TEN
The Femme Fatale Handbook
Introduction
The difference between lust and love.
This part is simple. Love beats lust. Period. End of story. The return on getting someone to fall in love with you will always trump that of making someone want to sleep with you. Why? Because lust is too simple. Men want to have sex with women. Well, heterosexual men, anyway. A man who is simply in lust is less capable of being manipulated, and once the lust wears off after two, four, seven or whatever the number of sessions in bed with you, he could easily leave you. Love, on the other hand, is power.
We’re talking about the game of seduction here, girls.
Yes, I call it a game because that’s exactly what it is—just like a round of battleship. You make a move, he makes a move, you make a move, and back and forth until one of you sinks the other’s ship.
Seduction is a game and the rules are based on psychology, not beauty, wealth, fame or anything else.
***
NIKKI
Yes, I was reading The Femme Fatale Handbook again. My Women in Literature, A Study of the Female Character book continued to sit on top of my desk, unopened. But I just couldn’t seem to convince myself to focus on my term paper. Instead, Jane Doe’s instruction manual was as difficult to ignore as the song of the harpy was to whatever Greek dude happened to be sailing by.
I wasn’t sure what it was about the notebook, but this was the first time in a long time that I felt a tingle of excitement, and furthermore, it was the first time in months that I wasn’t thinking about Brandon, Beau or man-hating in general. When I was reading Jane’s words, I was completely sucked into her world, even though I hadn’t completely convinced myself that I believed everything she was saying. Actually, it was probably more fitting to say I didn’t believe much of it. But, even so, it was still exhilarating to read. And the very thought that I could transform myself into a bad-ass seductress sent rivulets of excitement through me that I had a hard time suppressing.
Over the next few days, Women in Literature, A Study of the Female Character; Third Edition, from Harper & Row was forgotten completely, as was my research project, which I knew I should have been working on. As it was, I only had two weeks left before I had to turn the paper in, but I couldn’t say I really cared. Instead, I consumed the words written in the notebook; gulping them down as though they were glasses of water being offered to a thirsty woman who just stumbled out of the desert. The Femme Fatale Handbook not only provided a respite from the depressing memories that had dominated my thoughts in recent months, but also became a measure by which I could feel my strength and my interest in life returning.
So, there I was, in the library late at night, yet again. The only difference now was that I was no longer worried about my study table in the corner. Instead, I sat rooted to the same chair I’d been occupying for the last four hours. I’d escaped to the library as soon as Dani had come home from school because I’d wanted privacy.
Now I continued to pore over the words on each page of the manual, giving them life and breath as they took up residence inside me. The only interruption was the announcement that the library would be closing in thirty minutes, an announcement I ignored at first. After the second announcement fifteen minutes later, I had visions of being locked inside the library overnight which frightened me enough that I started packing up my things.
“I know you want to get a good grade on your term paper, Nikki, but don’t forget to sleep!”
I heard the deep voice and turned around, looking up into Derek Anderson’s smiling face. I wasn’t sure why, but I was suddenly struck by how handsome he was. But that thought was shoved to the side when he glanced down at the notebook which was still open on the desk in front of me. I immediately slammed it shut, then shoved it into my backpack as quickly as I could, not wanting him to know the real reason I was sitting here at this hour of the night.
“What time is it anyway?” I asked, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I couldn’t even stomach the thought if he’d found out what I was really reading …
“Um, nearly eleven,” he answered with another boyish smirk. Then he just stared at me in that way of his—it almost seemed like he was imagining what I looked like without any clothes on. Yes, the guy was a cad and then some.
“Well, I could ask you the same question,” I remarked snidely, wanting and needing to get the magnifying glass away from myself. “Why are you here so late?”
He shrugged. “Trying to find a book,” he started. Then he took a step closer to me as I felt my heart speed up. I hadn’t really noticed it before, but he was incredibly tall. He towered over me and his shoulders were so broad, I could only wonder what he looked like … naked.
I shook the ridiculous thoughts out of my head as I lambasted myself inwardly for even considering it. Derek Anderson was my professor and, as such, he was completely off-limits. Not only that, he was a jerk on top of it, and I was done with jerks.
“Derek, I found it!” the woman’s high-pitched voice interrupted my inner monologue. I turned to watch a leggy brunette approach us. She was holding a book in her hand and waving it at Derek as eagerly as if she’d just located the Holy Grail. As soon as she realized I was standing there, she dropped her arm and her smile.
“Well done,” Derek said to her as she approached him. Once she was close enough, he reached over and took the book from her, rotating it around so he could read the cover. “Yep, you found it,” he added with a quick nod, before tucking the book underneath his elbow and returning his wolfish grin in my direction.
“Told you I would,” she cooed up at him. I couldn’t help but notice that she was standing very close to him as they both faced me.
“I was just reprimanding Nikki, here, for working too hard on the paper I tasked her with,” he explained as he continued to stare at me, and I found myself gulping down the sudden case of nerves I’d just developed.
“Oh,” the pretty brunette responded, giving me a faux smile.
“Yeah, and it wasn’t lost on me that I was the only one whose freedom of choice you took away,” I grumbled with a frown as I slung my backpack over my shoulder and suddenly felt very tired. “So thanks for that.”
“Aren’t you going to introduce us, Derek?” the brunette asked, and I definitely got the feeling she was jealous over the fact that Derek was even standing here, talking to me. Although why she was jealous, I had no clue. Anyone with eyes would have found her much more attractive than me with her skin-tight jeans that covered ridiculously long legs, and her just as tight sweater which outlined her very large breasts. With her long, dark hair and big eyes, she was definitely pretty. And then there was no makeup, oversized sweatshirt and yoga pants, hair pulled into a ponytail me who probably looked like something the cat not only dragged, in but then threw up.
“Forgive my manners, or lack thereof,” Derek answered. “This is Nikki Sloan, from the class I had to take over for Sonama,” he said to the brunette. “And this is Rebecca Glasner, English Literature graduate student.”
And your own personal librarian, I added to myself and couldn’t help my smile which I aimed at Rebecca. Of course, I had to wonder if they were sleeping together, owing to the gossip I’d heard about Derek and his affairs with graduate students. Based on the way Rebecca was doting on him, I figured they were, or at least she was hoping they would. Not that it was any of my business because it wasn’t. And what was more, I didn’t really care who Derek slept with because it wasn’t any concern of mine. Although I couldn’t quite put my finger on why I was suddenly irritated at the thought that maybe he was boffing this chick.
“Nice to meet you,” I said hurriedly as I started toward the front of the library, turning on my toes and leaving them both in my dust. But Derek immediately caught up with me, and the stork was only moments behind.
“Likewise,” Rebecca said with another faux smile that looked more like a sneer.
“Where are you headed?” Derek asked me.
“Back to the sorority house,” I answered as they fell in line next to me and I race-walked for the double doors. All I wanted to do was get back to my room so I could pick up where I’d left off in the notebook. To hell with Derek and his ostrich.
“We’ll give you a ride,” Derek offered.
“No, that’s okay,” I answered, catching Rebecca’s less than thrilled expression from the corner of my eye. “It’s not that far.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Derek insisted as he shook his head. “It’s late, and sorority row is clear across campus.”
Even though he had a point, I really didn’t want to spend another second more with Rebecca, mainly because I could tell she felt the same way about me.
“Tell her we won’t bend, Rebecca,” Derek continued.
“We won’t bend,” she answered, sounding like an automaton.
Figuring there was no way out, I sighed and waved my white flag of surrender. “Okay, thanks,” I grumbled as Derek took the lead and opened the doors for Rebecca and me as the library attendant frowned at us, clearly perturbed that we hadn’t vacated earlier.
Once we were outside, I wrapped my arms more tightly around myself to try to ward off the cold. Then I followed Derek and Rebecca as they wound their way through the sculpture garden and into Parking Lot C. There were only a few cars still parked in the lot that would be overflowing come eight a.m. tomorrow morning.
Derek started toward an older model black Ford Bronco that was parked directly in front of us. I wasn’t sure why, but I was surprised by his choice of car. It just seemed kind of … juvenile for a professor. Of course, Derek Anderson wouldn’t have struck anyone as the professor type considering how young he was (I still wasn’t sure of his exact age) and how decidedly unprofessorlike.
He immediately started for the passenger side and unlocked the door the old-fashioned way, by sticking the key in the lock. I noticed with interest that Rebecca sidestepped me to make sure she reached the passenger side first. Then she reached inside and pulled the seat forward, turning to face me as she did so.
“There you go,” she said as she motioned to the backseat.
“Thanks,” I answered as I tossed my backpack inside and couldn’t help my surprise when I felt a strong hand wrap around my upper arm.
“It’s a big step,” Derek offered as he smiled down at me and held on to my arm while I lifted myself into the SUV. I could only hope it was brought on by the cold, but my arm erupted into a fit of goose bumps as soon as he touched me. And when I realized I was holding my breath, I forcefully released it. I pulled away from him as soon as I was in the Bronco as he gave me a quick smile, his eyes dropping quickly to my bust.
Of course they did, I grumbled to myself. Men were all the same. And Derek Anderson was probably about as bad as they came.
I noticed Rebecca’s arched eyebrow which seemed to echo disapproval, but I couldn’t say I cared. All I could think about was my warm bed as I hoped that Dani was sleeping over at Craig’s so I could have our room to myself.
When I was not-so-comfortably seated on the rigid backseat, Derek closed Rebecca’s door and reappeared at the driver’s side as he unlocked the door and seated himself. He started the engine which sputtered a few times before it kicked over, and then we just sat there.
“Gotta warm ’er up,” he announced as we sat in silence, just the loud purring of the engine and the smell of exhaust interrupting the still air.
“How’s your report coming along?” Derek asked as he eyed me in the rearview mirror.
“It’s coming,” I said with a sigh as a wave of guilt rushed over me at the thought that I hadn’t done much for my report at all. Ah well, I figured I’d just have to work overtime. And then some.
Derek nodded and then put the Bronco into reverse, and we were off. It was a bumpy ride and the seats in front seemed to whine every time he drove over a pothole or a speed bump. Even though it was only five minutes to the sorority house, it felt like twenty because no one said a word and the silence stretched uncomfortably between us.
“Which one?” Derek finally asked as we reached sorority row.
“Second from the last on the right,” I answered. “Big white one.”
He nodded and seconds later pulled in front of the house. I noticed a few of the girls were standing outside, and I could just imagine their reactions when they saw me get out of Derek Anderson’s car. The more I considered it, the more I realized I was now heading for the Spanish Inquisition.
Derek put the Bronco into park and then undid his seatbelt as he opened his door and jumped down to the ground. Then he pulled the seat forward and grabbed my backpack, slugging it over his shoulder. He reached back inside and took my arm as he helped me onto the ground.
“Good luck studying,” he said as that up-to-no-good smile pasted itself across his mouth again. Rather than handing me my backpack, he started for the steps of the house as I felt my stomach drop. He was going to walk me to the door?!
“Thanks,” I answered as I reached for my backpack where it was slung over his shoulder. “I’m good from here,” I offered, not wanting any of my sorority sisters to get the wrong idea. The last thing I wanted going around was that I was sleeping with my professor.
“See ya,” he finished as he started for the Bronco again. I took the ten or so brick steps quickly, my eyes riveted on the ground. Once I could hear the sound of the Bronco’s engine, I glanced back and found Derek waving at me. I quickly waved back and then hightailed it into the house, as the Bronco disappeared down the street. Finally, I could breathe a sigh of relief.
“Um, Nikki,” Jessica Crow started as she eyed me narrowly from the living room which overlooked the street. “Was that Derek Anderson who just dropped you off? Professor Derek Anderson?”
“’Cause it really looked like him,” Bridget Hanson, who was standing next to Jessica, added.
“No, it wasn’t,” I said with little interest as I continued across the entryway, not even bothering to stop for a “friendly” discussion.
“Um,” one of them responded as I reached the bottom of the stairs.
“It looked just like him.”
“Doppelganger,” I answered with a shrug. “Haven’t you heard that everyone has one?”
“Oh,” Jessica answered as Bridget continued to study me suspiciously.
“Night,” I said with a quick wave as I took the stairs two at a time.