“Really? That’s not what your nipples are saying. Better check your control, girlfriend.”
Horrified, Summer glanced down to see the outline of her very obviously aroused nipples pressing against her cream-colored blouse. Hastily she crossed her arms over her chest and muttered, “It’s just cold in here,” as she hurried into the gallery with Jenny’s knowing laughter following her.
Four
“All right! Move away from the nude, and no one gets hurt!” Jenny snapped, and the group of gawking teenage boys shuffled reluctantly away from the full frontal nudity of George Wilson’s The Spring Witch.
Colin waited until the three of them were alone before saying, “Wilson was a big fan of Dante and William Blake, so he liked the poetic and romantic subject here.”
Summer blinked in surprise up at Colin. The tall vampire actually seemed to know something about art.
“Huh!” Jenny snorted a little testily. “I don’t see anything terribly romantic about witches. Sexy—maybe. Wanton—for sure. Romantic? Nah.”
“The subject isn’t a witch as we know them in Mysteria,” Colin explained, his eyes on the nude painting. “It’s actually Persephone as she emerges from the underworld. See the pomegranate in her hand?”
“Oh, well, that makes more sense. Goddesses are definitely romantic,” Jenny admitted.
“What do you think of her, Miss Smith?”
Colin’s question, as well as the intense gaze he shifted from the painting to her, caught Summer unaware, and she automatically said what was foremost in her mind. “I think I like her body better than most of the other women in the exhibit. They look too manly.”
Colin’s brows lifted. “I agree with you, Miss Smith. The Pre-Raphaelites tended to give their female models masculine characteristics. I like my woman to look like a woman, and not like a man in drag.”
“As if that matters to the germs and hormones,” Jenny said, eyes lighting on a group of laughing, jostling teenage boys clustered around the huge, colorful, and seminude painting of Toilette of a Roman Lady. “Excuse me for a sec. I’m going to kick some boy butt.”
As she hurried toward the students, Summer called, “Herd them back into the main gallery in front of the Romeo and Juliet painting. I’m going to give them their topic for the essay assignment.”
Jenny’s teeth flashed white as she grinned over her shoulder. “Oh, good. They’ll hate that.”
And, just like that, Summer and Colin were left completely alone for the first time.
She didn’t have to look up at him to know his eyes were on her. Again. She could feel his gaze—against her skin, inside her blood. It heated her body, arousing her nipples and making her inner thighs tingle, and her woman’s core became hot and wet and needy . . . needy for his touch, which wouldn’t be sweet and gentle and loving, as she’d fantasized about Ken’s touch being. Colin’s touch would be like his body: hard and strong and sexy. No, Colin was nothing like Ken.
“What are you thinking about?”
His deep voice came from very close to her. When had he stepped into her personal space? She looked up at him. Those eyes! They’re so intense—so sexy. He was close enough that his scent came to her, and it, too, was a surprise. Instead of smelling like the grave or worse, like a carnivorous, bloodsucking monster, Colin smelled as sexy as he looked. His scent was man mixed with something spicy, like cinnamon or even more exotic, like cloves and darkness and cool nighttime breezes sifting over love-dampened skin.
She stared at him and breathed the unique scent that was Colin distilled by his own skin. Nothing like Ken, who smells like lemons and laughter, and who I’m supposed to be having a dream date with tonight! “My date tonight,” Summer finally managed to answer.
Colin’s dark eyes narrowed dangerously. “You shouldn’t lie to me. You know vampires can smell lies.”
Summer took a step back and put up her chin. She was damn sure not going to let this overbearing, way-too-masculine creature intimidate her, no matter how yummy he smelled. She was a college graduate and a professional teacher!
“Then you should sniff again. I was definitely thinking about Ken,” Summer said with finality.
“Ken?” his dark-chocolate voice was heavy with amusement. “As in Barbie’s boyfriend?”
“No. Ken, as in my boyfriend.”
With a movement too fast to follow with her eyes, Colin grabbed both of her arms and lifted her so that he only had to bend a little to fit his face into the soft slope of her neck. He inhaled deeply and then let his breath out slowly, caressingly, so that it brushed against her sensitive skin and caused her to shiver.
“You may have been thinking, briefly, of him. But you do not have a boyfriend.”
“What makes you say that?” she asked breathlessly.
“If you belonged to a man, I could scent him on you, and you smell only of yourself: sunlight and honey and woman.”
He let her go as abruptly as he had grabbed her, and Summer stumbled back a couple of steps.
Her head was spinning, and her breath was coming short and hard. It was like he’d filled her mind with the white noise of the inside of seashells. All she could think to say was, “I smell like sunlight and honey?”
“Yes.” Colin ran one cool finger down her heated cheek and the side of her neck. “Warm honey on a golden summer’s day. You draw me to you like a field of lavender draws bees. Will you let me taste you?”
“Hey, Miss Smith! Miss Sullivan says we’re all waiting for you, and we need you now. Uh, you better come, ’cause she seems kinda pissed.”
Colin’s hand fell away from her face, and Summer turned to see the little blond cheerleader standing in the doorway to the main gallery.
“Y-yes. Okay. I’m coming. Now.” Without looking back at Colin, Summer hurried from the room.
She could feel him following her. She thought it was like having a dangerous but darkly beautiful panther stalking her. He wanted to taste her! Summer shivered and crossed her arms concealingly over her breasts. Again.
“There you are, Miss Smith. The students are ready for their essay assignment.” Jenny told her, then her eyes snapped over the group of milling students. “I said get your notebooks out. Now.”
Book bags exploded as kids hurried to do her bidding. Summer could only watch in awe. How the hell did Jenny do that? She hadn’t even raised her voice. Soon the entire room (which included one dark and brooding vampire) was looking expectantly up at her.
Summer cleared her throat. “The topic of your essay is this: a Pre-Raphaelite art critic wrote that this painting of Romeo and Juliet by Ford Madox Brown was ‘splendid in expression and fullness of tone, and the whole picture is gorgeous in color.’ I want you to be a modern art critic and tell me in your essay what you learned about Romeo and Juliet from Mr. Brown’s painting.” Summer paused, narrowed her eyes, and did what she hoped was a believable impression of Jenny’s firmness, then added, “No, that does not mean that I want you to tell me Romeo is wearing a gay-looking red outfit, and Juliet’s boobs are showing. What I want you to tell me is what this painting says about them as a couple. Questions?” She didn’t give them time to ask any but hurried on. “Good. I’ll let you have about fifteen more minutes here in front of the painting to take notes and start getting your ideas on paper.”
A hand went up. It was one of Jenny’s students, so she said, “What is it, Mr. Purdom?”
“Does your class have to write the essay, too?”
“Yes. I suggest you get busy,” Jenny said smoothly.
There were a few muffled groans, but most of the kids settled down to studying the painting and taking notes.
“I’m going to go tell Moxie to bring the bus around. Do you think you can handle it by yourself?” Jenny’s tone made the pronoun semi-suggestive. The sultry glance she sent Colin made it fully suggestive.