Page 75 of The Headmaster’s Rule

I reach across the table, brushing my fingers against hers. “Get used to it.”

Her gaze drops to her plate as she smiles to herself. The kind of smile that’s bigger than she’s letting on, like she doesn’t want me to see how my words, my actions, have affected her. But I do see, and my chest grows full and tight. I’ll do anything to keep her smiling like that.

We eat in easy silence for a while, but I sense there’s something on her mind. When our eyes meet over the food, I smile.

“Say it.”

She laughs, draining her wine. I rise to grab the bottle from the fridge, refilling her glass.

“It’s about work,” she murmurs, and I smile as I settle back into my seat.

“That’s fine, sweetheart. Tell me.”

“I was thinking about the fundraiser. It’s only a month away, and we still have so much to do.”

I nod, sipping my wine.

“We need more volunteers. To delegate some of the work.” Her gaze flicks to mine, apologetic. “I’m doing as much as I can, but with my class, and…” she trails off, releasing a sheepish laugh. “Well, I’ve been a little distracted lately…”

I chuckle, reaching for her hand across the table. “You and me both.” I stroke my thumb across her knuckles. “You’re right, though. It’s a lot for us to manage alone, and I don’t want you taking on too much. We’ll assemble a small team to delegate some tasks.”

Relief softens her eyes. “Thanks.”

“And we need to be careful not to let this”—I motion between us—“interfere.”

“It won’t,” she says quickly, though I meant it more as a warning to myself than to her. She sets her spoon down, smiling as she pushes her empty bowl away. “That was divine, Theo. Thank you.”

I beam, clearing our plates from the table, not wanting her to see how pleased I am by her words. A moment later she follows me into the kitchen, wine in hand, and leans against the counter.

“Let me clean up,” she offers.

“Not a chance.” I load the dishwasher, wiping the counters as I contemplate my next move. Dessert is warming in the oven, but when I find her watching me with fire in her gaze, I decide it can wait.

She sets her wineglass down as I approach, a flirtatious smile on her mouth. “Watching you cook and clean is very sexy.”

“Because it’s domestic,” I say, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers trail over her collarbone. “It proves I can take care of you.” I lower my mouth to the curve of her neck, that spot I’ve been desperate for all evening, and bite her softly. “In more ways than one.”

She breathes out hard, whether from my words or my touch, I’m not sure, but my self-control has reached its limit. What’s that they say about the road to hell being paved with good intentions? Well, I know where I’m going. I’ve kept my hands off her all day, and if I don’t touch her now, she’ll keep saying sweet things that will make me cancel my weekend conference, something I can’t let happen. Besides, my goal tonight is to spoil her, and I know exactly how to make her feel good.

I kiss her long and slow, sliding my tongue teasingly over hers. She moans as my hands find her hips, gripping tightly. Then I lift her, placing her on the kitchen counter. She gasps in surprise, gazing at me with dazed, heavy-lidded eyes as my hands nudge her knees apart, trailing up her thighs.

“What about dessert?” she whispers, and I give her a filthy grin.

“I can’t think of anything sweeter.”

CHAPTER 25

Eleanor

Theo’s warm hands slide up my bare thighs, spreading them with an urgency that makes my breath catch. His mouth captures mine in a blistering kiss, fingers tracing the edges of my panties.

I can’t believe how long it’s taken for him to put his hands on me tonight. Since the moment I saw him in my classroom this morning, hands sticky with pumpkin, face lit with a proud grin, I’ve been desperate to kiss him. To touch him. I never expected him to visit us today, let alone actually carve a pumpkin, and it was freaking adorable to see the concentration on his face as he worked. To see him get pumpkin on his fancy work shirt and laugh. The kids noticed the lightness in him, too. Like he’s finally letting himself set down some of the weight he carries.

It’s only making me fall harder.

I’ve watched the clock all day, excited to be alone with him. I half hoped he’d rip my clothes off the minute I stepped through the door, but he’s shown his usual restraint. Don’t get me wrong, dinner was delicious, and it was so cute how hard he tried to set the mood, but I can’t deny how badly I need his mouth on mine, his hands on my skin.

“Finally,” I breathe, fingers going to his shirt. He’s sexy hot tonight, slightly dressed down in chinos and a button-down shirt. I thought he looked good in a suit, but this button-down with the sleeves rolled? Fuck.