He lowered his voice and asked, “Why is it you’re the only one in this department who doesn’t seem to appreciate that I’m here?” He paused as he moved closer to her. “I love it when your eyes snap at me like that,” he crooned. “And your lips beg to be kissed.”
She was shocked into silence as he moved closer, his head descending toward her.
“Mom!” Cecelia’s voice at his open office door stopped Evan’s forward movement. “You didn’t see our last goal.”
Amanda took advantage of Cecelia’s distraction and ducked under Evan’s arm and walked out of his office. “I’m sorry, Cece. Professor Workman wanted to talk to me and there was too much noise on the field. Did your team win the game?”
“No, but she assisted on one goal, and kicked in the last one,” Marcus answered for her, smiling at Cecelia as he stood next to Evan’s door.
The three of them moved back toward Amanda’s office, leaving Evan where he was.
“Can we go home now?” Cecelia frowned at Marcus and turned to glare at the very tall man when he sidled into Amanda’s office.
“Yes, of course. Just let me get my things.”She smiled at Marcus. “Thanks for watching the rest of the game. I should have stayed.”
Cecelia sat down in the smaller chair, her back to both men.
“Cecelia, aren’t you going to say hi to me?” Marcus asked quietly.
She refused to look back at him. Instead, under her breath, she said, “Hi.”
Evan moved past Marcus and placed his large hands on Cecelia’s shoulders, pressing her into the chair. “Well, how about me, little lady? How about a hi for me, too?” Her daughter appeared to freeze, then suck in her breath, her eyes widening as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp.
Amanda’s heart skipped a beat and she shoved Evan’s hands off Cecelia’s shoulders. “Do not do that—ever!” Her voice was cold. “Come on, Cece, we’re going home.”
Cecelia slid out of the chair and put her hand in Amanda’s as they walked out of the building.
The next morning, between classes, Amanda approached Evan. “I need to speak with you.”
“Sure thing. My office or yours?”
“Mine.” She did not return his smile.
He followed her down the hall.
Amanda turned to face him. “Please shut the door.”
“Great! You want to get to know me better.” He reached for her. “I was hoping you’d want us to get friendlier.”
“No!” She pulled her hand away. “And stop coming on to me. I don’t appreciate it,” her voice icy. “I don’t want you to touch my daughter like you did yesterday … ever. Are you clear about that?”
“Hey, I was just trying to be friendly.”
“Well, she didn’t like it, and neither did I. Don’t do it again.”
He took a step back. “Mind telling me why?”
“She had a bad experience with a man and … she doesn’t respond well to such overtures. If she’s in my office, whether I’m here or not, leave her alone. Don’t talk to her and do not touch her—ever. I mean it.”
“Okay, okay. Is that it?”
“One more thing. I also meant it when I told you to stop hitting on me. I’m not interested.”
“Too bad,” he said, his voice gravelly, his appraisal of her so overt she couldn’t avoid noticing. “I was hoping—well, never mind.” Then his tone turned accusatory. “Someone said you were seeing that journalism guy, the one you did the writing workshop with.”
She pressed her lips together. Don’t answer him. Don’t give him ammunition.
His eyes narrowed as he continued to stare at her. “The way I see it, the two of you probably took advantage of your time in the woods to jump each other’s bones—away from prying eyes and wagging tongues. You know, no regular students and other faculty. And no kid around, either. I sure would have, but maybe he doesn’t have the balls—”
“How dare you—” She did not care that he might guess the truth from the fury in her eyes and the heat in her cheeks.
“I guessed right, didn’t I?” He gave a short laugh. “I’m betting you’ll get tired of him soon enough. Journalism types never really know how to satisfy women—not a woman like you, Amanda.Tricia told me all about you and that Dylan guy.When you do—get tired of him, I mean—let me know. You and I share a background he doesn’t have. You and I—”
“You and I share nothing, Evan—except graduate work at Iowa,” she interrupted. “And just so we’re clear.My personal life is just that—personal. On campus, I am Professor Gardner. Period. I don’t want to hear that you are talking about me—or anyone I might be seeing or not seeing—on or off campus.” She turned her back on him and opened the door for him to leave.