PROLOGUE
It had only been a few days since the last leaves had fallen from the trees to the ground, signaling the onset of winter, but the weather was still warm with only a hint of the cold to come on the breeze. However, looking out the window on that late fall day, the temperature was the last thing Steven Proctor was thinking about; there were too many other things taking up space in his head. Becoming the dean of the college had become even more of a headache than he’d imagined. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get through the next six months if chaos was going to descend on him every few weeks.
This time it wasn’t the rivalry between the Sigma’s and the Kappas or the demands the clan put on him instead, he had a situation on his hands that he had no idea how to deal with, an underground nightmare that had been keeping him up at night. He hadn’t even wanted this job; now, on top of managing the students and trying to repair the damage the former dean had done to the college’s reputation, he had to navigate an archaeological dig right in the middle of campus.
“Dean Proctor, I’m sorry to bother you, but Marcus Reynolds is out in the reception area,” his assistant Mindy said, poking herhead in the door. “He doesn’t have an appointment but I figured you’d want to see him.”
“Of course,” he said, turning from the window and putting a smile on his face. “I’ve always got time for one of the regents. Did you offer him something to drink?”
“It’s not my first day on the job,” Mindy said, rolling her eyes at him. “I’ll show him in, then I’ll get you both some coffee, you look like you could use it.”
“Thanks, I am a little tired, it’s been a long week,” he said, walking over to his desk and plopping down into the chair. “Just give me a few seconds to get my thoughts together.”
Marcus took the chair across from him when Mindy showed him in a few minutes later, then leaned back and made himself comfortable. “I always did like this office,” he finally said, throwing one leg over the other. “You’re lucky to have it.”
“Are you trying to tell me something?” he asked. “Because I’d rather you just made it clear instead of playing word games.”
“Word games?” Marcus asked, then shook his head. “I was just making conversation, Proctor. Relax, the clan is actually pleased with the outcome of last week. Getting Gordon to denounce his ties to the Marbury’s was a huge win; now he belongs only to us. I assume all the mess with the robberies and the beating has been cleared up.”
“As best as I can tell, all the stolen items were recovered; they were left on the front steps of the library with Taylor’s jacket,” he explained. “Taylor had an alibi for the time of the beating, and the guard never saw his attacker’s face, so there wasn’t much more the police could do. I’m fairly certain it was Sebastian, but there’s no way I can prove it. He’s going to get away with it, which makes me a little crazy because I know he’s just going to cause trouble again.”
“From what I heard, his grandfather isn’t very happy with him after what he did at the clan meeting. It’s beginning tolook like they’re going to lose their power for the first time in generations,” Marcus said. “The alpha position is up for grabs, and there’s going to be a fight for sure. That should keep them busy for a while—give our boys a break.”
“I wouldn’t mind a break myself, especially with the mess over at the stadium,” he said, turning in his chair to look out the window at the damaged structure. “We had everything in place—building plans, crews, even the funding to rebuild the stadium; now we’re going to have to start over. We can’t even use that land; we have to find a completely new place to build. I’ve got months of planning ahead of me, and that doesn’t include supervising the dig. This wasn’t what I signed up for, Marcus; I just want to teach.”
“Steven, you’re doing a great job, I know you can handle this,” Marcus said, getting to his feet. “When this is all over, I’ll make sure the clan rewards you for all your hard work.”
Marcus was gone before he could tell him that there wasn’t enough money in the world to make up for the headaches being dean of the school caused, but he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. He was stuck seeing the job through; it was what the elder’s council expected, and he had little choice but to comply. The clan never took no for an answer.
CHAPTER 1
***COOPER***
Cooper took the steps up to the front doors of the administration building two at a time, a sense of excitement building inside of him, the smile on his face the same one he’d been wearing when he learned he’d won the competition. Now he was about to have his first meeting with the head architect, the man who would make his design come to life and hopefully make his dreams come true. Striding through the lobby, he nodded at a few people he knew, telling himself to calm down, afraid that if he didn’t, he’d make a fool of himself.
He skipped the elevator and took the stairs, hoping to burn off a little more energy, and arrived on the third floor slightly winded. After pausing for a second to catch his breath, he headed down the hallway, the tube that held his final version of the design for the repair on the stadium clutched tightly in his hand. The door to the office was open, and he took that as a good sign and stepped inside, then found himself suddenly nervous when it sank in that he was really going to help fix the stadium.
“Hi, there,” the young woman behind the desk said, a big smile on her face. “How can I help you?”
“I’m here to meet with Mr. Baker,” he said, smiling back at her. “I’m Cooper McFarland, my designs won the student design competition.”
When the woman just stared at him a confused look on her face, he tried again. “You know, the designs to fix the stadium after it was halfway destroyed by that bomb,” he said, then stepped back from the desk when she still didn’t say anything. “Maybe I’m in the wrong office. Is this 303?”
The woman nodded. “We moved in yesterday,” she said. “I think maybe that’s the confusion.”
“I don’t understand, I just talked to Mr. Baker the day before yesterday,” he said. “I know he told me to meet him here; I wrote it down.”
“Do you have his number?” the woman asked. “Maybe you could call him.”
He shook his head, his perfect day suddenly vanishing in a cloud of confusion. “He was supposed to be here, his entire staff was supposed to be here,” he said. “I was going to be one of them, I don’t understand, someone should have called me.”
The sound of heels clicking on the tile out in the hallway caught his attention, and he turned to the door, hoping it would be someone who could explain what was going on. A second later, a pretty blonde woman strode into the office, a pair of black rimmed glasses perched on her nose, her head buried in a stack of papers. Mumbling under her breath and shaking her head, she didn’t see him and crashed into him before he could move, forcing him to grab her to keep them both from falling.
The stack of papers went crashing to the floor, and the woman reached out and wrapped her arms around him as she teetered on her high heels, a squeal of surprise coming out of her mouth. For a moment he thought they were going to go tumbling to the floor, but he finally managed to get his balance, then slowly became aware of a strange tingling deep in the pit of hisstomach. He looked down at the woman in his arms, wondering if she felt it too, and was surprised to find her staring up at him, her blue eyes filled with what looked like attraction and a touch of fear.
“Oh dear,” she said, untangling herself from his arms and backing away from him. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“No harm done,” he said, unable to stop staring at the woman. “I don’t suppose you work for Mr. Baker?”
