definitely gloomy. He wondered briefly if her living quarters were the same.
She was very different from what he had expected, this woman he was here to protect. While her eyes gave away such passion and depth, her outer being was rigid and guarded. He suspected a dark past was the culprit. But he wasn’t here to go over her past. He was here to protect her from what was to come in the future. Danger was imminent; from miles away he’d felt the persistent anger in the clouds hovering over Grayson Moore.
What he hadn’t anticipated was the raw attraction he’d feel for this woman, this person who needed him but did not know it. In the weeks ahead they would become very close; they had to in order for her to survive. How could he remain close to her, to protect her, when his body was reacting to her in such a strange way? Not really strange, he thought, as he rounded and made another trek across the open floor. He’d felt these stirrings before, hundreds of years ago in his youth.
His home in the Cyclades, near the Aegean Sea, was filled with fair and illustrious goddesses that took pleasure in meeting a man’s every need. And for a time he’d basked in their graciousness, until it became apparent that more was expected of him. While Thaddeus secretly longed for a companion to love and cherish, it was not meant to be. Thus, for a while, he was forced to take the same stance as his father. Poseidon, the god of the sea, was known for his prowess with women, despite his marriage to Amphitrite. Thaddeus, born as a result of one of Poseidon’s many affairs, was living proof of that. Thaddeus regretted the time he’d spent walking in his father’s footsteps and now chose to steer clear of physical or romantic entanglements. It was safer that way.
Dragging a hand over his clean-shaven face, he finally sat down on the edge of the bed and began to undress. First he removed the tie and the shirt, flexing his biceps and pectorals when his chest was finally free of the bothersome material. He reached to his waist, removed his athame—his weapon of choice, his power source. Holding the heavy steel weapon in his hand he remembered what had taken place in the forest and flinched. He’d been so hell-bent on protecting her from that snake he hadn’t thought to protect her from himself—from the knowledge of who and what he really was. She’d seen him and the beginning of his transformation. And he knew she’d never understand.
“Idiot,” he murmured as he tapped the hilt of the athame to his forehead.
What was she thinking about him right now? How did she feel about what she’d seen? He’d tried to tap into her thoughts while they were in the forest but her own probing gaze had prevented that. Removing the rest of his clothes, he lay on the bed, letting the brisk night air that seemed to creep through the stone walls of his room cloak him. Closing his eyes he cleared his mind of everything except her, and just like that, she appeared as if in the room.
Her hair was long and flowed down her back like flames licking at the earth, her face, the color of the sand that lined the beaches of his home. High cheekbones, full lips and stunning eyes that stared back at him, suited her face. She wore a long gown, white, he thought. She moved gracefully, brushing her hair, smoothing some concoction on her face—he wanted to tap into her mind, to view her thoughts, but he couldn’t grasp them; the vision was blurred, interrupted.
In an instant the white gown she wore was gone, her long, toned body now naked before him. Her breasts were high and full, her waist small but not tiny; his big hands could definitely span her width, but she possessed cushioning that so many other women did not. She had strong legs, muscular thighs, and the dark triangle of hair between them called to him.
Thaddeus grasped the sheets beneath him, tried unsuccessfully to will away the image. She moved closer, coming toward him. She wet those exquisite lips and he found himself licking his own in response. With each step closer, his heart rate increased, blood pumping thick and hot through his veins, pooling at his center, lengthening his manhood.
Then she touched him and he cried out.
With sweat trickling down his forehead Thaddeus sat up quickly on the bed, his breath labored. With angry fingers he pulled the band from his locks and let them fall free.
“Dammit!”
There it was, standing before him like a mountain, the thing he’d tried for centuries to stay one step ahead of—lust for a woman.
He had to get a grip on this tumultuous emotion. It would only hamper his purpose and probably endanger her even more. If he were back home and felt this raging desire he
would thrust himself into the sea, let the torrential waves beat it out of him. But as it was, he was in this modern time, this modern place and he’d have to make do. Standing, he moved toward the bathroom, maneuvered the contraptions called faucets to the coolest temperature possible before stepping inside the shower and cleansing his mind.
* * *
Tayla had just slipped on her nightgown and was now climbing under the thick comforter on her bed. She’d chastised herself for the last hour over the foolish stirrings inside her body.
Thaddeus Delos was her employee. He was here to help the children. He was not for her.
Yet there had been something between them as they stood in her office. He’d touched her hair and stared at her as if he saw something that wasn’t visible to others. He’d made her uncomfortable, something she didn’t like. She’d worked long and hard for control, traveled the span of the country just to gain it, and she wasn’t about to let it slip just for a man.
A breathtakingly beautiful man, she amended.
When he’d stepped into her office so self-assured and masculine, she’d been stupefied. He was broad, like an athlete dressed in clothes that fit him perfectly. Tayla was five feet nine but he was much taller than her, probably by almost a foot. What surprised her most about his appearance was his hair. Jerome kept his short on the sides, his natural dark curls twirling on top. But Thaddeus wore his long, in heavy, sandy brown dreads that, when released, probably fell to the center of his back—his thick, muscular back.
Tayla punched her pillows, turned to her left side and pulled the covers up to her chin. His face was hard, angled, a bronzed color like that of an islander; his eyes dark, unreadable; his lips firm but welcoming when they spread into a smile. That smile was magnificent, pulling at her like steel to a magnet, and each time he bestowed it on her she tumbled just a little bit closer. He was the history teacher, she told herself, who just so happened to be a man.
She breathed an exasperated breath and turned to the other side. In the forest he’d seemed different. Or had she simply imagined that? When they’d noticed Igor in the clearing, Thaddeus had gone from new teacher to protector, his entire demeanor changing. He’d pushed her out of the way as if a mountain lion were on the prowl. Then the physical changes had taken hold—those she still wasn’t sure she believed. Yet she’d stood there watching him as his arms bulged, the veins in his neck thickening with each breath he took. He’d reached for something at his hip and pulled it out. Was it a knife? She couldn’t quite remember, but whatever it was had lit up like a shooting star and she was sure it would have done immeasurable harm to poor little Igor had it been given a chance.
Luckily she’d stopped him, or rather the appearance of Monty had stopped him. His defensive stance had slackened then and he’d looked at her with regret. She’d reached out to touch him because she’d been compelled to do so. Something at the outer edges of his eyes had called to her and she’d obeyed. Then he’d almost burned her. She flipped over onto her back, flattening her palms on her stomach, staring up at the ceiling. That was impossible, he wasn’t on fire; how could he have burned her?
Her hand felt fine now, cool after his touch. She sighed, convinced she was being foolish. He was just a man.
A man that definitely had her complete attention tonight. Her nipples stiffened beneath her gown. She hadn’t felt sexual attraction in years. On the rare occasions she longed for something physical, an abundance of batteries and her little friend tucked discreetly in her drawer could handle it. Or, on occasion, her fingers worked just as well.
Her life was simpler without a man. And knowing what she knew now, there was really no need for one. She could take care of herself, financially, physically and even sexually. She did not need a man.
But his shoulders had looked so strong. She could almost imagine holding on to them as he rode her into an abyss of pleasure. She moaned, her fingers clenching the material of her gown at her stomach and closed her eyes. She saw that smile and wanted to trace her tongue along the line of his lips, wanted to run her fingers along his strong jaw, through his thick hair. Between her legs she began to throb. She crossed her ankles, plastered her knees together. He was probably huge all over. Though his baggy pants disguised his equipment, she had a sinking feeling it was just as exquisite as the rest of him.
Of their own accord, and because she was going to scream if they didn’t, her fingers moved south, and her legs spread slowly as she let the visions of Thaddeus Delos take control.
Just for tonight, she thought, as her other hand lifted her nightgown. I’ll only think about him tonight, and then tomorrow it’s business only.
Chapter 2
His voice deep and mesmerizing, Thaddeus recited the issues between the Union and the Confederacy as he taught his lesson on the Civil War. Tayla watched from the tiny window in the door as he moved with confidence across the front of the room. If she moved just a bit to the left, she had a view of the first two rows of students in his class. They seemed entranced, but as several of them were girls she couldn’t tell if it was due to his teaching or his good looks.
Lord knows, she’d dedicated enough time of her own to contemplating this fine brother. Tayla loved an intelligent man, a strong and confident man. At that thought she wondered what had ever attracted her to Jerome. Her ex-husband had been intelligent and confident only in certain areas of his life. Unfortunately, where she was concerned he’d played the role of the domineering husband to a tee, his confidence seeming to exude from the mental abuse he inflicted upon her.
She’d invested a lot of time and energy into trying to make that marriage work when she should have known better. Jerome Ranier wanted to control her, his mother despised her and Tayla didn’t have the patience to deal with either. Resting her forehead on the cool pane of glass, she reassured herself that she’d made the right decision, that her two years at Grayson Moore had been the happiest times of her life.
“You belong to me.” Jerome’s words rang in her head, causing her heart to pound.
She was taking deep, steadying breaths when the door shifted. With a hasty step backwards she watched as it opened and Thaddeus Delos appeared.
“Are you okay?”
He towered above her, his thick locks of hair pulled back from his face, his dark, penetrating gaze aimed at her. His impressive breadth blocked her view into the classroom and she found herself taking another retreating step, a hand going to her throat. “I…ah…I’m fine,” she stammered.
She was not fine. Thaddeus had felt her presence the moment she appeared at the door. He’d been doing his best to keep his thoughts focused on teaching so as not to give her reason to question him, but her sudden shift in emotions had disturbed him. That in itself was strange. He’d never felt a connection to a mortal’s feelings like this before. Now he watched as she tried to pull herself together. Her hands moved quickly from her throat to her sides, where she clenched her fists tightly. She would not fidget in front of him, would not want him to see any bit of weakness. That was the type of woman she was, strong and independent.
Thaddeaus was torn between admiration and impatience. Her independence would only hamper his duties. As far as admiring her, there was no room for that either.
“Can I get you something?”
“No.” Tayla shook her head. “I was just observing. You seem to have won them over pretty quickly.” She nodded toward the class behind him.
“I think it is going well.” It was going better than well. The children were like sponges, absorbing all the information he fed them. It also helped that he treated them to graphic tales of fighting amongst the Greek gods that both entertained and intrigued. Although that was not in their curriculum, the kids loved it and after his first day there had begged him for more. How he could be so knowledgeable about these things did not seem to enter their minds.
“Good. Then I’ll just be going.” He was really close, invading her personal space. Tayla had already come to the conclu
sion that close proximity to Thaddeus was not a good idea. She liked looking at him from a distance because that was safe. Close up was another story entirely.
He took her arm. “I will walk you back to your office.”
Tayla attempted to move away. “I know the way. Mr. Delos, I know I’ve told you about touching. This is highly inappropriate.”
Her words were most likely true, but he hadn’t been able to resist. He’d really wanted to stroke her cheek and run his fingers through her thick mane of flaming hair but he’d managed to take only her arm instead. He loosened his grip but still kept the connection. “Inappropriate but necessary,” he said and instantly knew it was the wrong thing.
“Excuse me?” Tayla looked him up and down, trying to figure out if he were being fresh. “I don’t know the protocol at your prior schools, but at Grayson Moore we do not have this type of interaction between staff.”
Thaddeus arched a brow in question. “What type of interaction would you call this?” He called it undeniable attraction, although he knew that too was a mistake.
“Considering the fact that it’s uninvited I would most definitely call it sexual harassment.” She jerked away so hard this time that she stumbled backwards.
But she had nothing to fear. With a stealthy movement she’d only seen by superheroes in movies, he reached and stopped her fall.
“Do I make you nervous, Ms. Hampton?” he asked when he held her securely.
No, not nervous. Horny as hell was a bit closer to the truth. “I am not intimidated by you, Mr. Delos,” she said as she again stepped out of his grasp.
Thaddeus conjured every ounce of control he possessed and let his hands fall to his sides. She was stunning. Her eyes, her hair, that kissable mouth, all tugged at his senses, begging him to react. She’d backed into a locker in her effort to get away from him and he squelched a smile. Never before had he encountered a female that did not want to be touched by him. This was new and added to his growing fascination. “It is not my job to intimidate you.”