Mala…
It takes a surprising amount of self-control to walk out of Professor Fitzgerald’s somewhat explosive interrogation class, primarily because I want to question her about what just happened. I want to tell her about Musa’s weird reaction. But no, I’m walking to “detention.”
Oh, no! Not detention with Professor MacTavish!
If I listen carefully, I’ll bet I could hear the wails of Cormac’s fan girls all over campus, hysterical that they didn’t know misbehaving was an option to get closer to him.
“So I’m stuck with you two arseholes all afternoon?”
Cormac doesn’t look happy to see us, arms folded over his tight black t-shirt and the man looks edible.
“Yes Professor MacTavish,” I reply. Doku seethes quietly, and I can practically smell his hatred from across the room.
Well, fuck you too, you treacherous prick,I think, keeping my gaze on Cormac.
“I can’t have you doing the same work, since you look ready to skin each other,” he says. “If there’s any aggression between you this afternoon, I’ll break both your fuckin’ arms. I’m not tolerating it.”
Why does that savage tone of his make me so hot? What is wrong with me?
“You.” He points at me sternly. “Stand there.”
“Mr. Madomadov, come with me. You will be disassembling and cleaning all the handguns in the Armory tonight under the supervision of Ivan.” I peer to my right and spot the guard, not quite hiding his amusement as Doku’s eyes widen.
“But… sir. There are over a hundred of them,” Doku sputters.
“Aye,” Cormac agrees pleasantly, “it will give you plenty of time to think about classroom behavior. Ivan will show you where the cleaning supplies are.”
They disappear into the Armory storage room, but not without a final look of hatred from Doku over his shoulder.
“As for you, Miss Chandler, you just canna stay out of trouble, can you?”
“I was simply following Professor Fitzgerald’s instructions,” I say defensively. “And there’s a lot to talk about because I noticed-”
“And you will,” he interrupted, “we have a meeting set in the Dean’s office tonight. After your disciplinary service.”
My undies are almost instantly drenched and I’m humiliated by my sheer neediness. However, I would like to point out that this beautiful man, towering over me, looking stern and hot as balls istalking about mydisciplinary service?
Oh, god. Cormac’s nostrils are flaring and I know he can tell just how wet I am right now. “Ah. I see.”
His voice is so deep. Damn him and his deep voice and his nipple-stiffening gaze!
“You thought you would get special treatment because you’re fucking the professor? That you deserve to be spoiled?”
Well… I did have some visions of going down on my knees in his office, yanking open his jeans and… I see his arched brow and flush.
“No, sir. I didn’t. I am here for my discipline.” Oh, that sounds worse. “I mean, I’m here because I broke classroom decorum and understand I need to make amends and… uh…”
He grabs a big equipment bag, hefting it over his shoulder. “Come, Miss Chandler. You have work to do.”
The tunnel he takes me to is new, to me at least. It’s cleverly hidden under a trap door in one of the greenhouses.
“Why do I get the feeling that our head gardener knows about this network of tunnels?” I ask. This one hasn’t been maintained for a long time, stones have fallen from the walls, littering the walkway and the lights flicker on and off.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because so many of the entrances or exits are in or near his greenhouses or supply sheds.” I touch the wall, it’s seeping water through the cracks from the missing stones.
“Clever lass,” he gives me a quick kiss. “And you are correct. Nothing happens on this campus that he doesn’t know about. The man’s devoted… twenty years, perhaps, to this place.”
