A genteel nod was the only acknowledgement, and as the headmaster started to retreat into his office, David spoke. “Excuse me, sir? I believe an acquaintance of mine is a teacher here, and I wanted to say hello.” The old man turned and gazed at him over the top of his glasses. “Kate Nicholls?” he said. “Where would I find her?”

The headmaster considered him, and for a minute David wondered if he would get his answer.

He was more than relieved when the craggy voice said, “Room fifteen, across from the library.”

“Thank you. Thank you very much.” Stepping out of the office, David cleared his head just like he did before he stepped on the ice. He took a deep breath, and as he started down the hallway, he hoped she would forgive him.

Chapter 8

‡

Kate crouched down and gripped the drawer handle with both hands. She braced one knee on the floor, squared her shoulders and pulled.

Nothing.

Biting her lip, she did it once again, throwing all she had against the recalcitrant drawer. With a final tug, the drawer flew open and tossed Kate right onto her backside.

“Damn it.” She shook her head and vowed to ask the assistant headmaster, beg if necessary, for a new file cabinet.

The hand that settled under her elbow startled her, but not nearly so much as when she looked up and saw David Burke’s face.

“Nice landing,” he said.

Scrambling to her feet, Kate dusted off her skirt and stepped away from him. He filled up every inch of space in the room, took all the air. He was such a presence. Kate didn’t know how she was still standing. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“Which question do you want me to answer first?” he said.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” She waved toward the door. “Go away.”

“I have a few things to say and then I’ll go.”

“The bad days always manage to get worse.” Kate pressed her fingers to her temples and massaged, hoping to relieve the tension in her head.

“I’m sorry. I want to explain. When I saw you in New York—”

Kate put her hand up in a stopping motion. “Oh, God. Not New York. Please. I don’t need placating.”

“I’m not. Like I said, I’m explaining. I owe you an apology. I was meeting a friend and his fiancée asked Chelsea to join us without knowing we weren’t seeing each other anymore.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“I wasn’t playing you.”

“Okay, so you’ve explained. Thanks. Bye.”

He didn’t move. He just stood there and stared at the floor, but he was a little too close for comfort. Her desk was an effective barrier, so Kate moved to the other side to put some distance between them.

“I think too much,” he finally said.

What?

Kate raised her eyes and looked at him through the veil of her lashes and actually bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at what he said. “You… excuse me? I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m sure you do. Look, I’m not good at this relationship stuff, and I thought that since you were so fresh off your divorce, you needed time to readjust to being single. And then there’s the age thing…”

Now she was interested. The idiot didn’t even realize he was insulting her. She dropped her head and folded her arms. “There it is.”

“Even you have to admit you were thrown by the age difference. You had to be.”

He had a point, but still, the evidence told another story. “So it had nothing to do with the woman I saw you with, or the other women you’ve been photographed with, over the past month? You didn’t call me because you were afraid I’d get—what—the wrong idea?”

He opened his mouth to speak, stopped himself and then started again. “I don’t know.”

She walked around the desk and faced him. “You thought what? That I was some sad, needy cougar?”

He kneaded the back of his neck, obviously frustrated. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Really?” She walked in a circle and clenched her fists. “I don’t even know how to respond to such stupidity. If you recall, you were the one who invited me out.”

“I know, but you wanted to see me. There’s something special between us.” She looked in his direction and saw the low-slung jeans, the polo shirt that spanned his chest and the leather jacket he hooked over one shoulder. His voice was low, husky, and he was so very handsome. “That’s why you’re upset. And I’m sorry.”

She looked at his handsome face and into his eyes, and Kate felt herself soften. Damn. This was not fair.

“I’m not upset. I’m not…” Her eyes burned because he was right. “This can only end badly and—”

“Kate, please—”

“No.” She stopped him. “You’re right about one thing. I’m not cut out for casual relationships. It’s no one’s fault, it’s just me. We’re too different.”

“I don’t think we are. We were great together.”

“We were great in bed,” she snapped. “It wouldn’t work.”

“It was more than bed and you know it. I like you,” he argued. “Give me the chance to show you.”

“Show me?”

He stuffed his free hand in the front pocket of his jeans and shrugged. “It’s different with you. You make me feel like a… like I don’t know… an adult.”

“Well, see. There’s that forty thing again. Remember?” Kate rubbed her hands over her face. Her midlife delusion, the one that started in California, was about to come crashing to a halt.

“That shouldn’t be an issue,” he said.

“I’m older than you, David. A lot.”

“I know. And it’s not that much.”

“What! Not that much?” She turned. He met her gaze with eyes that possessed a strong sense of purpose and a grin that made her toes curl. “When I had my daughter, I’ll bet you didn’t even have a whisker on your chin.”

He stared at her. His mouth didn’t move. It seemed locked in that silly grin, while his eyes didn’t stray from her face. He’d either gone deaf or gone into shock with the image she’d given him.

“Are you processing any of this?” He nodded and Kate threw up her hands and her voice shot up an octave. “Why are you smiling?”

“I’m trying to figure out why you’re upset.”

“Oh, my God! David, I’m ten years older than you. I have a seventeen-year-old daughter!”

He casually sat on the edge of a desk and put his jacket on the desk next to him.

“You don’t want to date a younger man?”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“No. Not seeing you again bothers me a lot more.” He closed the distance between them and his hands glided slowly up and down her arm.

Those amazing hands—big, strong, expressive. The warmth that shot through her made her muscles twitch, and David’s eyes sparkled at the response.

“From the minute I met you, I knew something was different about you. It’s the difference between a girl and a woman. It just took me a little while to get my head around it.” The pad of his thumb brushed over her lips. “That’s about you, not your age.”

“I feel like a girl,” she whispered. “I’m scared and confused… I’m not ready for you.”

He dropped his head, resting his forehead on hers. “I shouldn’t have blown you off—for any reason. I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“Don’t you believe in second chances?”

“Believing in people cost me everything.” She turned away from him.

“I’m not going to give up.” His voice was firm.

“David, I’m sure you thrive on challenge, I get that part of your personality. The competitive part of you wants to win.” Kate swallowed hard and turned to face him. “But I’m not a game to be played. Go back to your girl of the day and leave me out of the mix.”

He stared at her long and hard with his beautiful brown eyes. His expression turned stony, cold, determined. She’d seen the same look when she watched him on the ice. She’d hit a nerve with the “girl of the day” comment.

“Kate, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. That’s no game. I wanted to talk to you because I screwed up. When I’m wrong, I admit it.” He stepped forward, took her face gently in his hands, and kissed her lips. It was feather light, a mere brush of his mouth on hers, but Kate felt a charge that made her head go fuzzy. He pulled back and gazed at her before picking up his jacket. “I hope you’ll be able to do the same when you find out you’re wrong about me.”