A tremor works through me because I’ve never faced off with a woman like her and fear it will destroy me.
14
CATELINE
As I stride from the dining room, I’m one of those old-timey cartoons with steam coming out of my ears. The hair on the back of my neck lifts. From somewhere nearby, a wolf howls—there are plenty of them in the mountains. Likely, it’s probably Connor being immature. He really knows how to rile me up.
With that handsome face.
Those copper-brown eyes.
The lazy grin.
His commanding presence.
I feel like a cat who found a ball of yarn and tied itself up in knots instead of being the stiff-backed, square-shouldered headmistress who untangles problems.
Never has someone twisted me up like this. There is something dangerously attractive about him, but equally obnoxious. I shouldn’t play his games, but I cannot say no to a challenge.
That night, as I settle into my suite, the pile of unanswered mail sits on my table, hollering at me in an authoritative voiceabout my visa. The financial woes here at Blancbourg whisper from the offices below, and yet all I can think about is Connor.
Despite everything else going on, I’m going to focus on what I can control, and that’s not letting the cocky and stubborn football player slip through the cracks because he only wants to play games that he knows he’ll win. Connor will learn the rules of engagement when it comes to etiquette and successfully pass the program.
Then I’ll deal with everything else.
When it comes to him, that’s all I’m thinking about, promise.
Not his smolder or the way his eyes shine with amusement.
Not the attraction that hammered between us in the dining room.
Not how we come at each other in waves of hot and cold, hot and cold, leaving me feeling like I can’t decide between the sauna or snow.
I grab a piece of paper and writeHate List. That sounds too harsh. Feeling bad because I don’t actually hate the guy, I start over and replace it withThe NOT Love List.Using bullet points, I write:
He’s scruffy
Towers over me
Has big hands
Is uncooperative
