“I’m meeting the dean this morning.” He said. “I really don’t have time but I can increase the deposit if you’d like…”
“No, no.” the man said kindly. “That won’t be necessary, Professor Gardner. Paperwork and forms, you know. They have to be on file for all the residents. The laundry room is in the basement and the machines take quarters. If you need change, you can always knock on my door, I keep some handy.”
They shook again, wished each other a fine day and James stripped out of his road clothes. The shower felt good beating against his back and he let the heat wash away the last two days of travel, worry and uncertainty. He was here. He would do what he came to do. He would immerse himself into a new life and try to forget the troubles of the old one. In a year, he would decide whether he would stay or return.
He quickly toweled off, ran a brush through his hair and opened the suitcase. He only had three sets of clothes, enough to get him through the week. He picked his most school teacher looking set and threw them on. He had fifteen minutes, plenty of time to stop for a cup of coffee.
The final interview was only a formality, he’d already been hired, his classes assigned and the secretary had his ID badges printed up five minutes after they took his photo. The dean gave him a tour of the campus and the eighty acres it was on, told him of their proud history and pointed out various buildings of interest. He spoke a lot, didn’t ask many questions and for that James was grateful. He’d memorized everything in the file that Frank had given him, which schools he’d attended, which papers he’d written, which publications he’d been in and the teaching positions he’d held but there wasn’t much personal history created. He’d have to make it up as he went along and try to remember what he told people. He should have been doing that for the past few days, coming up with a good story of his life, instead of getting drunk on the plane and trying to forget. Instead of running around in his bear form through the mountains.
The dean didn’t ask much though and it was easy to deflect, he had been at Blake Salvatore his whole career and knew stories about everything. When they were finally finished with the tour, James sat in his new office and looked at row after row of filing cabinets filled with newspaper clippings, magazine articles and various dissertations. The other professor had been a bit of a hoarder. He wasn’t sure what to do with it, probably just leave it alone. There had to be a lot of good research and study material squirreled away.
He swiveled in the old leather office chair and looked out the window. He was on the top floor of an old brick building at the end of a hallway. Most of the other rooms on this level were empty or used for storage since the new, modern wings had been built a decade ago. The dean had assured him better accommodations would be available at the end of the semester if he wanted. Professor Vogt had been in this particular office for nearly thirty years and hadn’t wanted to move, he was content with the privacy and quietness it afforded.
He had thirty minutes before his first class started and was starting to get nervous. He’d never been a teacher, not in a classroom setting like this. He didn’t know why he’d agreed to it, all of Franks talk about meeting and interacting with hundreds of new people had seemed like sound advice at the time. It’s what you need, brother he’d insisted. Now that it was time to go meet those hundreds of new people, to have them staring at him and expecting him to teach them something had him jittery. What if he didn’t sound like a knowledgeable professor, a man who could impart knowledge and broaden their minds, a man worthy of the tuition fees. What if he came across like a bumbling idiot? He rubbed his palms on his new jeans and tried to tamp down the jitters. There wasn’t a mirror in the cluttered office but he caught his reflection in the glass doors of the curio cabinet. He ran his fingers through his hair, checked to make sure his fly was up and rolled his shoulders. The blue oxford had made it through lunch without getting anything dropped on it, his shoelaces were still tied and he’d remembered to take the tags of his corduroy jacket. Nothing said teacher like a brown cord blazer with patches on the elbows.
James stopped before entering the lecture hall and took a deep breath. He could hear the milling students inside and the hall sounded like it was full. They were either eager to get back to learning or curious about the new teacher. Hopefully a little of both. You got this. He told himself. You’ve battled foes determined to rip you limb from limb. You’ve dined with royalty, hosted ceremonies before hundreds and gave speeches before thousands. They’re just a bunch of kids. You’ve got this.
He took one more deep breath and walked through the door. He had Professor Vogt’s lessons plans and he could follow them or finish any current assignments then start fresh if he wanted. It mirrored his life, stick with the old or try something new.
The plan of attack is simple but as he thought that, before he could check the simple points off in his mind, he started laughing. This wasn’t an attack, he wasn’t fighting demons or backstabbing relatives, he was sharing his knowledge of ancient history with a group of interested people. The chatter in the hall quieted as he entered and puzzled looked crossed many of their faces. What was the new guy laughing at?
When he spoke, the students still whispering were shushed and even the shuffling of books and papers quieted as he introduced himself. His voice was faintly exotic, buttery smooth with an accent that may have been British but wasn’t. He didn’t raise his voice to be heard, if they wanted to hear, they had to listen. The classroom was typical of modern colleges, stadium seating with desks in a half circle around the platform, electronic equipment, dais and whiteboard. He wrote his name on the board and when a phone chirped he didn’t break stride.
“Put your devices on silent mode, please.” He said. “I don’t mind if you don’t pay attention, it’s your money being spent, but I do mind if you disturb others. They are spending their money also and as boring as I may be, they are paying to hear me speak.”
There was quiet laughter then he spent the rest of the class engaging with the students, getting a feel for where they were in their studies and deflecting questions as they grew more comfortable with him. By the end of the hour, the bolder of the female students were trying to openly flirt. Those in the front had wide smiles and he noticed a few top buttons became unfastened and by the end of the class there was a lot more cleavage exposed than there had been in the beginning.
Most of the girls where pretty, James had to give them that, but he wasn’t into girls. He needed a woman. A woman like Isabella, except not as conniving. As the students filed out and the next group started finding their places, he nodded hello and his mind drifted to her. The woman he’d loved. He thought about her smile and carried herself. Her chiseled beauty and incredible curves. She’d never loved him back, though, It had all been a show, an intricate plot to marry into the family. To be a princess and maybe someday a queen. When she realized it wouldn’t be so easy, she’d reacted with anger and spite with only one objective, to utterly discredit him before his people. He shook himself, got his mind back to the present. The lack of sleep was starting to catch up as the excitement wore off and fatigue set in. He hadn’t slept more than a few hours snatched here and there for nearly a week. It was nearly three in the morning back home and the jet lag was starting to kick his ass. When the bell chimed, the students got quiet and he introduced himself to the new crowd. It went much like the previous class as they talked about assignments, the course work they’d already finished and what was expected in the future. He had a break before his final class of the day and with the forty-five minutes, he was going to brew up a pot of coffee. A strong one. He’d spotted a coffee maker in his office and the former teacher hadn’t taken his can of Folgers. Or anything else for that matter, the oversized office was filled with artifacts and books and row after row of file cabinets.
As he hurried to the old part of campus after class he thought the female students were a bit overeager. After he’d seen some of the other teachers, he was beginning to understand. I
t wasn’t just that he was the exotic new professor, he was a good twenty years younger than the rest of them.
He dug out his keys but to his surprise, the door was unlocked. He fought down a wave of paranoia, told himself they hadn’t found him. Some intrepid reporter couldn’t have tracked him all the way to America wanting to question him about the allegations. He tried to damp down the unreasonable anger but the bear in him rose up and he shoved the door open a little harder than he meant to.
“Do you have business here?” he asked a startled girl a little harsher than he meant to.
She squeaked in shock and nearly dropped the handful of files she’d been organizing.
“I’m, I’m sorry.” She stuttered, her eyes wide and mouth in a perfect O of surprise.
James realized he was glaring and softened his stare. She wasn’t stealing, she was obviously a student, and a trusted one if she had a key. A mane of curly auburn hair hung down to her shoulders and her green eyes were wide in her lightly freckled face. She wore jeans, a loose University sweatshirt and the silence became uncomfortable as he kept staring. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“I um, I am Claire Reynolds, sorry, uhm…” She started and broke off then tried again, her voice nervous, speaking fast and not pausing for breath. “I, I’ve been helping professor Vogt get his collection organized, I wanted to finish it for him so they would be ready if he came back and I didn’t know you had taken over his office and…and… and I usually come her every afternoon because I have a break between classes and I didn’t mean to disturb you and...
James held up a hand and smiled. “No, Miss Reynolds, you’re perfectly fine. I’m sorry for barging in on you like that. Professor Vogt told me about you and the project. I came here for coffee, not to disrupt you. It’s been a long week and I have one more class today. I could really use a little caffeine.”
“I can go.” She said and tried to stuff the files into a random open drawer.
“Please, don’t, not on my account.” He said and stepped over to her. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Professor Gardner. I’ll be trying to fill Professor Vogt’s formidable shoes and I implore you to finish. Not only have I inherited his office but the Dean tells me all of the contents also. Professor Vogt has moved to Florida to enjoy his retirement and has bestowed his vast collection to the university’s history department. Or me, in other words.”
He held out his hand and she balanced the folders and shook it.
“I would be grateful if you showed me how it is organized so it may be of use.”
“Of course.” She said and returned his smile.
“But not right now. Right now, I really need that coffee.”
He tore his eyes away and reluctantly let go of her hand. Her skin was soft like velvet and warm like sun kissed flowers. In the email, the old Professor had only words of praise for her but she was different from what he’d imagined. He’d pictured Miss Claire Reynolds as a gray mouse, a skinny little thing with big glasses, not a strong, healthy woman with incredible eyes and skin as perfect as polished alabaster.
He fumbled with the coffee maker as she finished her task. Water came from the tap in the little bathroom, coffee from the half full can and when he couldn’t find the filters, she handed him one before he could even ask. “Professor Vogt kept them in his desk drawer.” She said, averting her eyes from his.
Their hands brushed again and it felt like a spark of static electricity jumped between them. Her face reddened, she mumbled her goodbye and hurried from the room. James stared at the door for a long moment after she was gone. She was shy, her entire body language indicated that she was unsure of what had just happened. He’d been mesmerized by her; he’d felt a jolt run through him that he’d never experienced before. An instant and powerful attraction that had almost left him tongue tied. He closed his eyes, shook his head to clear it, and then proceeded to get the coffee started. He needed it. Jet lag and exhaustion had him gob smacked over a student; he obviously wasn’t thinking clearly.
James fell in his chair, turned to look out the window and breathed deeply, catching a faint whiff of her scent. She was beautiful, like an angel with that head of red curls and eyes as green as the fields of Ireland. He let his mind drift and he wanted to kiss each of the freckles on her porcelain skin and find out what those baggy clothes were hiding. She probably had the most glorious curves and he was drawn to a healthy sized woman that was soft and pliable. He really didn’t care for the fashionably thin women who were boney and hard and angular. Nothing was as sexy as two beautiful eyes set on a cute face and a glorious soft body made for a real man. James swallowed and realized he was becoming aroused just daydreaming about her. He shook his head to clear it then concentrated on the coffee. He’d had a few words with a student, a barely legal student that was half his age he admonished himself. A student! He stood abruptly and looked for a cup. He had to get his mind off her. He was tired and jet lagged and his brain was exhausted. He did NOT have a schoolboy crush and he didn’t believe in love at first sight. That was ridiculous. She was taking the Greek history course but he hadn’t seen her in the previous classes, she had to be in his next, and last, one.
Stop it, she can’t give you what you need either way, she’s too young, too inexperienced and too taboo. You’re going to get yourself brought up on a harassment charge and get fired your first day. Drink your coffee, you idiot. Get your thoughts under control and go finish out the day. Think about her tonight if you need to but for right now, one more class.
He forced himself to calm down, his body was a battlefield between primal needs and logic. One more class he told himself. Then home to bed. It’s the fatigue that’s got you randy as an old goat. Go home and sleep.
Chapter Four
Claire
Claire barely got out of the office before she turned beet red and started fanning herself as she hurried down the corridor. What the hell was wrong with her? Her sneakers squeaked on the tile and echoed through the empty wing as she hurried for the stairs. The new professor was drop dead gorgeous. No wonder so many tweets about # hottiealarm and #profeyecandy had popped up on her feed. She had never felt so inappropriate when their hands touched. She’d done it on purpose just to see if the jolt she felt when they shook was real or imagined. It had been real and when Professor Hottie pushed his hair back, she had to go. She had to get out immediately before she said something completely inappropriate or did something stupid. Before she reached out to push his hair out of his eyes for him and then grab his face and crush his lips against hers. Before she ground her body hard up against his. She shook her head to clear it and hurried over to the cantina. She’d had crushes before but she’d never felt such a raw need. Such a powerful desire. What she needed now was something cold to drink before class.
When she entered the lecture hall, she took a hard left and went to the top of the room, as far away from him as she could. The front four or five rows were already full. Word had gotten out that the new guy wasn’t another old fossil, he was Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome with an exotic accent added in for good measure. A little extra time was spent in the ladies room touching up make up and the prettiest of the girls were vying for front row seats. It was harmless fun; they were giving the professor their idea of a warm welcome. He acknowledged then ignored them for the most part, pretended he didn’t understand any of the double entendres from the bolder girls.
Claire hid and watched from the back of the room. She had her laptop open to take notes but spent the time searching for more information about him. Nothing came up which was a little surprising but he was from Europe. Maybe she wasn’t searching the right web sites, the name James Gardner brought up hundreds of hits but none of them were him. She felt a twinge of jealousy watching the pretty girls make their little comments and their flirting was blatant as he engaged the class. It was a get-to-know-you session, the real work would start next time he promised. She rebuked herself for being childish, for thinking s
he had a chance with him. He was in his 40s and she was barely 21. If he wanted a woman, he’d want someone sophisticated, a worldly lady, not a silly, shy, awkward student. Especially not one that was still a virgin.
Her mind drifted though; she couldn’t help it. He was so gorgeous with the hints of gray in his beard. Of course he taught Greek history, he had the build of a Greek god. She wondered what he looked like without a shirt. Did he have a hairy chest or was it smooth and hard with muscle. His hair curled down around his ears, a shade of brown with a few silver wisps that added distinction. The short beard looked soft and tried to hide away a pair of lips that looked so delicious. Images of those lips on her skin flashed through her mind as she watched him pace the lectern, laugh easily and push the stray lock of hair from his face. She was being ridiculous but she didn’t care. A warm glow spread through her and she didn’t snuff it out, she didn’t think of something else, she let to feeling flow through her and relished it. She was going to remember his face tonight in the bathtub. She was going to recall every detail, every curve of his jeans and the feel of his hand when they shook.
Chapter Five
The House
A few of the girls lingered after class and there were more clumsy attempts at flirting. His attention was on Claire, he watched her out of the corner of his eye until she left the room. She hadn’t spoken in class and he intentionally ignored her. He was afraid everyone in the room would see the attraction or sense his desire if he looked at her. The last of them finally left and he took his time packing his notes away. It had been a good first day, he had pulled it off and teaching wasn’t as intimidating as he thought. In a few days, the silly girls should stop their little flirts when they saw he wasn’t that kind of professor. There wouldn’t be any extra credit grades earned in the privacy of his office. He wasn’t interested in casual sex with skinny, shallow girls. He was interested in the coppery red head that sent electric shocks through him. The animal magnetism was almost overwhelming and he wondered if she’d felt it too. Doubtful, she’d practically fled from his office when he’d stared at her and had hid in the back of the lecture hall. She was half his age, she probably thought he was some kind of creeper. Girls as beautiful as her had dozens of guys her own age lining up to take her out. It would be wrong to try something. Images of his desires, his needs, flashed through his mind. It would be wrong to subject her to them. They required an older, well-seasoned woman who knew how to take control. One who knew what to do. Isabella had loved inflicting pain. It was a high for her, everything in her stone-cold heart was about control. Claire was soft, sweet, naive and innocent. He wouldn’t try to corrupt her.
Heart of the Guardians: Meeting Destiny Page 2