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“She argues with me constantly,” Ian objected. “Hazel isn’t the type of girl to do anything she doesn’t want to do. And I won’t have you insinuating that she’s the type of girl who would do something inappropriate just to get ahead.”
“No, no,” Huang said. “I think it’s just that she seems to admire you a good deal. As for what she wants…” He walked over to the tee. “Who could say. I bet she knows how to take it, if you know what I mean?”
Ian did know. And while he was fairly good at taking what he wanted as well, he’d always been very cautious not to let himself want things he couldn’t have. He had a reputation, yes, but he had never been one to take advantage. He’d lured Hazel into his web, but couldn’t bear to bring any harm to her. His hands longed to hold her, his lips to touch hers, but she was still his student. Her admiration meant everything to him, and he wouldn’t lose it for a wild night, no matter what.
***
Hazel returned home from the library to the sight of Natalie on the sofa with Hawk, who had his feet up on their coffee table.
“Hello, twin,” he said, stretching his arms over his head.
“Hi, twin. What’s up?” Hazel dropped her bag by the table and flopped down next to him.
“Mom says she can’t get a hold of you.” He scratched his hair. “Everyone thinks you’re dead.”
“I’m not dead. I’m working. I can tell why she’d mistake that for deadness, since she’s never seen it happen in any of her other children,” Hazel drawled.
“Oh, my God.” Natalie whistled. “Ouch.”
“I work. I take care of the house,” Hawk argued. “Anyway, can you call her before she buries herself in passive aggression, or whatever?”
“I’ll call tomorrow. I’m too tired right now.” Hazel rested her head on Hawk’s shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in forever either.”
“Fast life in the coding world. I’m still trying to sign on a writer.”
“What about the artist?”
Hawk shrugged and snatched the remote from Natalie. “Artists are easier to get. And cheaper. They’ll do extra work just to get better exposure.”
“That’s awful. People should be paid what they’re worth, even if—”
“Dammit, Hawk, why do you have to get her started?” Natalie groaned and glared at Hazel. “Do you know what an awful day I’ve had? Give it a rest, Mother Teresa!”
“Whatever.” Hazel closed her eyes. “I’m going to nap now. I’ve written so much this week I think I’ve induced some kind of hyper-aggressive carpal tunnel.”
“Just wait,” Natalie said with false cheer. “Midterms next week.”
Hazel curled her knees up to her chest and moaned. “Nooo, I’m dying this week, so I don’t have to do it.”
“See?” Hawk said, rubbing Hazel’s shoulders. “This is why you college nerds are dumb, and I’m a genius.”
“Get a job, Genius,” Hazel shot back.
Logically, rationally, Hazel knew she should cut back on her time with Dr. Cartwright. They’d done enough planning on the book that she could write independently most of the week… but that would mean less time listening to Cartwright’s stories, less time basking in his admiration, less time with her heart racing from his casual touches. Obviously, the same man who had appeared on the weekly tabloids for years, enjoying affairs with models, actresses and socialites in every country he visited, could never really be interested in plain Hazel Greenwood—try-hard and annoying social activist.
The only thing she had going for her was the scholarly backing she could offer his book. Otherwise, she was just another girl following him. Just another woman who he could use and discard, if he so chose. He hadn’t chosen to do so, however. Cartwright had made it very clear that not only wasn’t he interested, but he wouldn’t think of having a relationship with an inferior.
Perhaps, it was for the best, but it made her heart ache.
Chapter Six
“Sir?” Vicki poked her head into Ian’s office.
He was reclining in his massage chair as he looked over a progress report for this branch. “Yes, Vicki?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I know you wanted the afternoon to yourself, but your ex-wife is here, and you remember what happened the last time she didn’t get what she wanted—”
“I remember.” Ian turned in the chair and dropped the papers on his desk. He didn’t have to ask which one it was. His first wife was in Europe and tried to never be in the same room with him, if she could help it. The feeling was mutual, after all of the baggage they had between them. “Send her in. I want to get rid of her before Hazel shows up.”
