Page 2 of Hawk and the Cougar

“You going to use that body to make me see reason?” His gaze raked down her length. “You’ll get a lot further than Jack and his sidekick The Beanstalk did.” He leaned so close his warm breath bathed her face. “Do you go all the way, sweetheart? Maybe even further? How much would that cost? My soul, maybe?”

“Cost—what the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded.

His brow lifted as it had in the lecture hall. “Well, well, you have a spine,” he said, in a voice that told her it wasn’t her spine he appreciated.

Liz straightened. He didn’t move, and her breasts brushed his chest. Her nipples tightened. Surely, he couldn’t feel her reaction through her lace bra and his shirt? Even if he did miss the rock-hard nipples that brushed his chest, he couldn’t miss the hammering of her heart. A mental picture flashed of him towering over Emma as he was her and the kid melting in his arms.

Liz narrowed her eyes. “What university course does this fall under?” Surprise flicked across his face, and she couldn’t resist a smug smile. “What’s wrong? You don’t know how to educate a real woman?”

“You want an education?” He leaned a hair’s breadth closer. Her nipples pressed into the steel of his chest. “I’d say so,” he added in a low voice.

A warning bell went off in her head—too late. His arm shot around her, and he yanked her against him. His mouth crashed down on hers, hot, moist, demanding. Liz seized his shoulders and shoved, but he crushed her against the car, his belt buckle digging into her stomach. She shoved harder, and he jerked back.

She dragged in a breath, her flesh on fire where he’d gripped her arms. “You son of a bitch, I’ll have you thrown in jail.”

He barked a laugh. “Oh, that’s rich. What will the charges read? ‘Local professor arrested for dishing out the same treatment he got’?”

Liz poked at his chest. He backed up a step, as if she’d jabbed him with a shotgun. “It’ll read ‘attempted rape,’ for starters.” She jabbed again, and advanced when he retreated another step. “Then I’ll pay a visit to,” another jab, another step back, “Dean Manning.”

He seized her wrist. “Listen, lady, I’ve had about all of this I’m going to take. You tell Reid—”

“All you’re going to take?” She yanked free. The guy was insane. What kind of man had Emma gotten involved with? “You’re finished.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that a threat?”

Despite the quiver in her stomach, she gave him a disgusted look. “A promise.”

He took the two steps to the driver’s side door, reached inside, and pulled the lever. “Make all the promises you want but stay away from Manning. He’s got nothing to do with this. He can’t change my mind, and he’s got no authority to override my decision. You tell Reid if he fucks with Manning, or anyone, he’ll have the Native American Commission down on his head before he can say ‘archaeological dig.’” He got into the truck.

Liz stared. “What are you talking about?” Something was very wrong. “I don’t give a damn about the Native American Commission.”

He turned on the engine. Headlights from a car entering the parking lot behind Liz cut across her body and illuminated his face. Professor Anthony Hawkins. Anthony Hawkins. The name had conjured pictures of a lanky intellectual who didn’t have the slightest idea how to please a woman. This six feet of steel was anything but lanky, and his mouth alone would drive a woman wild. How much of Em’s body had that mouth already explored?

“Stay away from Emma,” Liz warned.

His brows snapped into a frown. “Emma?”

“Stay away from her.”

“Emma Williams?”

Liz glanced over her shoulder at the approaching car. The black Suburban SUV made an unexpected swing in her direction. She jammed her eyes shut against the sudden intrusion of light.

“Move!” Professor Hawkins shouted.

Liz snapped her head around in time to see him leap from the truck. She whirled and faced the oncoming car. What felt like a brick wall crashed into her, and arms clamped around her like steel bands. They hit asphalt, her on top of him in unison with a deafening crash. Wheels screeched. Liz jerked her head up and gasped at the sight of the SUV backing up at full speed. The mammoth vehicle had rammed the Chevy!

The professor jumped to his feet, pulling her up with him, and lunged for the truck. She dug her heels in. He whirled, hauled her over his shoulder, and fairly leapt the few feet to the truck. He tossed her onto the seat as the SUV made a turn toward them.

“Move!” he shouted again, and she barely scooted over before he jumped in.

The Suburban came straight at them. He started the truck and jammed it into gear.

“What’s going on?” Liz demanded.

“Hold on.” He popped the clutch.

The Chevy shot backwards. Liz seized the dash to keep from flying forward, then braced herself when he hit the brakes and jammed into first gear. She dug a hand into the seat crevice in a frantic search for the seatbelt. Headlights filled the cab. She blinked against the glare of light as they raced forward, heading straight for the SUV.