Jodie eyed him warily. “Because she thinks you’re stupid.”
“The isotope’s three protons and seven neutrons are unbound.” Turning her back on the eight students in her graduate seminar, six males and two females, Jane continued sketching on the board. “Take one neutron away from Li-11, and a second one will also leave. Li-9 stays behind, binding it and the two remaining neutrons as a three-body system.”
She was so intent on explaining the complexity of neutron halos in isotopes of lithium that she paid no attention to the slight disturbance that was arising behind her.
“Li-11 is called a Borromean nucleus along with . . .” A chair squeaked. She heard whispers. “Along with . . .” Papers rustled. More whispers. Puzzled, she turned to investigate the source of the disturbance.
And saw Cal Bonner leaning against the sidewall, his arms crossed, fingers tucked under his armpits.
All the blood rushed from her head, and for the first time in her life, she thought she was going to faint. How had he found her? What was he doing here? For a moment she let herself pretend that he wouldn’t recognize her in her professional attire. She wore a conservative double-breasted woolen dress, and her hair was pulled into the French twist that kept it out of her way when she worked. She had her glasses on—he’d never seen her with glasses. But he wasn’t fooled for a moment.
A thick silence fell over the room. Everyone in her class seemed to recognize him, but he paid no attention to their reactions. He only looked at her.
She had never been the target of such undisguised hatred. His eyes were narrowed and deadly, hard lines bracketed his mouth, and, as she watched him, she felt as unbound as the nucleus of the isotope she had just been describing.
With so many curious eyes looking on, she had to pull herself together. There were ten minutes left in the class. She needed to get him out of here so she could finish. “Would you wait for me in my office until I’m done here, Mr. Bonner? It’s just down the hall.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” For the first time he turned to stare at her eight graduate students. “Class is over. Get out.”
The students scrambled to their feet, closing their notebooks and grabbing their coats. Since she couldn’t engage in a public battle with him, she addressed them as calmly as possible. “I was nearly done anyway. We’ll pick up here on Wednesday.”
They filed out of the room within seconds, darting curious glances at the two of them as they left. Cal uncoiled from the wall, shut the door, and punched the lock.
“Open the door,” she said immediately, filled with alarm at being confined with him in this small windowless classroom. “We can talk in my office.”
He resumed his earlier position. Leaning against the doorjamb, he crossed his arms and tucked the fingers in his armpits. His forearms were tan and muscular. A strong blue vein throbbed there.
“I’d like to take you apart.”
She sucked in air as panic raced through her. His posture suddenly seemed full of significance, the sign of a man forcibly restraining himself.
“Nothing to say? What’s the matter, Dr. Darlington? You sure were full of words when we met before.”
She fought to calm herself, hoping against hope that he had simply discovered she wasn’t who she’d said she was and had come here to redeem his warrior’s pride. Please don’t let it be anything else, she prayed.
He walked slowly toward her, and she took an involuntary step backward.
“How are you living with yourself?” he sneered. “Or is that genius brain of yours so big it’s taken over the place where your heart should be? Did you think I wouldn’t care, or were you just counting on me never finding out?”
“Finding out?” Her voice was barely a whisper. She bumped into the chalkboard as dread slithered down her spine.
“I care, Professor. I care a lot.”
Her skin felt hot and clammy at the same time. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bull. You’re a liar.”
He purposefully advanced on her, and she felt as if she were trying to swallow great lumps of cotton. “I want you to leave.”
“I’ll just bet you do.” He drew so close his arm brushed her own. She caught the scent of soap, wool, and fury. “I’m talking about the baby, Professor. The fact that you set out to get yourself pregnant with my kid. And I hear you hit the jackpot.”
All the strength left her body. She sagged against the chalk tray. Not this. Please, God, not this. Her body felt as if it were closing down, and she wanted to curl in on herself.
He didn’t say anything; he simply waited.