Rude Awakening

by Veronica Chadwick

  Scanning the heads bowed over their work, she sat down behind her desk with a sigh. Two more class periods to go. Thank God they all had tests today. She wasn’t sure she could have stood at the board or led them through a lesson with any clarity at all. All she could think about now was the day planner. Brent must have put it there to hide it, but why and from whom? Those were the questions making her nervous.

  Absently she rubbed her arms as she reviewed the facts. Ronald wanted the day planner, badly. Brent hid the day planner. Brent was dead. Someone tried to break into her home, possibly twice. Was all this connected? Brent must have found out something on Ronald. Something incriminating.

  By the time sixth period was over and the students had all scrambled out to their various modes of transport home, Jaimee was afraid to find out what was in that day planner that Ronald wanted so badly. She quickly shut the door as the last tone sounded and went to the cabinet. She stood on tiptoes, reached behind the stack of books, and retrieved Brent’s day planner. Her hands were shaking as she opened it while walking back to her desk. More than likely it was whatever was on the small flash drive that was tucked into the inside pocket. Maybe he wasn’t hiding it, she tried to convince herself. Maybe there was another explanation. But there wasn’t much else that made sense. No, there had to be. She was just being paranoid, letting her imagination run away with her. For crying out loud she was exhausted, she couldn’t think straight anyway.

  Hadn’t Ronald said that there were addresses and information the company needed? Okay so that did seem a little—a lot—odd. No, that Brent had hid the day planner made the whole situation suspicious. That Ronald was so antsy to get a hold of it meant that it had something to do with Ronald. She was sure of it. But Detective Butler said they’d been looking for the burglar for a while. So, more than likely the break-in had nothing to do with the day planner. Unless, they knew she usually kept the key to the cabinet in her tote. But how would they know that? Jaimee straightened and tried to think past her budding headache. The day she found her files moved, could someone have been after the key then?

  Besides the flash drive there was a list of names and numbers that appeared to be scratched down hurriedly in Brent’s handwriting. Addresses and contact information, dates neatly recorded on the calendar: meetings, office events, work deadlines, her birthday. He’d gotten her a very nice leather-trimmed desk set complete with desk blotter, pencil and letter holder. Brent never was the intimate, romantic type. She’d always just accepted that about him. But now as she sat there thumbing through his personal day planner, her mind and emotions whirling around like mad, she could only think about Brent. What had their seven years of marriage meant? Had she ever really connected with him?

  With a sigh she closed the book, snapped it shut and frowned down at it, rubbing her thumb over the fine leather. Their life together was so very uneventful. Brent was supposed to be uncomplicated and predictable, kind of dull even. She shrugged. Now she wasn’t sure that was true. Did he not tell her about this because he was trying to protect her? Did he ever talk to her about much of anything? Her frown deepened as the pain in her head bloomed brighter.

  She hated to wonder, to call their relationship into question. He was gone from her now. When she lost him she’d hurt, she’d been devastated. She’d lost her best friend. But did she lose her heart? She loved him, but she was never passionate about him, he was never passionate about her, never her champion.

  Lucas was her champion. He treated her like a goddess. He was passionate for her. He made her feel beautiful, sexy, even admired, and she had fallen for it completely. But with Lucas it was lust. Right? What was the difference between love and lust anyway? The truth was, she wanted more than just sex with Lucas. But he was always trying to take over, take charge of her. It was arrogant and infuriating and at the same time a part of her didn’t want him to back down from it. And it turned her on in a major way. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat as she recalled just how aroused his dominance could make her. Focus, Jaimee, she admonished herself.

  “I can’t think about this now.” Her head was pounding now and she was desperate for sleep—deep, dreamless sleep.

  “Mrs. Turner.”

  The strong bass of Malaki’s voice had Jaimee jumping, nearly falling off her chair. “Yes?” she squeaked.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, much quieter this time. “I’m here to escort you home.”

  Jaimee’s surprise turned quickly to annoyance. “I don’t need an escort.”

  Malaki’s expression didn’t change. “Doesn’t matter. You have one.”

  She gave him her sternest look, even narrowed her eyes. He just crossed his arms and waited. He filled the classroom doorway, dressed for battle. His black T-shirt fit him like a second skin, stretching over his broad chest and massive biceps. The black jeans he wore seemed molded to his hips and thighs, no gun belt. Jaimee wasn’t fooled, the man had a weapon tucked somewhere. A man like Malaki was always armed.

  “I don’t want an escort.”

  Not a word, his body remained solidly planted. Not so much as a twitch marred his mask of indifference. Damn, was he a robot? His expression remained stoic as she glared at him.

  “Grrr. Fine!” She dropped the day planner in her file drawer, locked it and slid the key into the side pocket of her tote. After gathering her things she sent him another icy gaze that would have had her most unruly student cringing in fear. Nothing.

  He stepped back as she passed, took her heavy tote from her, gripping the straps in his big fist as though he were hauling out the trash and motioned for her to lead the way. With an exasperated sigh she flipped the lights off and moved past him. He closed the door behind her and followed her down the hall. It amazed her that the huge combat boots Malaki wore made no sound on the tiled floor when even her soft-soled slides made a soft pitter pat that echoed through the hall. The man was like a ghost, a very large, very intimidating, very good-looking ghost.

  Wait. Homes got broken into every day. Did all burglary victims get escorted home from work after? Do they all get huge Polynesian bodyguards? She halted and spun around. “Why do I need an escort?”

  “Not for me to answer,” he said simply, gazing down at her.

  “Which means?”

  “Not for me to answer,” he repeated.

  “You know, you just won’t tell me.”

  He said nothing. Just continued to unflinchingly meet her gaze.

  “I have a right to know what’s going on, especially if my life is on the line.”

  “Yes.”

  “So?”

  “Not for me to answer. Walk, or I’ll carry you out.”

  “Hey, Jai…Whoa!” Janice came around the corner and froze, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open. “Are you being kidnapped? ’Cause if you are, I don’t know whether to call for help or ask if I can come along.”

  Jaimee could have sworn she saw the corner of Malaki’s mouth twitch when she looked back at him. “This is Janice Benningfield, she also teaches eighth-grade English. Janice, this is Malaki Papalu. He’s…uh…”

  Malaki offered her his hand and Janice gave him hers, still in awe. “Hello, Janice, I’m Jaimee’s cousin.”

  Jaimee nearly snorted at the hilarity of Malaki’s lie, but managed, she hoped, to keep a straight face.

  “Oh wow, no family resemblance at all.” Janice smiled brightly up at him.

  It appeared there was one person on the planet who was impervious to those infectious smiles of hers. There wasn’t so much as a slight curve of his lips but there was a silvery glint that lit his dark eyes. It occurred to Jaimee at that moment that one sharp look from those eyes could shake a person to their soul. One way or another.

  “I was adopted,” he answered blandly.

  “Ah…well, that explains it,” Janice said softly, her eyes focused on his mouth. Jaimee resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

  “Yes.” Malaki looked down at the
hand Janice now held between both of hers.

  “Oh sorry.” She laughed, her cheeks flushing pink as she released his hand. “It was very nice meeting you, Malaki.” Just because she had two children at home and a very attentive husband didn’t make Janice immune to the sheer maleness of Malaki’s presence.

  “And you, Janice.” He actually bowed slightly.

  “See ya Monday, Jaimee.” There was that wicked grin again which meant she’d be having a chat with Ms. Janice over planning period Monday. Thank God she wouldn’t be asking her to fix them up. It was best they got out of there before they ran into a fellow teacher who was actually available.

  “Oh hey, Jaimee. Your class is going to read The Count of Monte Cristo next quarter, aren’t they?

  “Yep. Planning on it.”

  “Good. I have a whole unit planned. We’ll take both classes to the library and work on it together.”

  This was the part of Janice’s personality Jaimee had so much trouble with. She had a tendency to be controlling to a fault.

  “Well, no. I’ve already made my own plans. But thank you for the offer.” Jaimee’s smile was forced.

  “This unit is better. I’ve already discussed it with Mr. Harmon, he’s all for it.”

  Jaimee blinked at her. “You discussed this with the principal before you even talked to me about it?”

  Janice grinned and waved her hand as though it were not a big deal. “Oh you’re so easy-going, Jaimee. I didn’t think you’d care one way or another.”

  Jaimee just shook her head. “I do care. I’ve already planned out that unit myself so you’ll have to do yours on your own.”

  The bright smile on Janice’s face fell a fraction and she shrugged. “Okay then. I was just trying to be helpful.”

  “I know. I appreciate it. Gotta run now, you have a good weekend.”

  “You too,” Janice called back to them as she walked away, wiggling her fingers in goodbye over her shoulder.

  Malaki walked a pace behind her as she made her way to the car. He held out his hand, waiting for the keys. Too tired to fight about it, she slapped them into his palm and scowled up at him. If there was one thing she’d learned long ago it was to pick your battles wisely and don’t sweat the small stuff.

  After setting her tote on the passenger seat, he held the car door open and motioned for her to get in. “Mrs. Turner. Are you awake enough to drive?”

  “Yes.” The word came out in a snotty tone, making her sound like a spoiled teenager. She wrinkled her nose. “And quit calling me Mrs. Turner. Jaimee is fine.”

  Malaki merely nodded, shut the door and headed to his own vehicle.

  All the way home his truck stayed in her rearview mirror. It was irritating but it would have been a waste of time to try and shake him. Besides, Malaki was a nice guy even if he did look like he could rip somebody apart with his bare hands. She shuddered and willed the scary pictures in her mind to dissipate. Blaming her wild imagination on fatigue, she turned the radio up and rolled the window down. Had she ever been this sleepy?

  Amazingly she managed to get herself home without an altercation. Her lame attempt to lose Malaki by speeding though the bottom of a yellow light was thwarted when Malaki ran the red light that followed. She sighed with relief as she turned onto her street. She spotted Lucas walking across the road toward her house as she pulled into her driveway. Jaimee didn’t even bother to stifle her appreciative moan. Her body heat rose a few degrees instantly at the sight of him, his arrogant swagger and intense expression. Damn, he looked so good. He wore a beige shirt and jeans that rode low on his hips, hugging his body in all the right places.

  Malaki barely slowed to wave back at Lucas before driving away. Lucas opened the car door and offered his hand. For a moment she just looked at it: wide, lightly calloused, capable. An unfamiliar need bloomed deep within her, making her feel empty. It just served to bring home that raw, aching loneliness she’d tried to ignore for so long as she laid her hand in his. “Why did you have The Incredible Hulk follow me home?”

  One brow lifted slightly as he helped her out of the car and took her tote bag from her. “The Pope?”

  “He doesn’t like that. It’s Malaki, why did you have Malaki escort me home?”

  Firmly pressing his hand to her lower back, Lucas walked close beside her as he led her into the house without answering her question. In spite of the irritation of being ignored or at the very least put off, the warmth radiating from his body made her feel cared for and protected. She was really getting used to that. Then she reminded herself that she really shouldn’t get used to that.

  She shivered involuntarily as he moved away from her to close the door and lock it. Jaimee crossed her arms over her chest, resisting the urge to cling to him, snuggle against him and give in to her need for oblivion. His dark eyes softened, warmed when he turned to face her.

  “I asked The Pope to make sure you got home all right because I couldn’t get away from work to do it myself.”

  Jaimee narrowed her eyes. “That’s a little over the top, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t. Not if what happened last night was personal. I’m not completely convinced the break-in was a random thing. Especially after that guy threatened you.”

  “What guy?” She frowned and tugged at the tote bag in his hand until he released it.

  “Ronald Marshall.”

  So Lucas suspected the same thing she did. For a moment she debated on telling him about the day planner she’d found.

  “It’s plain that the guy wants something from you, Jaimee, and whatever that something is, I mean to see that he doesn’t get it.” His expression darkened, his eyes glinted with malice, a promise of retribution. Jaimee didn’t even try to hide her shudder.

  Her frown had edged over into scowl. “Uh huh.” Why it irritated her, she didn’t know for sure. Maybe it was because he was treating her like a helpless female again. Or maybe it was the uncertainty of their relationship. Either way her head was beginning to ache with all the speculation. “Whatever you say, big guy.” Wanting to shut down, escape into a deep dreamless sleep and just forget it all for a while, she turned away from him and moved to the stairs, intent on taking herself to bed.

  Lucas took hold of her arm, delaying her retreat and turned her around to face him. “Don’t do that.”

  “What?” she snapped, jerking away. “Don’t do what, Lucas? Can your massive ego not handle my rejection of your arrogant, overbearing attitude or do you just have to believe I’m some helpless twit desperate for a man to love me and save me and protect me from the big ole mean world?”

  “I don’t think you’re helpless, I certainly don’t believe you’re a twit and, Jaimee, everyone wants to be loved.” With one finger he traced the lower curve of her bottom lip and she gritted her teeth against the rush of emotion, the surge of arousal.

  “Stop it.”

  Without a word he pulled her into his arms. She wanted to resist, really she did, but he smelled so good and his body was so steady and strong. He cradled her head in that perfect spot between his shoulder and his neck. Holding her like that had her resistance melting. The truth was she wanted to surrender, but she couldn’t, wouldn’t, stand there and be patronized. Not even for the moment of peaceful harbor his embrace offered her.

  “Ugh. You’re patronizing me.” She pushed away. Her voice was hoarse with frustration, anger and a tangle of complex emotions she didn’t feel up to analyzing. Not tonight anyway. Heat curled low in her belly causing her womb to tighten, her vagina to clench achingly. “Do you have problems comprehending me?”

  He didn’t move and his scowl deepened, the muscle in his jaw jumped. Was it her imagination or was that vein in his neck throbbing? If she weren’t so tired she’d probably be nervous, possibly a little bit afraid. Lack of sleep gave her courage it seemed, no matter how foolhardy.

  He took a step toward her and she retreated. “Now you look here, Maxine has a very busy day scheduled tomorrow th
at she wouldn’t let me out of if both my legs were broken. On top of that she’ll be here way too damn early in the morning and if I’m going to endure all she’s planned in that devious mind of hers I’m going to need rest. So you need to get over yourself and run along.” She poked him in the chest, not for a minute missing the hard, tense muscles beneath his soft shirt. “You need to get it through that thick, testosterone-laden skull of yours what I’ve told you too many times already: I can take care of myself. Always have. Always will. Now, go away, go on.” She dismissed him with a flick of her hand.

  He moved so fast she didn’t have time to register what he intended. Her strangled yelp was cut short as her breath left her lungs in a whoosh and her world tipped, turning upside down as Lucas tossed her over his shoulder and mounted the steps.

  His strong arms held her legs tightly against him so she couldn’t give him a good swift kick. All she got for her thrashing about was a hard, sharp swat to her backside.

  “Ow! That hurt!” she yelled breathlessly.

  In retaliation she dug her fingernails into his back and sunk her teeth into the taut muscled flesh. The satisfaction she got from his grunt of pain was short lived when he delivered yet another blow to her posterior, this time harder. It really stung!

  “Damn you, Lucas!”

  When finally he dumped her on the bed she lost her breath for a moment. As he slid up her body, synapses fired, logic clouded with a sudden flash fire of desire. She panted, torn between fury and lust. His eyes, so dilated they were nearly black, glittered ominously. A hot shiver wracked her body beneath him as he rotated his hips, firmly seated at the apex of her shaky thighs. His significant erection pressed urgently against her mound.