Kathleen woke up with a shiver before she realized she had even been asleep.
“Rise and shine.” Russell’s voice rumbled through her back where it rested against his chest.
“Oh my God.” Kathleen pressed her palms against the heat rising in her cheeks, chilly water running down her arms. “How did I fall asleep? How long have I been asleep?”
“Not that long.”
“Long enough for the water to get cool,” she said, repressing another shiver.
“It’s refreshing.”
“It’s freezing. I feel like an ass.”
“Don’t. I took it as a compliment that I was able to get you that relaxed.” He moved her hair aside, the ends streaming with water, and kissed the side of her neck, giving her an entirely different kind of shiver. “Besides, it gave me some time to think.”
“Think about what?” Second thoughts about this extra time together? Letting her down easy and hightailing it back to D.C. before things went any further?
“What we had talked about. Play. Role-playing. I’d never really thought about sex as anything other than straightforward.”
“What do you mean? We didn’t do anything…crooked.” She wanted to turn and confront him but wasn’t brave enough.
“That’s not what I mean. Here, get out of this tub before you turn into a popsicle. We both know I’m the one who generates all the heat.” He held her hand as she got to her feet, rising with her and supporting her as she stepped out of the big tub. She grabbed a towel off the rack and wrapped it around her, handing him another one as he got out and pulled the plug. Instead of drying himself, he merely wrapped the terrycloth around his hips and drew her towel around her shoulders, rubbing gently, bringing warmth back into her arms.
“You’re too sweet to me,” she said, luxuriating in the attention and heat.
“I’m enjoying myself.” Crouching down, he ran the towel across her belly, then down each leg. Finally, he wrapped it around her and massaged her butt. “Dry now?”
No longer chilly, her body had already started responding to his caresses. “In a manner of speaking.” She suppressed a laugh when she saw understanding flare in his eyes.
“Minx. You have confused, excited, confounded, and intellectually stimulated me all in a single afternoon. You’re going to have to save any more for now, because I am starving.”
Until he said it, Kathleen hadn’t realized her belly was hollow and aching. “I guess we ate a late breakfast and that was it.”
“Therefore, an early dinner and…early to bed.”
“That sounds like an excellent plan.”
“Glad you like it.”
“Are we eating here?”
“Unless you want to go somewhere else. The woman at the desk told me that the dining room isn’t usually as formal as it was for the wedding, so feel free to get comfortable.”
Kathleen wrapped the towel under her armpits, tucked the end in, and padded into the bedroom. After a quick rummage in her suitcase, she pulled out a silky pair of pants and a loose top, tossing them on the bed, together with a bra and a pair of underpants. Unwinding the towel, she blotted the damp ends of her hair and pulled on her clothes. A quick look in the mirror as she slid her feet into ballet flats showed her outfit to be nothing special. Nonetheless, her lips curved as Russell, dressed in an open collared shirt and fine wool trousers, fitted himself behind her, sliding his hands across her belly.
“Beautiful,” he said. “Let’s go eat.”
Russell interlaced his fingers into Kathleen’s as they reached the staircase, satisfaction welling up in him as they sauntered down together. Kathleen gave him a cheeky glance as if she could read his thoughts.
He wasn’t sure he could read his own thoughts. He was almost afraid to consciously travel the road his subconscious was paving. He didn’t just like Kathleen. Didn’t just appreciate her intelligence, her humor, and her beauty.
He was comfortable with her.
Russell could be comfortable with women—his sisters, his friends’ wives and girlfriends, his colleagues. But it tended to take him so long to get comfortable with the women he dated that they left before that ever happened.
Hell, he had married and divorced Therese without ever really feeling comfortable with her. There was always a sort of chilly formality that had underlaid everything they did. He suspected that she thought his being a professor held greater status than it did and was disappointed to find it hadn’t enhanced her in the eyes of her colleagues at her law firm.
“Where’d your brain go?” she asked as they entered the dining room.
“What do you mean?”
“Your face went all…” The fingers of her free hand fluttered toward her face and then upward. “Away.”
“No,” he said, tracing her cheek with a finger. “I’m here.”
“Kathleen?” A voice called from the other end of the dining room. Kathleen stiffened, her eyes going wide an instant before her face froze into a mask of cheery goodwill and she turned, searching for the source.
“Professor Lafferty?” Her voice rose to a squeak.
A silver-haired white man and woman were sitting at a table at the far end of the dining room. Kathleen’s fingers slipped out of Russell’s and she glanced back at him, her smile stiff and her eyes panicky. Russell followed as she moved across the room, his pulse speeding, unsure of what was pushing her off kilter.
Reaching the table, Kathleen extended a hand to the man. He had risen to his feet, helping his petite and equally elderly companion—wife, Russell assumed—to rise as well. “Kathleen, my dear. I thought it was you. How lovely to see you.” The older man’s eyes twinkled as he took her hand and, instead of shaking it, pulled her into an embrace. Kathleen blushed as he released her and she bent and kissed the older woman’s cheek.
“Mrs. Lafferty,” she murmured, straightening. “How are you?”
“We’re lovely, dear.” Mrs. Lafferty’s eyes flicked to Russell. He stiffened, any lingering remnants of comfort and ease flooding out of his body.
“Oh!” Kathleen’s hand whipped against her mouth, then extended to him. “Professor, Mrs. Lafferty—this is Russell King.”
Russell smiled and murmured greetings to the couple, shaking hands and smiling through his uncertainty.
Kathleen smiled at Mrs. Lafferty, hoping her frazzled nerves didn’t show. “What brings you to the Eastern Inn?”
“Our anniversary, dear. Fifty years. What about you?” Mrs. Lafferty’s faded blue eyes crinkled as she patted her husband’s hand.
“Our friends just got married here,” Kathleen said, hoping they didn’t ask where the rest of the wedding party had gone or why she and Russell were still here. Together.
“Congratulations.” Russell’s expression was sincere as he looked from Mrs. Lafferty to her husband, but the slightest flicker of uncertainty showed in his eyes when he looked at Kathleen.
“Professor Lafferty was the head of my father’s department at St. John’s,” Kathleen explained, her mind whirling.
“And your father has done very well as the chair since I retired,” the older man said, settling himself carefully back into his chair. “I always knew he would be the right man to succeed me.”
“I’m sure that means the world to Dad.” She felt like her own words were coming from a long distance away—some island where people knew what to say, even though they didn’t understand a word that came out of their mouths.
“What department is that?” Russell asked.
Kathleen looked at the Laffertys with mounting horror. That seemingly inconsequential question just gave the whole show away. They now had at least an inkling of how little time Russell and Kathleen had known each other. And if Kathleen knew anything, she knew it would get back to her father before next weekend.
“Mathematics,” Professor Lafferty said, his voice genial.
“Ah. The bane of my students.” Russell chuckled.
Professor Lafferty leaned forward, his bony knuckles rapping on the table, a sharp gesture Kathleen remembered all too well from being in his classroom. “You’re a teacher?”
Air flooded Kathleen’s lungs. Salvation. At least a little. “Russell’s a tax law professor at Georgetown.”
“Ah!” The older man leaned back, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “That is excellent. And how do you find your students? Keen?”
Russell laughed briefly. “Keen for jobs. Not always keen to do the work that’s required to prepare for them.”
“And their math skills?” Professor Lafferty’s expression was sharp.
“I have it on the best authority that what Russell teaches is about legal theory, not math.” Kathleen nearly slapped her hand over her mouth. There was nothing to be gained from calling attention to herself in this situation. Gritting her teeth together, she tried to smile at Russell. She was afraid her expression was closer to a grimace.
“That’s true,” Russell said, his bland expression taking in Kathleen and both the Laffertys. “Lawyers are notoriously bad at math, I’m afraid.”
“Ah.” Professor Lafferty waved his hand as if to dismiss the conversation. “The beauty of mathematics is only dulled by such a bureaucratic application anyway.”
“Dear.” Mrs. Lafferty’s hand closed over her husband’s and she gave him a stern look shot through with amusement. “I’m sure the young people want their dinner without a side dish of equations.” Her gaze slid to Kathleen and her eyelid dipped in the barest wink. “Enjoy your meal, Kathleen. It was very nice to meet you, Professor King.”
Russell nodded to the Laffertys and tucked Kathleen’s hand into the crook of his arm. She squeezed his bicep as they walked back to the hostess. “Thank you.”
“For what?” His expression was cool, reserved, and Kathleen’s throat closed. Something else had gone wrong just now. Something more than meeting elderly people she had known since she was a small child, who would be sure to tell her father…
“Um. For being nice?” She nearly cringed at the way her voice wavered up. The hostess directed them to a table and Kathleen willed her organs to resume their normal positions in her body. Her heart was in her throat, her stomach was trying to take up residence outside her abdomen, and her brain was…absolutely AWOL.
Russell’s voice sliced through them all. “You don’t expect me to be nice?”
“Of course I do. You’ve been nothing but nice since I met you.” Kathleen’s gaze slid sideways as he pulled out her chair. She sank into the seat, scooting forward as Russell pushed the chair in.
Settling himself across from her, Russell examined Kathleen’s face. For once, she wasn’t flushed. In fact, her face was so pale, the faint smattering of freckles over her nose stood out. Fighting the urge to turn around and look over at the Lafferty’s table, Russell had a sinking feeling about her strange reaction to seeing them.
“So…” he said, striving for a neutral tone, though his suspicions about her behavior were making his stomach churn. “You seem…upset.”
“I do?” Kathleen unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap, seeming to be careful not to look at him.
“Yeah. Why is that?”
“Why do I seem upset? I don’t know. It’s your observation. You tell me.” Her chin lifted and she looked him in the eye, her expression defiant.
“Well, you were very flustered with the Laffertys just now. And now you’re pale and wan and not acting like yourself. Not that I know you all that well after just a couple of days.”
Maybe he didn’t know her at all.
Kathleen’s spine straightened a little and she moved her knife a half inch to the right. “I just…let’s put it this way: Annapolis is a small town and the college community is even smaller.”
“And?”
Kathleen closed her eyes. “This is so embarrassing. I’m a grown woman, but my family’s Catholic. Like, super Catholic. Especially my parents.” The hand that had been preoccupied with silverware drifted down to her lap and the blush he had gotten so used to seeing flooded her cheeks again. Her eyes darted to the side, over his shoulder, presumably looking at the Laffertys. “And as you’ve probably noticed, Professor Lafferty isn’t exactly shy. He’s bound to tell my father that he saw me at a hotel. A few hours distance from my home. With a man. A man my family has never met.”
“Are you saying you wouldn’t want me to meet your family?” He wished the words didn’t sound so bitter.
Kathleen huffed an exasperated sigh. “No, that’s not at all what I’m saying. What I’m saying is that my very Catholic father is going to be more than a little upset when he is presented with the implication that his youngest daughter is…doing whatever…with a man he hasn’t even met. Let alone a man that his daughter isn’t married to.”
Russell started to laugh. He couldn’t help it. “‘Doing whatever?’ That’s what you’re worried about?”
“Yes. It’s not funny.” Kathleen’s glare could strip paint off the walls, but Russell’s fit of laughter was uncontrollable.
“Your father has five children over thirty and he expects them all to be virginal?” He couldn’t square the clever, confident, sexually assertive woman he had come to know with the image of a dutiful daughter she apparently presented to her family.
Her mouth twisted as if she was suppressing a smile. “Well, the baby and the only unmarried one, at least.”
“Seems like either your dad has some pretty unrealistic expectations or you do.”
“Yes, well.” She smiled at the waitress who handed her a menu and waited until the woman had told them the specials and moved away before continuing. “I did tell you I had lots of therapy. Maybe I need more.”
“I don’t know your dad, but I think it will be okay, regardless.”
“I hope so.” She sighed, shrugging her shoulders up, letting them fall and twisting her head from side to side as if to release tension. “Nothing much I can do about it now.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, my family would love you.”
“Really?” She looked at him over the menu, her eyes shy.
“My sisters especially. They would hail you as one of their own.”
She laughed at this and a tightness Russell hadn’t been aware of in his shoulders eased.
“Really? How so?” Her eyes sparkled with a hint of the mischief he had grown used to and Russell could have pumped his fist with relief.
“You’re feisty like them. Smart. Fun. Easy to talk to. You all like dresses with pockets.”
“Who doesn’t like dresses with pockets?”
He winked at her. “Monsters, obviously.”