Samantha Hunter - Unexpected Temptation

“Are you all right?” he asked, his eyes searching her face again. “We were all concerned when we saw the news.”

“I’m fine, thank you. Just some bumps and scrapes.”

Vanessa held his gaze, but almost caved, he was staring at her so intently.

“Do you know what I did before I came here, Vanessa?”

She blinked, surprised by his use of her first name. He always insisted on formal address.

“I was part of the search committee, so I know you were in the military, and when you came home, you went back to school and received your Ph.D. in Education, and then worked at a few very prestigious schools before you came here, yes.”

“That’s my résumé. But what I did was work in a bomb-disposal unit. I was exposed to explosions on an almost daily basis. Roadside explosions, mostly, but a few times we had close calls in structures. Buildings,” he clarified, and she saw his eyes darken in an emotional way that made her catch her breath. “Sometimes we got there too late, or it didn’t go well. I saw that, too.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I remember how long it took to get used to it. If you ever do. I still have nightmares about it sometimes.”

Vanessa blinked, unsure of what had brought on this sudden confession.

“I can only imagine how horrible—”

“No need to imagine—you lived through that today. The reporter said he wasn’t sure what was the source of the explosion, but I could see right away that it was set on purpose, from how it blew up. You were lucky, and we’re all very glad about that.”

She nodded.

“But you shouldn’t be here,” he finished.

“But I’m fine, really, and I have my presentation prepared already, and the kids expect—”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, surprising her again and cutting off her objection. She stiffened, and realizing he’d stepped over the line, he drew back his touch.

“Listen, Vanessa. I know how it feels. I know the need to close it out and want everything back to normal, but it’s not normal. Not at the moment. Likely you haven’t even begun to deal with what’s happened yet and being here is the last thing you should be doing. What if you break down on stage? Worse, someone tried to blow up your house—I won’t ask why—but you should be in police protection. I can’t risk whatever danger you’re in affecting the school, the kids—parents have already been calling about that.”

“But it was a mistake, I’m sure. Someone must have thought my house was someone else’s. It’s the only explanation. Who would want to hurt me?”

“I agree, but until that’s certain, I have to insist you don’t come to school. I’ve already cleared it with the board to put you on extended paid leave. Your job will be here for you when you are ready to come back. But that’s not right now. Go deal with this. Find someone to talk to—if you can’t, then here’s a number for a friend of mine. She deals with post-traumatic stress specifically. You’d like her. But you can’t be here right now. It’s not good for you, or the kids.”

Vanessa’s world was blown to bits for the second time that day. She held Mr. Edwards’s card in her hand, frozen, unsure what to do next.

“Let me get someone to help you with your things and walk you to your car. Are you okay to drive?”

“I’m fine,” Vanessa bit out, suddenly very angry. “You may not believe it, but I am. Why won’t anyone believe me?”

How could they do this to her? After everything she’d been through, they were taking this away from her, too?

“It’s not permanent, Vanessa. You’ll be back before Columbus Day, I’m sure. But when the matter clears, you’ll see that I’m right.”

The anger receded as quickly as it had risen. She was completely exhausted.

“Okay, yes. I want to do what’s best for the kids.”

“I know. Go rest. Recover and get your life back together. I hope they find who did this so you can really put it behind you.”

“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Mr. Edwards squeezed her shoulder in support and then went back to the auditorium where he and everyone else would go on with the program. Without her.

Vanessa walked like a zombie to her classroom, where she stared at the empty desks and the absolutely clean chalkboard. She always loved decorating her door for the new school year and writing her name on that perfect board for the first time every September. She would have all of the kids come up and write their names on it, too, to introduce themselves.

This year, someone else would be welcoming her students.

But Mr. Edwards was right. She couldn’t risk even the slightest chance that she could upset or bring harm to her students. Her bruises had already worried sweet Kayla, and Vanessa felt a pinch of guilt.

Blowing out a breath, she went to her desk and started cleaning it out, packing the few things she had in there in a box that she found in the supply closet.

It was only for a month or so, until the police closed the investigation and found the person who ruined her house. She’d start rebuilding, her bruises would fade and she’d be back to work. Maybe the leave was a blessing in disguise. This way she could focus on starting again, and—

A noise in the hall stalled her thoughts, making her freeze in place.

“Hello?” she called out into the hallway.

No one answered.

Shaking off the momentary panic, Vanessa returned to packing her desk but then jumped as the door behind her clicked shut and the lights in the room went dark.

Before she could turn around, someone grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth, and she felt something hard jab into her ribs. She twisted, a stinging pain in her side making her cry out.

Vanessa fought and managed to grip the hand holding the knife, pushing it away from her and stomping hard on her assailant’s foot. He yelled, bending forward. His hold loosened as she threw her head back and caught him in the face and then turned to bring her knee up into his groin.

Down he went at her feet.

She was breathing so hard that she thought she might pass out. Vanessa grabbed the weapon and turned to run, but her attacker’s hand closed around her ankle. She fell hard. The knife flew out of her hand, sliding somewhere into the darkness under the desks.

On a surreal level, what crossed her mind was that she didn’t want any of the kids finding it, even though she was still struggling to get away. He was strong, and he managed to drag her closer even as she fought and screamed. No one could hear her—her door was closed, and she was on the far side of the building, away from the auditorium.

He must have been watching the whole time.

“Who are you? Did you set the bomb? Why are you doing this to me?” she managed, landing a rough kick to his forehead as he pulled her closer.

Unexpectedly, the door swung open and the lights went on. Vanessa looked up into the face of Luke Berringer, whose expression was so fierce that she was afraid of him all over again.

He jumped on the man holding her and yelled, “Go!”

Vanessa wasn’t sure what to do. She couldn’t leave Luke here with this attacker, and she watched as both men stood, facing off.

“Vanessa, get out,” he repeated through his teeth, not taking his eyes off the other man, who was completely covered, face and all.

Vanessa could see only his very, very cold eyes, now trained on Luke.

But then, as the two men began to grapple, a flood of voices in the hallway made them all stop. The man fighting with Luke broke away and ran back out the door, disappearing down the hall.

Luke took off after him.

She heard the kids’ voices coming closer, all being given a tour of the school with their parents. She found the knife that had skidded across the floor, grabbed her bag and headed for the nearest exit.