Page 37 of Reckless Desire

My days would be better if they started here. It’s beautiful. Maybe money can sometimes buy happiness after all.

“I hope I didn’t traumatize you last night.” I take a sip of the coffee he handed me.

He chuckles. “Only a little.”

“In my defense, I had a really stressful day, and I didn’t expect my release session with London to be intercepted by anyone.”

“I hope I’m more than anyone.” His voice infiltrates my pores with a soft feeling. I swallow without taking a sip. The energy zaps between us as Hunter steps closer.

“Thank you for taking care of me. I’ll kill London for letting you do that, but that’s beside the point. I’m mortified by this. It’s so unprofessional.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that about a hundred times last night.” He smirks and I groan, dropping my head. I’ll be staring at the floor from now on in his presence. It’s the only way to prevent death by humiliation.

“Don’t worry. I’m glad I could help.” He smells so good. “You were delightful company once you stopped glaring at me.”

He is too close. How did he get this close? Taking the cup from my hands, he puts it on the counter behind me, leaving his hand there. He moves the other arm to the other side of me, bracketing me between his huge muscles as he leans forward.

Our eyes lock and I’m struck with a sudden lack of oxygen, a wave of heat and an indecent dose of desire. Hunter looks at my mouth and I can’t help but lick my bottom lip.

His warmth mixed with his distinct masculine scent wraps around me like a cashmere blanket. I want to lean into that sensation, but this is so wrong.

He is who he is. He said he was glad I didn’t call. He is who he is. I’m his daughter’s teacher. He is who he is.

My frantic thoughts abruptly halt when he lifts his hand and outlines my bottom lip with his thumb. He hasn’t even lowered his mouth to mine and the experience is already as strong as his kiss three years ago.

I’m helpless and wound up. His essence spreads through my veins, leaving lingering warmth. It’s an aphrodisiac. No wonder I’m defenseless. His gray eyes peer through me with an intensity scorching and chilling at the same time.

Confusion and yearning tug at the edges of my mind. I want him to kiss me. I don’t want the consequences. I want a chance with him. But then I don’t do commitments, and Hunter is not interested anyway.

“I’m ready,” Caro calls from the hallway before she bursts in. Hunter leaps away and smoothly scoops her up into his arms. He twirls her while she giggles and protests half-heartedly.

He’s doing it as much for my benefit—to let me recover—as for theirs. I push aside the conflicting emotions and admire the bonding moment between father and daughter. I can have a lot of unresolved feelings about the man, but seeing him like this spreads like warm honey across my chest.

“Let’s go then, ladies.” Hunter puts Caro down and bows to both of us.

His mom watches me with an unimpressed expression as we leave the apartment. Walk of shame, after all. And I deserve it.

Caro practically bounces in front of us. We stop at a coffee shop and I get breakfast for everyone. We carry our brown bags, but Caro immediately attacks hers, happily skipping along the way.

“Yesterday she dragged her feet and wanted to return home several times, and look at her now,” Hunter says.

“First day of school is difficult for many kids.” I try to sound normal, but nothing about this morning is normal. Yet walking with these two feels so natural, like we’ve done this trip many times before. It’s disconcerting.

“Yes.” He sounds deflated, sad.

Shit. There wasn’t much in Caroline’s file and I just assumed she transferred for logistical reasons, because the family moved or perhaps academic reasons, to be in a better school. Now I’m not so sure. I remember her wide eyes and the shyness that bordered on fear yesterday.

“Was there a particular reason she changed schools?”

Hunter sighs and scratches his nape. “I failed her.”

The statement is charged with so much pain, I stop. He looks upward, gathering strength.

“We’re going to be late,” Caro calls from an intersection.

“Do you want to talk about it after school today?” My plan to avoid Hunter is reversing faster than I can navigate.

I don’t want to see him after school. I don’t want to get into a situation like this morning. Or last night—I groan inwardly at the thought. But if there is something I need to know about Caroline, to help her transition, I have to talk to him.

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