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“I did not. I gave you every warning that you didn’t know what you were getting into when you decided to take on Cora. She’s the stubbornnest woman I’ve ever known. I’d be surprised if you got past go with her.”
“Is that why you practically blackmailed her into accepting my offer?”
Jerry bristled. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Rafael scowled at him. “Playing the tenure card? That was a cheap shot.”
“Cora can take care of herself, believe me.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
Jerry nodded. “She’d like to be department head.”
And she’d be good at it, Rafael thought. No wonder Jerry seemed intent on keeping her in her place. At his age, he was nearing the end of his academic career. Bright new talent scared him. A woman like Cora Prescott probably left him cowering in the corner. Rafael carefully considered all that Cora had said to him. “She’s brilliant.”
“She’s extremely respected in her field,” Jerry acknowledged.
Praise, Rafael realized, but not unqualified. His opinion of Jerry Heath slipped another notch. “So why didn’t you tell me about the whole package?”
Jerry swiveled back and forth in the worn leather chair. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Rafael gave him a knowing look. “Like hell.”
“I don’t.”
“Then you’re older than I thought,” Rafael said.
Jerry stared at him another few seconds, then understanding dawned in his eyes. He let out a low whistle. “My God. You can’t mean you’re thinking of seducing Cora Prescott.”
Rafael lifted his eyebrows. “Why would you think that?”
“Because I’ve known you a long time. And I know that look you get. It’s the same one you get when you think you’re on the cusp of an important find.”
“You’re being melodramatic.”
“Maybe. Still, you’ll have to take my word on this. She’s not that type of woman. She’s not your type of woman.” Jerry shook his head. “Believe me, other men have tried and failed, and it won’t work. She’s cold as an iceberg. I’m not entirely certain she’s interested in men, if you know what I mean.”
Rafael let that pass without comment. He made a practice of not wasting his time on fools.
Jerry reached for the phone on Cora’s desk. “Look, why don’t you get settled into your hotel, then let Patty and me take you to dinner.” He punched a few numbers. “We can talk about old times.”
Rafael thought it over. As much as he loathed the idea of an extended stay in Jerry’s presence, he genuinely liked Patty Heath. A widely published author and lecturer on ancient Greek culture, Patty could not only provide interesting dinner conversation, but also, he hoped, better insight into Cora Prescott. “I’d love to,” he answered.
“Great. Patty’s been dying to pick your brain about the Argo project.” Jerry finished dialing. While he talked to his wife, Rafael mentally recalculated his strategy for gaining Cora Prescott’s cooperation.
Even Jerry couldn’t be naive enough to think that the aloof mask she wore reflected her true nature. Granted, she had the look down to a science. Tortoiseshell glasses. Hair in a neat French braid. Intelligent eyes set in a classic oval face. She even wore the costume of the conservative academic. Her tailored blouse and simple straight skirt were a timeless style. Most professors wore jeans and T-shirts to class. Cora could have stepped right out of another age.
But that was where it ended. There was absolutely nothing about the woman that didn’t scream of undiscovered passion. Or that didn’t beg for masculine attention. The less observant of the male species, he supposed, might miss it, but what Rafael saw was an underlying edge of raw sensuality that had him struggling for balance.
Some men, he knew, looked at a woman and saw the sum total of her parts. If the balance sheet didn’t tip in their favor, they never bothered to look deeper. He, however, had found that such a superficial examination was generally misleading. Cora Prescott wasn’t classically beautiful or even modernly sexy. She’d never make the cover of a men’s magazine, but then, he’d always preferred the subtle to the blatant.
In her, he saw something sensual and alluring. A huge part of the appeal, he knew, was her intelligence. He liked that in a lover. But the physical package complemented her mental assets. Perhaps it was the curve of her ear or the way stray tendrils of soft brown hair caressed the nape of her neck. It could be the long sweep of her arm from the juncture of her collarbone to the tips of her slender fingers. The way she moved enticed him. Her waist flared into softly rounded hips. Long shapely legs melded into well-turned ankles. The tailored cut of her blouse had done little to disguise the curves of her breasts. Her clothes floated on her skin like the whisper of a summer breeze.
He had a feeling that when he touched her, it would be like coaxing music from a fine instrument. Cora had the look of a woman who knew her worth. She valued herself too much to waste her energy on men who couldn’t appreciate the rare nature of her character and appeal. Like Sleeping Beauty, he mused, she had allowed her passion to remain dormant, rather than squander it on the undeserving.
That idea had him instantly and potently aroused. The realization hit him like a blow to the head. He wanted Cora Prescott, and he couldn’t remember having this strong thirst for possession for anything other than a sunken ship. But Cora was no relic, and his first encounter with her had sent exhilaration pumping through him. It sent his lingering exhaustion from jet lag and the post-Argo whirlwind tumbling off into orbit. In its place was a growing hunger for discovery.
He took several long moments to revel in the sensation. With del Flores’s ship finally within reach and the tantalizing prospect of unraveling all of Cora Prescott’s mysteries, he felt the passion stirring in him, awakening from what had seemed, recently, like an endless slumber.
Slowly his gaze shifted to Jerry, who was just completing his conversation with his wife. Jerry seemed to have no idea just what the world was missing in its ignorant dismissal of Cora Prescott’s appeal. An idiot, Rafael mused again. More’s the pity.
“HELLO.” AT TEN MINUTES to seven the following evening, in the midst of a torrential downpour, Rafael leaned casually against the frame of the front door to Cora’s house while he looked down at a wide-eyed Liza. He’d gleaned what he could from Patty Heath last night, then spent the better part of his day replotting his strategy.
Cora Prescott was turning out to be every bit as elusive and mysterious as he’d suspected.
She was well liked by her colleagues, he’d learned, but kept largely to herself. She seemed to have few close friends in the community, yet everyone spoke of her warmly. People had conflicting ideas about her reticence, but on one point, they all seemed to agree: though they thought she’d been incredibly generous to take in her three nieces for the summer—their mother, rumor had it, was enjoying an extended fling in the Florida Keys with a married real-estate developer—Cora was completely overwhelmed by the responsibility.
Rafael couldn’t remember a time when he’d had better news. She had something he needed, and now he had something she needed. With a satisfied smile, he grinned at a bewildered-looking Liza. “Is your aunt home?” he asked.
Becky Painter, who was the ace up his sleeve this evening, peered around his shoulder to greet Liza. “Hey, there, Liza.”
Liza smiled at her. “Hi, Becky.” Her gaze swung to Rafael’s. “I know you. You were in Aunt Cora’s office.”
“Yes, I was.”
“Know how come I know?”
“How come?”
She pointed to his eye patch. “You got that. What is it?”
“It’s a bandage for my eye.”
She tipped her head to one side. “You got a sore?”
“Yes. I have a sore.”
“Oh. Are you a pirate? I have a book about pirates.”
He tapped the patch with his index finger. “Does it have pictures of men wearing these?”
“Yes. How come it’s black?”
“Eye bandages only come in black.” That made Liza frown, as if the thought of black bandages was somehow a grave misfortune. Rafael winked at her. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
Liza had opened the door to his knock. Her hot-pink pajamas and the ratty-looking stuffed rabbit she clutched told him that Cora was in the middle of the bedtime routine. And if the noise coming from upstairs was any indication, she wasn’t having an easy time of it.
In answer to his question, Liza wagged her head from side to side. “I hate bed. I don’t like sleeping.”
“Really?”
“No. It’s boring.”
Becky laughed. “Bedtime in this house is a nightmare, Cora told me. She starts at around eight and never gets them down before ten.”
“Is that so?” Rafael bent so his face was at eye level with Liza’s. “Do you want to know a secret, sweet pea?”
She clutched the worn brown rabbit to her chest and leaned forward. “What?”
“I don’t like to go to sleep, either.”
Liza held his gaze a few seconds, then stepped aside to let him in. He’d cleared the first hurdle. Liza, at least, seemed to trust him. “I came to see your aunt,” he told her.
“She’s upstairs. Kaitlin and Molly don’t wanna sleep.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“How come you’re all wet?” Liza asked as a sleepy-looking Melody ambled in from the living room. The dog wagged her tail as she watched Rafael, then flumped down at his feet. Mentally he tabulated another point in his column. He had the kids. He had the dog. The aunt was sure to follow.
Becky was shaking out her umbrella. “It’s raining outside. Didn’t you hear the thunder, Liza?”
“Yeah. That’s why I came down here.”
Somewhere in that four-year-old mind, there was logic in that statement. “Does your aunt know where you are?”
Liza shrugged. He took that as a no. He was about to ask for the name of her rabbit when he heard Cora’s voice from the top of the stairs.
“Liza?”
Liza moved quickly to hide behind Rafael’s leg. Cora descended a couple of stairs. “Liza?” She walked down three more, then stopped at the sight of him. “It’s you.” Then she looked at Becky. “And you. What are you doing here?”
“I met with Jerry and Henry Willers yesterday,” he said carefully. Becky remained silent. “There are some things you and I should discuss.” Melody’s tail thumped the foyer carpet.
Cora’s eyebrows lifted. “I thought we were done.”
“Hardly,” he muttered. “Things are getting…complicated.”
She completed her trip down the stairs. When she reached the foyer, she stepped from the shadows into the light. Rafael got his first good look at her that evening. She wore faded jeans that fit far too well and a well-worn college sweatshirt. Her hair was secured in a ponytail. Heat radiated from her. He could feel the lingering raindrops on his skin beginning to sizzle. He inhaled a great breath of her scent. Baby powder and soap, it was far more seductive than any expensive perfume. “The only thing that’s complicated,” she said with a distinct snap in her eyes, “is that you won’t take no for an answer.”
That snap charmed him. “It’s what makes me good at my job.”
“And obnoxious,” she shot back.
He responded with a low whistle. “Do you bite, too?”
That made Becky laugh. “Don’t let her fool you, Dr. Adriano. Cora’s as even-tempered as they come.”
“So I’m the only one who gets under her skin.” He gave Cora an appraising look. “I wonder why?”
Her color heightened. “I have an aversion to pushy men.”
“And I have an affinity for mouthy women.”
Becky stepped between them, laughing. “Okay, okay. This is going nowhere.”
Liza clutched her stuffed rabbit closer and announced, “When Molly and Kaitlin and me fight like that, Mama tells us to separate.”
Rafael winked at her. Cora muttered, “I think that’s an excellent idea.”
“You don’t understand, Cora,” Becky continued. “You aren’t even going to believe what Jerry’s done. At least Dr. Adriano had the decency to tell you about it first.”
Cora frowned. “What’s Jerry got to do with this?”
Becky shook her head. “I think we should sit down.”
Cora resisted. “Don’t you have final exams in a couple of weeks, Becky? Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”
Becky shrugged. “I needed a break. This is more interesting, anyway.”
Cora glared at Adriano. “Did you talk her into this?”
“She volunteered.”
“I’m sure.”
“I did.” Becky nodded vigorously. “I had to come, Cora. Jerry Heath and Henry Willers called a press conference for Monday morning.”
“That soon?” Cora asked.
Becky frowned. “It gets worse. Jerry was so overcome that Dr. Adriano came early, he moved it up to tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” Cora pointed out. “No one’s attending a press conference on a Sunday.” Becky glanced at Rafael. He had the grace to look uncomfortable. “They will if I’m there,” he pointed out. Becky continued, “Jerry and Willers plan to announce that you’ve agreed to let Dr. Adriano participate in the Conrad study.”
Cora’s eyes widened, then she shot an accusing glance at Rafael. “You took the project from me,” she accused.
He silently damned Jerry Heath to hell. “It’s not what you think.”
Becky came to his defense. “I wouldn’t have known at all if Dr. Adriano hadn’t told me. They’re planning to spring it on you tomorrow.”
A rumble of thunder sounded overhead, and Liza yelped, then clutched Rafael’s leg. He leaned down to pick her up. “Worried?” he asked.
“It’s scary,” Liza whispered.
“My mother used to say the noise was the sound of angels bowling in heaven.”
Another loud rumble followed. Liza buried her face against his neck. “Then why are they so loud?”
“Liza,” Cora said. “You’re supposed to be upstairs in bed.”
