CHAPTER EIGHT
KELSEY
I COULDN’T STOP LOOKING AT HIM. Archer West, all dressed up in his brother’s suit.
He looked incredible with his dark hair shining under the lights, and the collar of the white shirt emphasizing the masculine planes of his face. The suit sheathed his muscular body, just a little too tight around his chest.
Even in a suit and tie that he clearly didn’t want to wear, he didn’t appear subdued or even softened one bit. If anything, the suit underscored his hard edges, the sense of unpredictability and danger that was as much a part of him as his physical appeal. Like a beautiful, crouched tiger about to lunge for its prey.
He pressed a glass of wine into my hand. He dipped his head a little closer to the side of my neck and inhaled. My heart pounded.
“What is it?” His voice was a low, sexy rumble. I almost felt its vibrations against my skin.
“Um… what?”
“Not perfume. What kind of soap?”
“Almond milk and… and honey.”
Heat radiated from his body, the leashed energy of his muscles. Even though the air in the hall was artificially cold, I was getting hot from the inside out.
“Hmm.” Again that throaty growl that echoed in my blood. “No wonder I’m hungry.”
I wanted to give him some smart-aleck retort, but couldn’t think of anything. I wanted to move away, but couldn’t. I wanted to give him a patented Kelsey March glare and push him away, but…
I moved closer to him. Inhaled. No scent of aftershave on him, just a purely clean, male smell of wind and leaves. A long-suppressed urge sparked to life inside me, the ache of longing for lightning bolts and black storm clouds, heavy rain, and thunderclouds.
Desire for everything that was Archer West.
Alarm bells went off in my head, faint but definitely there, everything Dean had ever told me about his brother combined with my own certain knowledge that Archer West was dangerous. I knew where men like him could take me, and exhilarating as the ride would be, the end was nowhere good.
I stepped away from him. Cold air filled the space between us. I shivered, tightening my fingers on the wineglass.
“So, you’d better come and meet my colleagues.” I injected a cool note into my voice and turned to where a group of meteorology professors stood. “They’re reviewing me for tenure in a few weeks, which will decide my professional fate. That means I have to be good.”
“Pity.” His murmur slid over my skin like a kiss.
Holy hell. I knew I was giving him openings, wanting to see where he’d go with them and liking wherever that might be. There was nothing safe about Archer West, and I had always been powerfully and instinctively drawn to the unsafe… until I discovered that it went hand in hand with a pain I didn’t want to bear.
I started walking toward the professors, sharply aware of the pulsing between my legs, fighting images of myself tangled in rumpled sheets with Archer on top of me, his deep voice whispering all sorts of dirty things in my ear.
Oh, no. No.
I stopped and forced myself to smile at the professors, the sight of them effectively killing any hot fantasies still lingering in my mind.
“Archer.” I grabbed Archer’s sleeve and pulled him forward, feeling like I was bringing the sexiest bad boy in school to a math club meeting. “I’d like you to meet the other professors in the Meteorology department. Gentlemen, this is Archer West, Dean West’s brother.”
I made the introductions. Archer was polite, though I sensed his edginess, his feeling of being in the wrong place, a fish out of water. So different from Dean, who always navigated these events with easy self-assurance, making everyone feel like the center of his attention. That was why I usually brought him—he did the work so I didn’t have to.
But Dean wasn’t as captivating a date as Archer West. Not even close.
“What do you do?” James Margate asked Archer.
He hesitated for half a second, so brief I wondered if I was the only one who noticed.
“I repair bikes,” he said.
“Where?” James asked. “My son just learned how to ride without training wheels.”
“No, I mean motorcycles. I repair motorcycles.”
“Oh.” James looked a little embarrassed. “That’s… uh, that’s cool.”
“Archer is visiting from Nevada,” I interjected. “Weren’t you in Vegas recently, James?”
“Yes, for the climate change conference.” James launched into a recap of the conference.
A few minutes later, the dinner announcement saved us all from further conversation. Archer and I were seated at a table with Chancellor Radcliffe and his wife, plus most of the other meteorology professors.
Archer held my chair out for me before taking his own seat, which I found vaguely irritating. On top of being so sexy he had me wanting to rip off my panties right then and there, he also apparently had some gentlemanly instincts. That was a deadly combination. I’d need every defense in my arsenal to withstand it.
“Professor March, I understand the university board is reviewing your tenure application and file,” Chancellor Radcliffe said, looking at me from across the table. A broad-shouldered, bearded man, he possessed a natural air of authority. “I hope to receive their recommendation soon.”
I hoped he did, too. When he made the final decision, I would finally learn my fate at King’s.
“I understand there was some concern about your teaching commitments,” Radcliffe remarked, “and the fulfillment of your contract at King’s, due to your preoccupation with a research project.”
My stomach knotted. “I’m very committed to King’s, sir. You’ll find a statement to that effect in my file.”
I straightened in preparation for more self-defense, but Radcliffe was distracted by the serving of the salad course. I turned to the woman beside me, Stan’s wife, and asked about her nursing job so I wouldn’t have to speak to the chancellor again.
I became acutely conscious of Archer’s presence on my other side, his voice both deep and cordial as he talked to whoever was sitting beside him.
When the main course was served, I turned to the food. Archer picked up his fork and poked at the fish wrapped in parchment.
“Fish en papillote,” I said.
“What?”
“That’s what it’s called. It’s a cooking technique of wrapping the fish in parchment. It seals in the moisture.”
His mouth tightened a little. “I knew that.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“You thought I didn’t.” It wasn’t a question.
“No, I just…” I flushed when I realized that was exactly what I’d thought, and I didn’t like that he’d called me out. “You were looking at it like… well, never mind.”
“Like I didn’t know what it was or how to eat it.”
His irritation fueled my own. My skin got hot.
“Well, it’s not like you can get it at McDonald’s,” I replied tartly.
He laughed. His amusement didn’t make me any less on edge. I felt him looking at me before he leaned closer, lowering his voice, his shoulder pressing against mine.
A wave of heat poured over me as I turned to look directly into his eyes. Thunderclouds. Lightning bolts.
“Do you ever let go, storm girl?” he murmured in a voice so low I had to ease even closer, determined not to be afraid of whatever he was going to say.
“Ever lose control?” he asked, his gaze tracking over my face. “Ever surrender?”
A thousand shivers fell through me even as I steeled my spine. I didn’t take my eyes from his. I saw myself reflected in his dark pupils. I shook my head.
“Never,” I whispered. “I never surrender.”
A smile curved his beautiful mouth, a smile of both promise and warning. “You will.”
I stared at him, shaken by the sense that he spoke the truth.
Muttering an excuse, I pushed my chair back and hurried to the ladies’ room. After pressing a damp paper towel on my neck to cool my overheated skin, I gave myself a firm glare in the mirror.
“Get it together, Kelsey,” I muttered. “He’ll be gone soon. You don’t have time for him. Even if you did, you know it would end badly.”
Still, as I walked back to the main hall, a little devil inside me prodded hard, again pushing me for reasons to deny what I so obviously wanted.
Why not have fun with him while he’s here?
Because I’m a professor up for tenure who doesn’t have time to mess around.
He’s only here for a couple of weeks. He admitted that he’s staying for you. It’s not like either of you would ever expect anything more.
I still don’t have time. Or the inclination.
Not even if he makes you hotter than any man ever has?
Not even then.
Not even if you haven’t had sex in so long you’re about to explode with sheer frustration?
Not even then.
Not even if there are no strings attached, no holds barred, no stone left unturned?
Not even then.
Not even if you know it would be hot, sweaty, dirty, and sexy as all hell?
Oh, god. Not even then.
Not even if you’re aching to touch him, to feel his hands on you, to spread your legs so he can—
No! Not even then!
You’re a fucking idiot, Kelsey March.
After I regained my composure, I returned to the dinner and took my seat. I was grateful to discover that the conversation at the table had again turned to the Vegas climate change conference.
“The conference was sponsored by SciTech.” Philip Harris glanced at me. “You didn’t go, Kelsey?”
Irritation crawled up my neck. “You know I didn’t.”
“You should go to the next one,” James advised. “Get yourself back into SciTech’s good graces.”
“I don’t need SciTech.”
Philip lifted an eyebrow. “You have other funding options for the Spiral Project?”
An unpleasant strain threaded the air. I felt Archer tense beside me. Though the condescending attitude from male scientists still rankled me, I’d become accustomed to it. Of course, not all of them were like that, but my colleagues had been competing with me for seven years, and they knew that most of the time, I got what I wanted.
Which was the reason they were enjoying my failure with the Spiral Project.
“I’ve sent out my proposal to several other agencies,” I told Philip. “When the project is funded again, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“What is the project?” Archer asked.
“It’s a proposal to fund a fully mobile unit to track and study tornados,” I explained. “I want to learn how tornados actually form so we can better predict them. That would have a huge impact on response times and potentially save lives and property.”
“Ambitious,” Archer remarked.
I almost smiled. “Yes.”
“How many investigators have you included in the proposal?” James asked.
“At least fifty, including grad students.”
“And you would all go on the road with the unit?” Archer asked.
“The others would do the fieldwork,” I said. “I’d stay at King’s to assimilate the data from a home base.”
“The problem is she hasn’t gotten anyone else on board yet, except for her students,” Philip told Archer. “If she had some evidence that it could work, people would be interested, but so far it’s a failure.”
“Like the light bulb,” Archer said.
Everyone looked at him with faint confusion.
“The light bulb?” Philip repeated.
“Yeah. Thomas Edison failed a thousand times before he invented the light bulb. He actually said he hadn’t failed. He’d just found a thousand ways that didn’t work before he found one that did. So if this is Professor March’s first failure with the Spiral Project, it’s only a matter of time before she succeeds.”
A glow of appreciation sparked beneath my heart.
“I guarantee you, Mr. West, that no scientific funding agency will support her through a thousand failures,” Philip said.
“I guarantee you, Dr. Harris, that Professor March won’t fail a thousand times,” Archer replied. “And if the agencies won’t fund her project, she’ll find another way.”
The men all looked at him. No one else spoke. The glow intensified, surrounding my heart with a nimbus of light.
Another way.
“Professor March isn’t afraid to fail,” Archer continued. “That’s an admirable quality in a scientist. In anyone. You could all learn a lesson from her.” He pushed his chair back. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have another commitment.”
We did?
I was so caught off guard that I didn’t think to protest as Archer went to retrieve our jackets. I managed to say a few quick goodbyes before we left.
I breathed in the evening air, grateful to be away from the noise of the gathering and the company of my colleagues. Archer and I walked toward the parking lot.
I wondered if he sensed that I’d always been on my own when it came to defending myself and my research. In fact, this was the first time I hadn’t felt alone.
“Thank you,” I said. “For what you did in there.”
Archer shrugged. “I just told them the truth.”
He wouldn’t give anyone anything but the truth. I knew that with an instinct as old as time. It was only one of the reasons I was so attracted to him.
“She’ll find another way,” he’d said.
What if that was also the truth? What if there was another way to fund the Spiral Project? What if I did find it?
I brushed my hand against Archer’s sleeve, right where the cuff exposed the skin of his wrist.
“I appreciate what you did,” I said. “More than I can say.”
There were a lot of things I felt around him that couldn’t be expressed with words.
We crossed a patch of grass toward my car.
“So, I’ll drop you off wherever you’re staying.” I dug into my purse for the keys. “Or you can drop yourself off, since you’ll probably insist on driving again.”
Archer extended his hand. I put the keys in his palm. I wondered why I wasn’t fighting his overbearing attitude more strongly. Why it felt almost good to have him insist on taking the reins. I went around to the passenger side and waited for him to unlock the doors.
Stopping on the driver’s side, he leaned his arms on the roof.
“You know of any clubs around here?” he asked.
“Clubs?”
“Someplace we could listen to some good music. Get a drink. Shake off the professors and small talk and whatever the fuck that fish was.”
I smiled. The long-suppressed pleasure of spontaneity rose in me at the thought of heading out for a night on the town.
I tried to think. There were a bunch of clubs on the outskirts of downtown that students frequented, but I didn’t want to go somewhere I might see one of them. Professor March didn’t hang out at noisy clubs, drinking and dancing with hot, sexy biker guys.
She didn’t frequent bars where she stripped such men with her eyes before blatantly stroking their tattoos and sinking into a kiss that—
Professor March didn’t do that.
I took a breath. My heartbeat ratcheted up a notch.
“I should…” I should go home. That was what I meant to say. Instead, I said, “I should be able to find somewhere we can go.”
“Good.” He shot me a smile, so warm and striking that I could almost feel my defenses falling away. He’d shed his jacket and tie, and now wore just the trousers and white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar to reveal the strong, tanned column of his throat.
“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” I said as we got in the car. “I know it’s not your kind of gathering. Not really mine, either, truth be told.”
“So why do you go?”
“I have to. Professional networking with the board of trustees and the chancellor. With the final tenure decision coming up, I need to prove I’m a team player.”
“Are you?”
“No. But if you hum a few bars, I’ll fake it.”
He laughed. The warm, rich sound stirred through me, making me feel like I’d just sipped a hot café mocha on a snowy night.
“So where are we going?” he asked.
I pulled up the browser on my phone to find a place. After directing Archer onto the highway leading to Rainwood, he exited near the downtown area.
We parked and walked to the Queen of Hearts club. The sidewalks were crowded with people out on a Saturday night. Laughter and music filtered through the air. Archer rested his hand on the small of my back as we wove through the crowd.
I appreciated that he gave me some space. I’d never liked it when men tried to hold my hand as we walked or put their arm heavily around my shoulders, as if they had to prove they were manly and protective. Archer didn’t have to prove anything. He just was.
He guided me into the club and paid the cover fee. Inside, colored lights lit the darkness, and couples gyrated on the dance floor. A reggae band was onstage, the rhythmic sounds of Caribbean music thumping.
After getting drinks, we found an empty table. Again, Archer sat close to me, but not too close. It was like he knew I still had boundaries and wouldn’t cross them.
Unless I wanted him to.
Which I didn’t.
Not even if he would make you ache and throb and probably scream—
Shut up.
I took a swallow of wine and turned my attention to the band. The reggae music was stimulating, the bass line thick and heavy. The beat of the snare drum began to echo inside me.
Archer leaned closer to my ear, raising his voice above the din. “Dance?”
I smiled and nodded. I hadn’t danced in ages, but there had been a time when not a weekend passed that I wasn’t out on the dance floor. Until I hit the straight and narrow with a precision that a laser would have envied. Anything fun got tossed to the wayside as I worked my way through grad school and post-doc positions.
I pushed the thought away and got to my feet. Archer closed his hand around mine, and we worked our way to the dance floor. It was easy to get into the rhythm of dancing with him. He didn’t get all up into my space, but took the lead in a way that made it entirely natural to fall into the music.
My blood warmed, and my tension slipped away, all the stress about review boards, proposals, and tenure decisions melting into the primitive beat. The lights flashed in a kaleidoscope of colors. I spun and twisted and twirled. Energy filled me. I welcomed Archer’s hands on my hips, his body brushing against mine.
My heart pulsed. Bodies gyrated around us. “Red Red Wine” pounded from the speakers, the heady beat pulling me closer to Archer. In the shifting light, his ruggedly handsome features looked sharper, harder, his eyes hot as coals as he raked his gaze over my body. My breath shortened. Our eyes clashed.
A current of electricity sizzled between us. He slid his hands down my sides, his touch burning a path clear through my dress. I drew in a breath, wanting him to pull me closer. I wanted to feel the length of his body against mine.
I closed the distance, unable to take my gaze from his, those midnight eyes in which I could see myself. My breasts brushed against his chest, a shock of arousal coursing from my hard nipples to my sex. He tightened his hands on my hips, the pressure evoking an unbearable craving to know what his touch would feel like on my bare skin. I wanted to put my arms around him. I wanted to press my cheek against his chest and let him take me to places that were dark, dangerous, and exhilarating.
The heat of his body enveloped me, drew me in. I moved where he moved, both of us swiveling our lower bodies, circling ever closer. My nerves burned. Then he was there, his hips pressed to my stomach, his chest against my breasts. We both slowed, still moving, the noise and dancing around us fading.
And then I felt the swell of his erection against me, a hard, unmistakable ridge pressing into my belly. Lust shot through me like a firebolt. He moved his hands slowly around to my ass and lowered his head, still guiding me to the rhythm of the music, his breath a warm trail over my cheek to my neck. I closed my eyes. My whole body went weak when he pressed his lips to my collarbone.
Oh, god. I was aching. I wanted him to slide his hands under my dress and caress my skin. I wanted him to push his knee between my legs and guide me to writhe against his strong thigh again. I wanted to feel his lips on my breasts, my belly, my—
A moan escaped me, barely audible under the noise of the music, the thumping bass line. I pressed my hand against Archer’s chest, felt the warm, rigid slopes of the muscles beneath his shirt, and then without thinking, I slid my hand down to cup the hard bulge pushing against his trousers. His breath hissed out. I leaned my forehead on his chest and closed my eyes.
I couldn’t do this. Shouldn’t do this…
His hands tightened on me, and when he spoke his voice was a rough growl.
“Let’s get out of here.”
We couldn’t move fast enough. He grabbed my hand and moved through the mass of people crowding the dance floor. I followed blindly, stunned by the intensity of my response to him, the hot fever coursing through my blood.
He got our jackets and hurried us out the front door, the rush of evening air a shock after the noise and heat of the nightclub. I shivered, struck by the sudden sense that I wasn’t losing control of this situation. I’d already lost control.
Archer tossed my jacket around my shoulders and led me back to the car. Before I could get in, he pushed me up against the passenger door, his hips hard against mine, his body so big and muscular I knew there would be no escape, even if I’d wanted it.
I didn’t. I wanted more. More of his body. More of his touch. More of him.
He stared at me, something feral lighting his dark eyes. He slipped his hand beneath my chin, tilting my face to his. My throat tightened with some indefinable emotion. I suddenly realized that the reason I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I’d felt like this was because… I never had.
“You’re beautiful,” Archer murmured, his husky voice rolling over my skin. He reached up with his other hand to touch the blue streak in my hair. “You’re like a creature from some exotic land that no one has discovered yet.”
I managed to find my voice through a laugh. “That is the strangest, most amazing compliment I’ve ever received.”
A responding smile tugged at his mouth before he lowered his head and captured my lips in a kiss of fierce possessiveness. I melted, falling against him, giving in to the urge to wind my arms around his neck and thread my fingers through his thick, dark hair. He shifted closer, his hands finding my hips again, sealing our bodies together. It was a kiss of command, of heat, of promise, of lust.
He urged my lips apart with the pressure of his, his tongue against mine bolting arousal to my core. A moan escaped me, sliding from my mouth to his. Our tongues danced as we kissed and licked and sucked. I pressed my hips against his and writhed, aching to feel the length of his hard cock, wishing desperately that I could see it, see him, touch all the planes of his body…
He lifted his head, breaking our kiss. His breathing was hard, rasping against my lips, tension coiling like wire through him. He leaned his forehead against mine and tightened his hands on my shoulders.
I couldn’t speak past the heat still filling my throat. I closed my eyes, unable to stand looking into the burning darkness of his gaze.
“What?” I whispered.
“We keep going, I’m going to fuck you right here,” he muttered, his voice rough with restraint. “You’re so goddamn sexy, you make me forget I have any control.”
“We could…” I swallowed hard and opened my eyes to stare at the unfastened buttons of his shirt, the V of tanned skin, the column of his throat where I knew his skin was warm and taut.
“We could go back to my place,” I whispered.
Oh, no. No. I couldn’t… I wouldn’t… no…
“Where do you live?” He nuzzled his nose into my hair, his breath stirring the tendrils around my temple.
“Back… back in Mirror Lake. I—I can tell you how to get there.” I knew I couldn’t drive. I could barely walk.
Archer moved away from me, the sudden loss of his body heat causing a cold shiver to prickle my skin. He reached around me to unlock the passenger-side door.
“Professor March?”
For a second, the world turned hazy. I blinked. Tried to take in a breath.
“Thought that was you,” said a young man’s voice. “Whatcha doing out here?”
A blond guy stood nearby with a couple of other college kids, all urban chic in jeans and T-shirts. I forced myself to snap out of the sensual heat in which I’d just been immersed.
I recognized the blond guy as one of my undergrad students from the previous semester. Matt. I cleared my throat and straightened, pushing away from the car.
“Hi, guys. Just out for a night. Thought we’d get out of Mirror Lake.” I sensed Archer behind me, but this time his presence wasn’t comforting. “Where are you guys going?”
“Over to a bar on East Street,” Matt said, his eyes flicking to Archer.
“Have a good time,” I said, then because I knew I had to sound like a professor rather than a horny woman who’d just been making out in a parking lot, I added, “Stay safe.”
“We will. Good seeing you.”
“You, too.” The college kids headed away from us toward the noise and lights of downtown. I was still cold. Behind me, Archer was silent.
I turned to face him. I looked at his beautiful mouth, the angles of his cheekbones, his thick-lashed eyes and eyebrows that mitigated the hard planes of his face. His eyes were shuttered now, as if he knew something had drastically changed.
An ache split through my chest. I wanted to curse, even as the rational part of my brain knew this was a reprieve I would again be grateful for in the morning.
Or at some point. Like a year from now, maybe.
“I… I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I should go home alone.”
Archer tilted his head in the direction the guys had gone. “Because of a few college kids?”
“They probably saw us kissing.”
“So?”
“They’ll talk.”
“So?” Irritation darkened his eyes. “Kissing won’t get you in trouble.”
“No, but… I don’t need it getting around that Professor March was busy making out in a parking lot on Saturday night.”
He pushed away from the car. “You don’t need it getting around that you were making out with me.”
“No!” A spark of anger flared. “This isn’t about you, Archer, believe it or not. I’m a professor… a good one. No. A great one. My students respect me. I’ve worked hard for my reputation, and I don’t want it getting around that I’m anything less than professional.”
“Jesus, Kelsey. You need to be a professor even when you’re off the clock?”
“I’m always on the clock.”
Archer looked at me, his eyes filled with frustration. Then he yanked open the passenger-side door and indicated that I should get in. I did, my hands shaking as I pulled on the seatbelt and waited for him to start the car.
I didn’t know how to explain it. I couldn’t. It was more than just a few guys catching Archer and me in a parking lot. For all I knew, they’d forgotten about the incident already, and even if they didn’t, they probably couldn’t have cared less what I was doing or with whom.
No. It was slipping into the uncontrollable that scared the living shit out of me, the knowledge that I’d been about to take a wild, reckless plunge over the edge. And the unbearable, aching sense that I’d love every second of it, even knowing the fall would hurt like hell.
Because there was always a fall. Always a price to pay.
We drove out of Rainwood in silence. I spoke only to tell Archer how to get to my house on Mousehole Lane. When he pulled up to the driveway, I fumbled for my jacket and purse.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I know I was… I mean, I…”
Christ. I stammered more with this man than I ever had in my life. I couldn’t form a sentence around him. I could hardly grab a coherent thought.
Get it together, Professor March.
“Archer, thank you for coming with me tonight,” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. “I apologize for leading you on again. I’m not… I’m not always myself when I’m with you.”
“Yeah, you are. You just don’t know it yet.”
My stomach knotted. A girl who took risks and faced challenges without fear…
“Well, good night.” I took hold of the door handle. “You can borrow my car to get wherever you need to go. You can either bring it back here tomorrow or leave it at Liv and Dean’s.”
I started to push the door open when his hand enclosed my wrist. I turned back to him. He was watching me, his face shadowed and his expression unreadable.
“Does the offer to come in still stand?” he asked.
“Archer, I said I—”
He held up his other hand in the gesture of a pledge. “I won’t touch you. We haven’t had a chance to talk all evening. Give me an hour alone with you with no one else around.”
Something shifted inside me as I gazed at him, at his eyes that almost glittered in the night. I wanted to be alone with him, too. And while there was a whole hell of a lot I wanted to do with him, I was absolutely certain he wouldn’t break his promise.
“Just to talk,” I said, in case there was any misunderstanding.
“Just to talk. Though I won’t turn down something to eat, if you were to offer it. That dinner wasn’t enough to feed a cat.”
“Okay.” I let out a breath. “Eat and talk only.”
“Okay. But I have to warn you that I’m still hard.”
My heart jolted, my gaze snapping involuntarily to his lap. It was too dark to see anything. I forced my eyes back to his face.
Archer winked at me. “Made you look.”