Learning Curves

“I don’t know,” he rasped. “I think you’re just taking me a little by surprise today.”

She stiffened. “You don’t think I’m cut out for it, either, do you?”

“What?” Dear Lord, he’d barely recovered his breath. He wasn’t ready for round two.

“You don’t think I’m the kind of woman who knows enough about the mating process to write effectively about it.” She stood, all five and a half feet of her trembling with anger and indignation.

“Is that what your review committee said?” No wonder she was upset.

She seemed to lose a bit of her edge then, sinking back down into the chair, defeated. “Just because I don’t go out very much doesn’t mean I can’t see mating rituals all around me. It’s not like I don’t have…feelings.”

Thank goodness his coffee cup remained firmly planted on the table, where he intended to leave it for the rest of this conversation. “Just where have you been hanging out to witness these…whatever you call them…‘mating rituals’?” Cal didn’t know if he’d be able to continue this discussion if they kept flinging around the term “mating.”

“I don’t mean the sex act,” she informed him. “I mean the flirtation that goes on between men and women as a prelude to sex. The human equivalent of mating calls. You know.” She waved her hand in the air as if he would understand exactly what she meant. “Mating rituals.”

Heat surged through him. He couldn’t sit there staring back at her any longer, so he got up and paced the lounge. “This is what you want to study for your dissertation?”

“I want to do some empirical research on what sorts of flirtation leads to an actual relationship.”

Cal wiped a hand over his face. “Now you mean the sex act.”

She beamed at him like a star pupil. “Exactly.”

“Won’t this be difficult to follow up on?” No wonder her plan had gotten turned down by the review committee. If there had been any men on that board, they wouldn’t have been able to sit still through her risqué proposal. “I mean, how will you know what takes place between men and women after they leave your field of vision?”

“Interviews.” She sipped her coffee, appearing more calm now that they were discussing her field.

He, on the other hand, felt edgier than a caged beast. “I see.”

But he didn’t see. All he could envision was naive Madeline Watson camping out at area singles bars in her glasses and sensible shoes, getting hit on by the hounds that hang out in those places. She might be a smart lady when it came to college, but she had obviously lived a sheltered life. She didn’t know anything about the world Cal had grown up in—a world where guts and determination counted for more than any degree.

She set her coffee mug back on the table and traced the red U of L logo with an idle finger. “One of the members of the dissertation committee implied I didn’t get approved because I’m not experienced enough to handle such a racy project. Can you imagine?”

That had been his thought exactly. How could you write about flirtation when you’d never tried it? He, of all people, knew Madeline Watson wasn’t the type of woman a guy could trade sexual innuendos with. He’d gotten the impression that because her father had been a single parent and a brilliant scientist to boot, Maddy had been a little overprotected.

“But I’ve decided I’m not going to take no for an answer.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to repropose the project.” She looked up at him, her gaze unusually sure and steady. “But first, I’m going to procure some of the experience the committee seems to think I’m lacking.”

Cal paused in mid-pace and sank onto one of the tables for support. “You’re going to procure experience?” He had that feeling you get when they’re reading off the lottery numbers and you have them all right so far. Did the Lady Scholar really want to use him for…practice? He couldn’t decide whether to be insulted or excited as hell.

“Yes.” She stood, her back straight beneath her bulky men’s dress shirt.

Still, he could see her fingers pluck a nervous rhythm against the cuff of an overly long sleeve.

“But I need to create a public splash as I do this experience gathering. I need to have an affair that will be highly visible.”

Damn. Maddy’s public splash was dousing cold water over a scheme that had started out sounding so promising. He couldn’t afford a high-visibility affair. Not anymore. “And you were coming to me with this proposal because…?”

Maybe part of him wanted to hear that she’d found something to admire in him after all this time. Underneath that proper exterior, did Madeline Watson hide a small flame for the garage mechanic?

“I came to you because you’ve got the most notorious reputation on campus. If I’m seen so much as walking to class with you, my status as the inexperienced bookworm with nothing to do on Saturday nights will disappear. And if, perhaps, you imparted a passionate public kiss or two…”

Cal’s insides twisted. She only wanted him because his bad reputation might rub off on her. She wanted the man he once was, not the man he was trying to become—the man he had to be if he had any hopes of gaining custody of his sister.

Even so, he would have jumped all over that offer a few months ago. He’d have given anything to see what happened when uptight Madeline decided to take a walk on the wild side. If her actions tonight were any indication of what was in store, then it sounded pretty damn enticing to him.

But Madeline officially ranked as a graduate student at U of L, even though she taught more classes than he did. Relations between graduate students and teachers—including part-time ones such as Cal—were frowned upon by the administration. Cal couldn’t risk the potential scandal of a relationship like that right now. He was sort of surprised Maddy would, considering her dedication to her job. This project obviously meant a lot to her.

Madeline studied him intently, the flicking rhythm of her fingers against her shirt cuff picking up pace. “Will you help me?”

Cal closed his eyes, knowing he would damn himself for a long time to come. “I’m sorry, Maddy. I can’t.”

He was prepared for her to be disappointed. He wasn’t prepared for the horror in her voice as she echoed his words back at him.

“Can’t? What do you mean, you can’t?”

2

SHOCKED AT CAL’S announcement, Madeline allowed her gaze to roam over the broad expanse of his impressive chest. “I have a hard time believing that, Cal Turner. You have the most notorious reputation on campus! I don’t think you could have claimed such a distinction without being perfectly capable of fulfilling the mating function.”

Cal’s jaw dropped as he gaped at her. “I am capable, Maddy.” He squeezed his temples, his closed jaw now flexing in what appeared to be a case of vast frustration. “In fact, I am more than capable.”

An odd flash of relief sizzled through her at that news. Her quest to study mating rituals aside, she recognized that she had propositioned Cal because she’d been attracted to him for years.

His hands fell to his sides and he stalked toward her. There was no other way to describe how he zeroed in on her as he approached. Like a watchdog with hackles raised, Cal seemed to have flexed every muscle in his possession. She could pick out the lines of virtually every one exposed to her view.

Madeline swallowed hard, trying to will away thoughts of the strong sinews that were off limits to her hungry gaze. Her interest in him wasn’t purely carnal, after all. She might have always been attracted to Cal, but she never would have approached him if she hadn’t desperately needed his help for scientific purposes.

He didn’t stop until he stood toe to toe with her—until his big chest hovered inches from her starched shirt. Her flesh tingled and tightened in direct response to the heat of his body.

“I am also very ready, and physically willing.” Cal’s hazel eyes seemed to darken to almost-brown as he stared down at her. “Do you know what that means?”

Madeline forced herself to not look down. “I have a pretty good idea.”

“The problem is not that I can’t, Professor, but that I will not allow myself to indulge in…” His gaze slid from her eyes to her body, and perused her with aching slowness. “…the pleasure.”

Awareness kicked to life, making her wish for the first time that she was the kind of woman who wore silks instead of cottons. Would he have taken her up on her proposition then?

“Oh.” The edgy hunger inside her started to fade—a little anyway—as it began to sink in that he was really telling her no. She took a deep breath and attempted to smile politely. “I see.”

“No. You don’t see.” Cal stepped back a pace and seated himself on one of the tables.

Madeline had no desire to hear Cal’s excuses for not sleeping with her. She’d put herself on the line and he’d turned her down flat. She wouldn’t stick around for a let’s-still-be-friends speech.

“That’s okay.” She retrieved her glasses and shoved them back where they belonged. Picking up her U of L mug, she retreated to the lounge’s small kitchen area. As she washed the cup and placed it back on the rack next to a dozen other people’s mugs, she rambled. “I just happened to think of you because we’ve been friends for a while, and I thought you were safe.”