he Alpha Men's Secret Club 2(25)

And then. when it became very clear that was what Carlo drove her all this way to see, she went through the emotions a scorned woman went through.

Incredulity.

Denial.

Jealousy.

Anger.

Coldness.

Seething acceptance.

“So what do you think?” Carlo said.

Her throat locked. “What do you think I should think? You brought me here to see this . . . obviously.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

Across the street, Rust lifted a hand and tucked a tendril of hair behind Kate’s ear. The gesture was so loving, so tender that Fiona’s heart hardened and became ice.

He chose this . . . this fat cow over me?

The truth was Kate had always been kind of pretty, even though she was overweight. And now she was positively luscious. Kate had always hidden her body away in shapeless Target kind of clothes – cheap and awful.

But now she was dressed in a simple yellow sundress which showed off her deep cleavage. Fiona could see that she had quite a body. Plump and curvy, like one of those Renoir Impressionist paintings. Fiona could see how a man could be taken in by those curves. And Rust – surprise, surprise – seemed to prefer the plump types, in which case.

Envy, one of the deadliest of Dante’s seven deadly sins, filled her chest and expanded it.

I can get any man. But not Rust O’Brien, it seemed. Because he preferred milk cows like Kate Penney.

She was beyond shocked. She thought it was Rust’s principles which forbade him to have relations with his students. That, and the principles and regulations of the university board about the teaching staff fraternizing with the students.

But apparently Kate Penney had her clutches into the Professor. Clutches which made him defy all rules and throw caution to the wind.

He thought he was safe here, ensconced in his rich little neighborhood ivory tower, far away from the madding campus crowd.

But he wasn’t safe from her.

She would see to that.

They were all the same, she thought sadly. Men. They only wanted one thing from women like Kate and herself.





16



Fiona Montgomery strode into the cluster of offices in the staff’s block. Stacey, the personal assistant, looked up.

“Yes?”

“I want to see Rust O’Brien.”

“The Professor doesn’t see students in his office. You know the rule.”

“Oh yes, I know the rules. I know plenty of rules,” Fiona said significantly. “But does the Professor know them?”

Stacey was confused. Fiona could see it in her eyes.

“I want to see the Professor,” Fiona repeated. “It’s very important.”

Stacey deliberated this, and then decided she wouldn’t want to be the one to handle it. So she picked up the phone and punched in an extension.

“Professor O’Brien? There’s a student out here who says that it’s important that she sees you. Yes, I told her the rules, but she insisted. She says it’s important.”

Pause.

Fiona closed her hand over the mouthpiece and said to Fiona, “What’s your name?”

“Fiona Montgomery.”

Stacey repeated this over the phone. Then she added, “Are you sure? OK.”

She placed down the receiver.

“The Professor says you have three minutes.”

“Oh, I’m willing to bet he’ll take more than three minutes to hear my case,” Fiona said.

She walked through his door and shut it firmly behind her.

Professor O’Brien was seated in front of his laptop. He looked up as she entered. He was as handsome as ever, and his eyebrows were raised inquiringly.

“Yes?” he said.

Fiona went right to the edge of his desk. Then she held up her cellphone and pressed the ‘Play’ button. The video recording of the scene at the café spun.

Rust O’Brien did not say anything.

When the video finished, Fiona said, “So . . . what do you have to say for yourself, Professor?”

“Is this leading to something, Ms Montgomery?” he said politely.

“Isn’t fraternizing with students against the faculty handbook?”

“You tell me. Aren’t you always trying to get me to break the rules?”

A delicious rush coursed through her.

“I could show this video to the board. You could get fired.”

“So why don’t you show it to them?” His vivid green eyes arrested hers. “Did you . . . want something, Ms Montgomery?”

Her pulse fluttered at her throat.

Be brave, she told herself. You have come for exactly what you came for.

Her hands went to the zipper of her dress. She unzipped it from behind and let the dress fall. Underneath, she was wearing nothing.

She said, “Yes. I want something all right.”

His eyes roamed over her gorgeous breasts, her shaven pussy. Could he tell that it had been overused and tainted by so many?