“Alright, how about Gettysburg or Glory?” Jake challenged, planting his palm on the desk in front of her to lean down and hold her gaze. He was entirely too close. And she liked it. But damn him, he made it hard to think. His knowing smirk said he knew it too.
“I said educational, not glorified fiction,” she retorted, feeling more peckish over the uncontrollable effects of his proximity than their verbal sparring.
Jake didn’t argue or correct her, much to Savannah’s surprise. He smiled back in challenge. “Such as…?”
“Science and discovery type films, documentaries, you know, where you actually walk away a better and brighter person,” Savannah countered.
Rubbing the dark blonde scruff of his chin thoughtfully, Jake frowned down at her. “There are more types of discovery than just science, Savannah. I doubt anyone could watch a film such as Cold Mountain and walk away unchanged. The knowledge gained may be more of an emotional intelligence, but no less real in its value.”
The passion in his words did funny things to her insides. Savannah swallowed hard and met his intense gaze. “I disagree.”
Ugh. The words came out much more breathless and ragged than she would have liked.
Jake’s face fell, taking Savannah’s heart sank with it. She’d said the wrong thing. He tried to turn away from her, but she stopped him with a hand on his forearm. The unexpected contact, the innocent feel of skin on skin sent delicious chills racing through her. Under normal circumstances, she would never have touched a teacher, let alone grabbed one like that. But these weren’t normal circumstances. And he wasn’t just her teacher. He was Jake.
Although the touch was anything but sexual, it felt forbidden. With a simple touch, she’d shattered the imaginary glass wall between them. She could feel the mutual heat between them, sizzling hotter than ever. And the temperature was intense enough to burn down the history building.
His electric blue eyes seared into hers as she licked her suddenly dry lips and tried to form words. Her pulse pounded in her ears, its percussion matching the throbbing low within her belly.
“Prove it,” she choked out between ragged breaths. “Make me believe.”
Jake’s full lips twisted into a sly smile. He shifted to stand behind her, his big form so close she could feel the heat of his body through her clothes. He leaned down until his lips almost brushed her ear, so close she could feel the sweet warmth of his breath on the sensitive skin. “Close your eyes.”
Savannah glanced sideways at him with her best ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ scowl.
“Close your eyes,” he growled. Was it her imagination, or did his voice sound even more deliciously husky and deep.
“Fine,” Savannah agreed reluctantly, squeezing her eyes shut in put-upon-capitulation. “But if you try anything funny, I may have trust issues for the rest of my life.”
His husky chuckle tickled the sensitive skin of her neck. “We don’t want that. Clearly, you have enough issues as is.”
“Hey!” she protested, peeking sideways at him through one partially cracked lid.
“Uh, uh,” he tsked by her ear. “Eyes closed.”
Savannah heaved a sigh and crossed her arms over her breasts. “Fine.”
“Imagine being a slave, a piece of property, thought of as little more than an animal. Imagine fighting alongside men who believed exactly that, but allowed you to fight to further their own purposes. Imagine risking your life for a chance at your God-given right to freedom.”
Savannah shook her head. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
It took all her self-control to keep her eyes closed against the silence that followed. But then he spoke and she slipped under the spell he weaved with his words.
“Imagine … your family’s livelihood is suddenly in jeopardy, your entire world about to be stripped from you. All the boys in your neighborhood are eager to fight to protect your way of life, including your brother, who goes rushing off to war. But it’s a war between neighbors, between families. And most of those boys never make it home.”
“You’re giving me way too much credit, Jake,” Savannah admitted softly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Preston, but… well, never mind.”
“Alright,” Jake sighed. “Imagine you’re a mother, worrying day in and day out about whether or not your sons will return from war. They finally return, but as deserters. Patrols made up of your neighbors execute them for abandoning the cause.”
“Now you’re giving mothers way too much credit,” Savannah argued, emotion thick in her throat. Damn him for making her feel, even if not in the way he’d intended. “My mother could care less if I lived or died.”