Susan Connell - Rebel's Spirit

“I didn’t. I talked to his sister. Megan said Alan would be away for the next six weeks and that you probably wouldn’t mind if I took the place for, uh…“ She stopped to lick a drop of water from her lips.

He felt his stern expression dissolving as his gaze riveted to where she was pressing her tongue. The tip glistened warm and pink in the late-afternoon light before she drew it slowly into her mouth again. The guileless gesture caught him off guard, causing a distinct stirring in the region of his groin. Her bare shoulders, high cheekbones and slicked-back hair, against that background of blue water, reminded him of a travel poster he’d seen for Tahiti. But this was November in New Jersey. Instead of orchids, the water around his lovely, but foolhardy, intruder was decorated with ripples from the wind. None of that mattered; she was easily the most exotic creature he’d ever seen.

“You were saying, Miss…?” he asked as he watched the water lapping against her shoulders. When he heard his monotoned voice he knew he should be pulling himself out of the sensual haze he’d wandered into, but the struggle just didn’t seem worth it. The movement of that bright blue water against her lightly tanned shoulders was drawing him back to the scene a few minutes ago when water was splashing against her bottom. That firm yet lush posterior that set off bells inside his head. And a need to pull at the knot in his tie as the scene settled into his consciousness. He dragged a finger across his mouth to hide his dry swallow, then shoved both hands in his pockets.

Resting against the pool wall, the woman positioned her chin on her stacked fists on the inside edge. “Tsk, tsk. I can’t believe, after all we went through, that you would forget me so easily.”

He narrowed his eyes as he fought back a wave of uneasiness. Although he’d never gone long without the touch of a woman, he wasn’t one to indulge in lost weekends with them, either, so that possibility was out. But somewhere in time they’d shared an emotional moment or two. He rolled his eyes at her killer grin. When she turned it full force on him, suddenly it was the only thing he could think about. That and the relentless way she kept staring at him. She was a stubborn one all right. Flexing his knees, he frowned. Stubborn? Where had that stray thought come from? If he had to describe her he’d use words like charming. Delightful. Desirable. Mysterious. Definitely mysterious. No, he didn’t remember her but he sure as hell would like to.

Shrugging, he gave her a help-me-out-here scowl. “I’m trying.”

“Well, try harder… Mr. Hanlon,” she said, raising her chin in a half-challenging, half-amused move.

He had to hand it to her. Most people would not have put up with his brusque manner, but she appeared to be feasting on it. Whoever she was, she had confidence to spare. And a directness that suggested the teasing light in her eyes wasn’t simply a manifestation of her good humor.

“Let’s see,” he said, as the playful moment resonated with erotic overtones. “Would this memory I’m attempting to retrieve involve clothing?”

Her unrestrained laughter had him smiling.

“It’s my hair.”

He squinted. He was more confused than ever. He would have sworn “it” was her bottom. He had the distinct feeling he’d seen that flawless, neatly rounded, slim-hipped backside before. Or maybe he’d only imagined a tush as perfect as hers, but he wouldn’t bet his tenure on it. “Your hair?” He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s your hair.”

She reached to pull a few wet locks upward off her forehead. “I used to have it blond and spiked up on top.”

Blond. Spiked on top. Raleigh looked at her hair and then her face. He drew in half a breath through his parted lips before the haze cleared and the earth shuddered to a stop. Cold prickles tumbled down his back. He slowly pulled his hands from his pockets. No. She couldn’t be. He closed his eyes then dragged his hands over his face before he looked at her again. There it was, that wide-eyed, too-innocent smile. Air rushed from his lungs in a tortured groan.

The hair was different, the voice a little deeper, but her eyes hadn’t changed. Big, blue and deceptively innocent…until it appeared she would never blink them. But back then he’d made it his business to make her blink. Those thickly fringed, brazen blue eyes that had challenged his sanity more times than he could count, belonged to the bane of his high school teaching career. So what if ten years had passed…he’d just been ogling one of his students. And not just any student! “Rebecca Barnett.”

Her laughter shot through him like a well-aimed tickle, charging along nerve endings and into places it had no business going. It took effort not to smile at her genuine delight, but he was a master at disguising his emotions. Unfortunately he couldn’t do anything about the unbidden and entirely unwelcomed thrill coursing through him.

Who knew where she could have taken this moment, if he hadn’t figured out who she was? Lord help him. Who knew where he would have allowed, or worse, encouraged her to take it? He swallowed hard as several interesting possibilities burgeoned into his consciousness. Heat continued building in his groin, testing the limits of his well-practiced composure. How long had it been since he’d indulged himself with ideas as wild as those?

Irritation suddenly got the better of him. Smoothing his palms along his thighs, he felt his nostrils flare.

“Still the same old games, Miss Barnett?” he asked, knowing full well that no matter what had just transpired, there had never been a hint of flirtation in their dealings as teacher and student.

Her laughter dissolved to a stunned look that grabbed at his gut. The playful light drained from her eyes and with it the easiness she’d brought to the encounter. He deserved a swift kick for that stupid remark.

“You know, you could have slipped on the diving board or hit your head on the bottom,” he said, softening his tone as he lowered himself to his haunches. He laced his fingers together then let his hands dangle by the juncture of his thighs while he waited for her response.

Whether it was a wayward moment of guilt or the beginning step in a slow waltz of seduction, her gaze dropped to his wing tip shoes before traveling slowly to his mouth and then his eyes. She looked at him so long he began to think he was the one in danger of drowning.

“Christmas is coming. Where’s your holiday spirit?” she asked, breaking the stare as she plowed more hair from her forehead.

The action caused a generous portion of her breasts to rise out of the water. He caught sight of the tight and tempting twin rosettes of flesh before she repositioned her body against the wall of the pool. Too late; he was already remembering the pale expanse of her belly, the dark thatch below and the sensations they’d caused in him.

He rubbed at his brow with his thumbnail as he tried to locate one cell in his body that wasn’t being affected by her. Although Rebecca Barnett had never been easy to reason with in her high school days, at least she hadn’t complicated their exchanges with enough sexual sparks to blow up the high school. Pursing his lips in a thoughtful manner, he drew on his dominant role as teacher.

“If I remember correctly, you usually pulled these stunts with a few friends in tow.”

Twisting on the balls of his feet, he looked toward the gate, more to keep his gaze from tracing her delicate collarbone and the soft swells beneath it than to search for anyone else.

“So tell me, Miss Barnett, are we to expect another naked swimmer here anytime soon?”

From the corner of his eye he detected a slight change in her posture, a definite reangling of her chin and, finally, a lowering sweep of her lashes. His heart sank with the knowledge that he’d set something off inside her. A move he was sure he was going to regret.