Mr. James: A Forbidden Romance (2 page)

Connor mindlessly rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, revealing his strong forearms, and went right on teaching and talking with no idea in the world that he was being so carefully studied by so many.  If he had known, he’d have preferred that every one of them were studying the content of his class rather than him.

Catalina, having been through three years of school with him, was well accustomed to seeing the reaction he produced in females around him. She eyed them, rather than him, smiling to herself, knowing what they were thinking, and knowing that there was no way in the world that he would ever consider anything even remotely close to it with a single one of them. He was a traditional man of honor and morality in every aspect of life; something she had gotten to know about him in the very first month of her classes with him when she had started college.

The class ended a short time later and several of the women went to him with inane questions and quick snippets of conversation, trying to flirt with him and catch his eye. He was profoundly adept at answering their questions, resolving their issues, or just being polite and friendly, and then evaporating from their presence swiftly.

He looked directly at Catalina and nodded his head subtly toward his office. She quietly stood up and left, crossing the hall and going down a few doors to his office, and where she waited for him.

A few minutes later, he stepped away from his classroom alone and walked down the hall toward her, letting go of a breath he had been holding and giving her a smile. She smiled back and her dimple showed, and her blue gray eyes seemed to have a light in them that made his stomach tighten when he saw her. He tried to push the feeling away, but at the end of the last year it had begun to stir in him every time he saw her, and he promised himself that a summer away from her would make it go away. A summer away from her had made him long to see her again, and when the fall semester started, the feeling came back stronger, and he fought against it just as hard as it pulled at him.

He wasn’t even sure what it was exactly; it wasn’t sexual arousal, it was something about her that sucked his breath away from him, made him feel like everything in the world around him was vanishing, made his body tense, made his stomach tighten just a little, and made him want to be nearer to her, like she was a magnet and he could not find solace unless he was near to her, and the nearer he was, the stronger the pull became.

Connor felt it paramount that all of those feelings be kept locked safely inside him, and that he never let them show. She was first and foremost his student, his responsibility; and he was her teacher, a guide and protector, and nothing more.

That was all that he would let himself be to her, and every time the feelings came and he fought them, it was for both of them. It was for her, to respect her as a student, a professional in training, an individual, and a woman, and it was for him, to maintain decorum and a high moral standard, to be trustworthy and responsible, to be the educator that she trusted him and paid him to be, and nothing more.

It was a struggle that had begun to grow increasingly difficult, and dim tendrils of anxiety had rooted in him, stealing through the core of him, whispering to him that he had almost an entire year ahead of him to struggle through, and that it wasn’t going to get any easier as time passed and she neared graduation.

The promise of her imminent departure weighed so heavy in him that he refused to think of it. He blocked the dark day from his mind and focused, as he was so good at doing, on every present moment, which allowed him the breathing room to try to concentrate on being her devoted professor, committed to her future and her success as a photojournalist.

“How are you doing today?” he asked lightly as he drew near to her and pulled the keys to his office out of the pocket of his jeans.

She caught the fresh scent of his cologne as he came to her and as she breathed it in. It made her pause a moment as she tried to clear her mind and refocus on what he had said to her. Looking at him from a distance and appreciating the view was one thing, but standing next to him, breathing in his scent and feeling the heat from his sculpted body was another thing altogether. She blinked a few times and smiled, looking away from him for a moment as he walked past her into the room.

“Oh, um…. I’m great! I’m so excited about the trip! I wasn’t sure if we were going to get the passes at all, so I didn’t let myself think about getting them, I just waited and kept my mind on other things, but now that we have them, it’s all I can think about!” She followed him into the room, feeling her face warm slightly when she realized that her eyes had gone straight to the back pockets of his jeans, just like all the other girls in the classroom. She closed her eyes and sighed, then turned her head to look at the bookcase on the far wall of his office as she walked over and sat on the big old leather sofa there.

Connor tipped his head and laughed lightly. “Yeah, I didn’t know if we were going to get those either, and it was a surprise to see them come in this morning, but I’m just as excited as you are. This is a good story for you to begin with; it’s a big deal, and you should be thrilled about it.”

“I’m nervous, too,” she admitted, looking down at her hands in her lap as she twisted the ring on her right hand. It was one that her mother had worn before she passed away, and Catalina never took it off. It was gold with eight tiny diamonds in a circle, eight small red rubies in a circle above that, and one single tiny diamond at the center of the rubies, making the ring look like a poinsettia. She always wore it, and it was a nervous habit of hers to twist it when she was feeling pressured.

He looked over at her and smiled as he picked up a file from his desk and walked over to her. He saw her twisting her ring and he knew that she must be very nervous indeed. He’d picked up on that habit of hers in the first semester when she did it on test days or when he was reviewing her work.

Connor sat beside her on the sofa and placed the file on the coffee table before them. He was much closer to her than he normally was, and she was surprised to find that she could barely keep her thoughts on the file he was opening and talking about. She leaned forward toward the table and kept her eyes on the papers he was showing her, but all the while, her senses were locked on everything about him; his heat, his nearness, his scent, the hardness of his body, and it seemed like the harder she tried to focus on what he was saying, the more her senses tried to take over and intoxicate her with everything about him.

“So, we’ll meet here tomorrow morning, and we should get an early start. I’d say seven. Does that work for you?” he asked, turning to look at her. He regretted doing it the moment their eyes connected and he drew in his breath, feeling his body tighten slightly.
She was too close
to him.
Much too close,
he thought, but when he considered moving, he knew it would be awkward, so he broke the hold of their gaze and looked back at the paperwork before him.

“Yeah, sure. Seven is fine,” she said quietly, directing her own attention to the paperwork and drawing in a breath.

He cleared his throat and continued. “Great. Okay, so we’ll leave at seven. I called and booked each of us a room at a hotel in Springfield the minute I found out that we got the press passes.  I couldn’t believe it, but it’s the same hotel where the banquet will be on the last night of the conference. It’s crazy that they even had any rooms left. I’ve put some requests in with a few of the big wigs there for an invitation to the banquet, but everyone wants to go and that’s the hottest ticket of the whole event, so it’s unlikely to happen. It’s worth a try. Just in case we get in to it, you should bring something formal to wear. No guarantees though.”

She nodded. “Got it.”

“The first day is the debates, the second is a town hall meeting, and then the last day is another debate to discuss issues brought up at the town hall meeting. The banquet follows that and closes everything down. We’re in for all of it but the banquet. Bring all of your camera gear, and I’ll have mine in case you need anything.” He sighed and leaned back against the sofa, looking toward her slightly.

“I’m really proud of all that you’ve done and what you’re going to be able to do here. The work that you’ve done over the last three years has put you into a really great position to get a job doing photojournalism work just about anywhere. You’re really talented and you’re such a hard worker.

“This is your payoff. You can do this, no matter how nervous you get, no matter what happens; this is the doorway to the future for you. I’ll be right there to make sure everything goes as well as it can for you.” He smiled at her and she felt overwhelmed with gratitude for everything that he had done for her.

Without thinking about it at all, she leaned over to him and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close. “You have been my inspiration all the way through it. I never could have gotten anywhere with any of it, if it weren’t for you. Thank you so much for everything, especially for this trip,” she told him, her mouth near his ear, and her breath on his neck.

The feel of her body pressed against his, even in their embrace on the sofa, gave him a rush that he had never anticipated. Her face pressed against his cheek as she breathed on his neck was dizzying to him. He could not react for a moment, wanting desperately to turn his face toward her and press his lips to her neck. He closed his eyes and breathed in, realizing too late that the soft sweet scent of vanilla that filled his nose and then his lungs was just as tantalizing as she was in his arms. He gave her a quick squeeze back to reciprocate her thanks, and then he let her go and stood up abruptly.

Drawing in a sharp breath, he walked to his desk and jammed his hands down into his pockets. It had finally happened. She was so close and so tempting that he had felt a heated stirring in his groin, and in his mind, he demanded of his body that platonic normalcy prevail. His body began to grow hard for her.

He walked around his desk and sat down in his chair, sliding it up against the desk as far as it would go, hiding his stiffening arousal. He was mortified that it had happened, and he felt his face growing warm.

She was a student, he reminded himself. His student, looking up to him for education and guidance, not lecherous and abominable behavior. He shook his head and looked down at papers on his desk without really seeing them.

“I’ve got several things to take care of here. Why don’t you do whatever you need to do to prepare for the trip, and I’ll see you tomorrow at seven, alright?” he confirmed, not doing much more than glancing up at her for a moment to acknowledge her.

She rose up off the sofa and nodded at him with a smile. “I’ll do that. Thank you so much, again. It really means the world to me.”  It had taken her breath away to feel him so close to her, but she forced herself not to think of it, and she moved quickly toward the door, opening it and waving to him as she hurried out.

Connor dropped his head into his hands and groaned when the door was closed. Guilt crashed through him and he sighed in frustration as he stood up and walked over to the windows in his office. He opened two of them; tall graceful old windows that held old glass and were framed in time weathered oak.

As he gazed out of them, he saw her crossing the lawn in front of the building, and he watched her walk so gracefully, almost gliding, the sun reflecting off her hair and skin. He sighed again and lifted his hand to the window pane, leaning his forehead against it as she got further from him.

He could not have her. He could not wish to have her, or want her. She was off limits and desiring her was out of the question. He made himself think those thoughts over and over, like a mantra that he was determined to make himself believe. He vowed to respect her and remain committed to his position at the school. He’d never had any kind of romantic or inappropriate feelings for any student before at any time, and he was determined that this anomaly of desire for her was not going to get the better of him.

He remained at the window, watching her until she vanished from sight, and then he closed the window and told himself that he had to focus with laser beam intensity on the work they would do in the week ahead, and nothing else.

Chapter2

Catalina could hardly sleep the night before their trip, for several reasons. First and foremost, she was completely elated to be going for the work. Second to that, and only slightly so, was that after her visit with Connor in his office, she had struggled to keep him out of her thoughts and off her mind.

Moments that had happened between them kept returning to her; the brush of his arm against hers, the quickened heartbeat when he turned and looked into her eyes, the feel of him in her arms and up against her body when she had hugged him, and so many other brief, fleeting, powerful moments with him that continued to make her breathless when they crossed her mind, over and over, hours after they had passed.

She didn’t know where the building attraction was coming from, only that she couldn’t let herself feel anything of the kind for him during their upcoming trip. She was going to be alone with him on the trip for four days. She tossed and turned in her bed the night before they were to leave, struggling to keep bold romantic thoughts from developing in her mind.

Every time she closed her eyes, her mind would lead her to imaginings, such as what it would have been like if she had turned her face toward his and kissed him on the cheek when she was hugging him, wondering if he would have pulled away or turned to kiss her in return.

Such thoughts gave her a long and restless night, and combined with the excitement of the trip, she was left with very little sleep at all. It was dark and cold when she slipped out of her front door with her suitcase in her hand. Her coat was done up around her, and her face was buried in a thick scarf with only her steel blue eyes peeking out above it.

She pulled her car away from the curb, waving at her father, Harold, who was standing in the window with a solitary light shining behind him. He waved back at her as he stood there in his old flannel pajamas, watching her leave with a worried look on his worn and tired face.

He’d knocked on her bedroom door an hour earlier to wake her with a hot breakfast and coffee, but she was already awake. He didn’t say much while she ate, which was his customary manner. He wasn’t a man of many words, but he showed all of his thoughts and feelings through his actions. She knew that he was worried about her; the crease on his forehead between his eyes was deep, and his eyes were downcast much of the morning. She suspected that he hadn’t gotten much sleep, either.

He’d taken most of her bags out to the car and started it for her so it would be warm when she got into it. She glanced over at the passenger seat and saw a cardboard box filled with food and two thermoses of coffee. She smiled and shook her head. Her father loved her more than just about anyone in the world. He did everything he could to take care of her, and though they didn’t have much, she never went without. She was always his first priority, before himself, before anyone.

She reached the college campus and parked her car in the student parking area where Connor had asked her to meet him. They were taking his car and leaving hers there so she’d have a way home when the trip was over. It had been one small way he was trying to keep things strictly business between them.

He was waiting for her when she got there, and it made her heart jump to see him as he stepped out of his car and gave her a wave and a smile.  She felt warmth spread through her and she couldn’t stop the smile that formed on her face. Connor loaded her bags into his car and she put the box of food and coffee in the back seat and they both clicked their seatbelts and looked at one another.

She felt a little nervous as their eyes met. This was it. This was the trip, the first real photojournalism job, and this was four days with Connor. She grinned at him. He reflected her excitement back to her with his own smile and looked her in the eyes.

“Are you ready to go?” He raised one eyebrow.

“Definitely! Let’s do this!” she said as she looked out the front windshield.

He chuckled and drove them out onto the road. “So what’s in the box that you put in the back seat?” he asked a few minutes after they had gotten onto the highway.

She turned to look over her shoulder at it. “Oh, well, that’s some food and coffee that my dad sent for us. He wanted to make sure that we had enough to eat. He worries. He was up this morning making all of that, and breakfast for me, so I know it will be good and it will be fresh.”

He glanced over at her and gave her a surprised smile. “Really? That whole box is food?”

She looked at it. It was a good sized cardboard box, and it was full. “It looks like it. I think we won’t need to stop anywhere to eat for the entire week.” She laughed a little and looked over at him. “There are two thermoses of coffee in there, would you like some?” she asked.

He raised his eyebrows and drew in a breath. “Yeah, that sounds really good. Thank you. I’ll have to send a thank you note to your dad. That was really thoughtful of him to do for us.”

Catalina smiled. “That’s my dad. Always taking care of me and my friends.”

She poured him a hot coffee which he gratefully took, and then settled back into her seat. They’d been driving a short distance with the radio on when she looked out of the side window and smiled.

“Look! It’s a paint pony. I love those. I think they are so pretty with their brown and white splotchy coats,” she said, lifting her camera up and snapping a few photos of the horse in his field as they drove past it.

He laughed to himself and covered his mouth with his forefinger as he shook his head.

“What’s funny?” she asked him curiously, looking over at him and feeling the warmth spread through her once more.

“Oh, those horses always remind me of a prank I pulled when I was in college.” He laughed a little and took a sip of his coffee.

“What happened?” she asked, turning a little in her seat and getting more comfortable as she watched him, ready to hear a story. She curled her legs up beneath her and rested her elbow on her knee and her chin in her hand, her blue gray eyes on him as he spoke.

“Well, there was a guy in our group who was kind of egotistical, and he thought he was a little better than everyone else. I guess I should ask you if you know who Bev Doolittle is. Do you?” He turned to glance at her.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t know who she is. Is she a friend of yours?”

Connor laughed again. “No, but she might be, if she knew this story.  Bev is an artist. She was really popular a while back. She did watercolor paintings of Native Americans and animals and mountains and prairies, and almost all of her paintings were in different shades of browns and white.

“She would create these camouflage pictures of, for example, the side of a mountain, and at first glance, you would see trees and rocks and snow, a creek or waterfall maybe, sometimes a teepee, but when you looked closer, you would see faces of Native Americans and different animals hidden in the pictures; everything from rabbits to wild horses. It was all American frontier scenery. Sometimes the hidden people or animals were obvious, and sometimes you had to study them and look to find everything she had hidden in the picture.”

Catalina laughed a little. “That sounds fun, but more like a brain game or something for 100kids,” she said lightly, her eyes steady on him, enjoying watching him drive and talk.

“Oh, I’m sure kids enjoyed them, but they hit the art scene and interest in them from adults caught on like wildfire. Everyone loved Bev Doolittle. She did other pieces that were in multiple colors, but for a while, the bulk of it was done in browns and white. Anyway, so Scott had been going on and on about her work for weeks and he finally bought a print of one of her pieces. Now, keep in mind, this is just a print, it’s not an actual original.” He laughed and shook his head as the memories came back to him.

“He got the print matted and framed and he hung it up in the condo he’d bought. He put up track lighting on the ceiling so he could shine the lights down on the print, and he wouldn’t let anyone come over until he had the whole thing set up, and then he threw a big party one Friday night so that everyone could come and bask in the glory of his new Bev Doolittle print.” He laughed again, and she could tell that the story was about to get good.

“We all went, because obnoxious as he was, we were all friends. He stood there in front of that print with a wooden pointer that had a rubber tip on it, and he showed us where each of the hidden people or animals were, and a couple of our friends tried to point some out on their own, but he got so upset and shushed them, telling them not to say anything during his presentation, so we all had to stand there and watch him point out a couple of dozen animals, faces, and people in his print.

“We were all so fed up with it by the end of the night. He wouldn’t let anyone touch the glass over the print, he insisted that anyone who looked at it after he got done showing us each thing, only use the wooden pointer that he had.” He bit his lip and chuckled.

“So what happened?” she asked, watching him and knowing that there was more to the story. She loved the personal insight into his life; especially into his college days, which weren’t that far behind him.

“Well, at the time, he was working as a ski instructor, and he had the party on Friday night, and then he had to leave for the weekend to go to the mountains to teach skiing. Luckily, his girlfriend was just as fed up with his Bev Doolittle obsession as the rest of us were, and she was only too glad to give me the keys to his place when I asked for them.

“I promised her it wouldn’t be bad, but I did tell her I was pretty sure I could cure him of his elitist art snob attitude. So I went to his condo on Saturday after he left, and I took the Bev Doolittle print down and wrapped it up in an old blanket and slid it underneath his bed.

“Then I took a Where’s Waldo card and wrote a simple little note in it. ‘Where’s Bev? Love, Waldo’, and I hung the card up on the wall where the print had been, right there under the track lighting.” He was belly laughing at that point, and Catalina loved it. She was laughing right along with him.

“Oh no! That’s a terrible thing to do! What happened?” she asked in wicked delight.

He shrugged a little. “Well, he came back from his skiing weekend on Sunday and found Waldo on the wall and lost it. I’ve never heard him so mad. He was ready to call the police and file a report, he was sure his print had been stolen. He called me up, and several of our other friends, and was just sure he’d been robbed.

“It was so hard to keep a straight face while he was so angry. We tried to tell him that it wasn’t worth calling the police over because it was just a print, not an original, and you’d have thought we’d just shot a puppy. He was so appalled with us. One of our friends started calling it The Precious, after the ring in Tolkien’s stories.

“Anyway, none of us said anything and he finally found the picture, though it took him two days. He didn’t speak to us for a couple of weeks after that, but he also didn’t go on and on about Bev anymore either, so it worked out well.”

She laughed with him and shook her head. “I can’t believe you did something like that!” she scolded him in a joking way.

He shrugged. “Well, I wasn’t always a college professor. There were younger, wilder days, you know.”

She nodded and turned herself back around, stretching her legs out before her. It had gotten warm in the car and she maneuvered to peel her coat off, revealing the form-fitting sweater dress she was wearing. It was a light lavender cashmere that made no secret of the shapes it covered, but at the same time, offered no direct view of her skin, except where the hem laid just above her knees. She knew that it looked good on her, and she had chosen it specifically for the trip, though she felt a little guilty about it, but not enough to leave the sweater dress at home.

Connor glanced over at her as she arched her back, pulling her coat off, and he sucked in his breath quietly as his eyes drifted to the soft material hugging her breasts and her legs.  He turned his head sharply and looked out of the front windshield, gripping the steering wheel tightly with both hands. It was too late though, tightness and heat pulled at his stomach and his groin, and he looked out of the driver’s side window trying to focus on anything that might get her body off of his mind.

He was quiet, trying to concentrate on the road when she turned to look at him, her eyes seeming to pick up a hint of the lavender color she was wearing. “You might have been mischievous back in your college days, but I think you’ve settled down since then,” she said with a smile at him.