“Next time, keep your hands in your pockets.”
He chuckled dryly. “Fat chance, with your dress showing off your breasts like that.”
She unfastened her lacy shawl and draped it across her bodice and over her shoulder. She gave him a haughty glance and waited for him to open the front door.
“The next dress I buy will have a mandarin neckline, you can bet on that,” she told him under her breath.
“Make sure it doesn’t have buttons, then,” he whispered outrageously as he stood aside to let her pass.
“Lecher,” she whispered.
“Temptress,” he whispered back.
She walked past him and into the living room before he could think up any more smart remarks to throw at her. She looked calm, but inside, she was rippling with tiny fears and remnants of pleasure from his touch. It occurred to her that, over the years, she’d been more intimate with him than any other man she’d ever known, but he’d never kissed her.
Thinking about that didn’t help her situation, so she smiled warmly at Bob and Charles as they rose to their feet, and then at Vivian and the tall, blond man who stood up from his seat on the sofa beside her.
“Natalie, this is Whit,” Vivian introduced them. Her blue eyes looked at the blond man with total possession. Whit, in turn, looked at Natalie as if he’d just discovered oil.
Oh, boy, Natalie thought miserably as she registered the gleam in Whit’s blue eyes when they shook hands. He held hers for just a few seconds too long, and she grimaced. Here was a complication she hadn’t counted on.
Chapter Three
It didn’t help matters that Whit was a graduate of the same community college Natalie attended and had taken classes with some of the professors who taught her. Vivian had never wanted to go to college, and was unsure what she wanted to do with her life. Just recently, Mack had put his foot down and insisted that she get either a job or a degree. Vivian had been horrified, but she’d finally agreed to try a course in computer programming at the local vocational school. That was where she’d met Whit, who taught English there.
As they ate dinner, Natalie carefully maneuvered the conversation toward the vocational school, so that Vivian could join in. Vivian was livid and getting more upset by the minute. Natalie could have kicked Mack for putting her in this position. If only he’d let Vivian invite Whit over unconditionally!
“Why didn’t you go to college to study computer programming?” Whit asked Vivian, and managed to make it sound condescending.
“The classes were already full when I decided to go,” Vivian said with a forced smile. “Besides, I’d never have met you if I’d gone to college instead of the vocational school.”
“I suppose not.” He smiled at her, but his attention went immediately back to Natalie. “What grade do you plan to teach?”
“First or second,” Natalie said. “And I have to leave very soon, I’m afraid. I have exams next week, so I expect to be up very late tonight studying.”
“You can’t even stay for dessert?” Whit asked.
“Nope…sorry.”
“What a shame,” Whit said.
“Yes, what a shame.” Vivian echoed the words, but the tone was totally different.
“I’ll walk you out to your car,” Mack said before Whit could volunteer.
Whit knew when he was beaten. He smiled sheepishly and asked Vivian if she’d pour him a second cup of coffee.
It was pitch black outside. Mack held Natalie’s arm on the way down the steps, but not in any affectionate way. He was all but cutting off the circulation.
“Well, that was a disaster,” he said through his teeth.
“It was your disaster,” she pointed out irritably. “If you hadn’t insisted that I come over, too—”
“Disaster is my middle name lately,” he replied with halfhearted amusement.
“He isn’t a bad man,” she told him. “He’s just normal. He likes anything with a passable figure. Sooner or later, Viv is going to realize that he has a wandering eye, and she’ll drop him. If,” she added forcibly, “you don’t put her back up by disapproving of him. In that case, she’ll probably marry him out of spite!”
He stopped at the driver’s side of her car and let her arm fall. “Not if you’re around, she won’t.”
“I won’t be around. He gives me the willies,” she said flatly. “If I hadn’t had this shawl on, I’d have pulled the tablecloth over my head!”
“I told you not to wear anything low-cut.”
“I only did that to spite you,” she admitted. “Next time, I’ll wear an overcoat.” She dug in her evening bag for her car keys. “And I thought you said he was a boy. He isn’t. He’s a teacher.”
“He’s a boy compared to me.”
“Most men are boys compared to you,” she said impatiently. “If Viv used you as a yardstick, she’d never date anybody at all!”
He glared at her. “That doesn’t sound very much like a compliment.”
“It isn’t. You expect anything male to be just like you.”
“I’m successful.”
“Yes, you’re successful,” she conceded. “But you’re a social disaster! You open your mouth, and people run for the exits!”
“Is it my fault if people can’t do their jobs properly?” he shot back. “I try not to interfere unless I see people making really big mistakes,” he began.
“Waitresses who can’t get the coffee strong enough,” she interrupted, counting on her fingers. “Bandleaders who don’t conduct with enough spirit, firemen who don’t hold the hoses right, police officers who forget to give turn signals when you’re following them, little children whose shoelaces aren’t tied properly—”
“Maybe I interfere a little,” he defended himself.
“You’re a walking consumer advocate group,” she countered, exasperated. “If you ever get captured by an enemy force, they’ll shoot themselves!”
He started to smile. “Think so?”
She threw up her hands. “I’m going home.”
“Good idea. Maybe the English expert will follow suit.”
“If he doesn’t, you could always correct his grammar,” she suggested.
“That’s the spirit.”
She opened the door and got into the car.
“Don’t speed,” he said, leaning to the open window, and he wasn’t smiling. “There’s more than a little fog out here. Take your time getting home, and keep your doors locked.”