Waking Up To Love (Lakeside Porches Book 4) (15 page)

“I wanted to, uh, I want to straighten out the problems between us. At the very least, I don’t want you walking around with an unfair, negative view of me.”

I can identify with that
. She opened her mouth to reply, but he forged ahead. “You know, you came on really strong the first time we had coffee, pressuring me about dating and such.”

Pressuring?
She reminded herself that the best defense is a good offense, and Rand had rehearsed this offensive tack.

“I’m sorry you saw it that way. Please go on.”

“When you brought up the apple picking, I didn’t feel I could say no to a relative of our esteemed president Justin Cushman, so I went along with it.”

“Really, Rand?”
Keep your cool, Lyssa
. With a sweet voice, she said, “It’s unfortunate you felt that way. I assure you, you’re under no obligation to entertain me or to introduce me around or—”

“It’s just that dodging cow dung in an orchard is really not my thing.”

“I got that.” She grinned.

To her surprise, he gave her a warm smile and a look of sincere interest. “I’m more into golf and tennis and skydiving and soaring,” he said.

“Soaring like in a sailplane?”

His baby-blue eyes lit up. “Yes, have you ever been?”

“Once. I loved it. I grew up not far from a soaring center in the Southern Tier.”

“Harris Hill?”

“No, farther west. But I’ve distracted you.”

“Would you be interested sometime?”

“I would, actually, but only if a big group were going, like for the apple picking. It would be a fascinating way to get to know people.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Rand said. Something shifted behind his eyes.

Creepy
.

“In the meantime, how about having that dinner we missed? We can drive over to Skaneateles to a favorite place.”

“No, Rand. That’s sweet, but I don’t want to date you. Or kiss you. Or ride anywhere with you.”

“What?”

“You probably think I’m hopelessly uptight about the pot thing, but I’m sincere about that. I have to set new limits with you. I do hope we’ll still be friends, because you’re charming and funny and wicked smart.” She gave him a bright smile. “Maybe we’ll see each other at receptions. No hard feelings, okay?” She hooked her purse over her shoulder.

“Not okay.” He grabbed her arm, his face a storm of emotions. His lips twitched in a way that bared a few teeth.
Scary
.

“Was there something you didn’t understand about the new limits?” She jerked her arm away as she rose from the bench.

He lifted his hands, palms open. “I want to make it up to you, spend time with you.”

“There’s no need. Let’s let bygones be bygones. Thanks for the cappuccino.” Belatedly, she spied her laptop and scooped it up.
Just walk out of here.
The door was five steps away. Four steps.

“I will win you over.”

“Not,” she said loudly, without turning back. Two steps. One. She pushed open the café door and filled her lungs with fresh, clean air.

“That felt good,” she said to no one in particular.
I was strong, fair, and clear
.

Halfway to her classroom, her phone buzzed with an incoming text.
Kyle
. She stopped on the path and read, ‘leaving heathrow in the a.m. sensitive work assignment at tompkins coll. hush hush’

Her thumbs tripped over each other when she tried to reply. She managed a smiley face and ‘call’.

‘right. love u’

‘miss u’

“The flight from hell?” Justin greeted him.

Kyle shook hands with his old friend. “Endless delays. Thanks for coming to my rescue. I couldn’t have driven to your home tonight if my life depended on it.”

“No need. We’ll get a car for you tomorrow. Gianessa’s waiting with a delicious meal. Tomorrow’s soon enough to talk about the audit at the college.”

They deposited his bags in the trunk and pulled away from the curb at the Rochester airport.

Kyle rested his head against the car window and closed his eyes. When he opened them, the Cushman home filled his vision. He shook off the fog in his brain and eased the crick in his neck as he climbed out of Justin’s Saab.

“Welcome, Kyle,” a woman’s musical voice greeted him from the terrace. A slender, toffee-haired beauty beamed a smile that awakened all of his senses.

“Am I finally meeting Gianessa? Sorry, I’m a bit groggy.”

“Come inside for a meal. Justin will see to the bags.” She took his elbow and steered him toward the front door. The scent of Chloe enticed him to follow.

“No, wait, one’s heavy.” He patted her hand and turned back to help Justin. “If you’ll get the suitcase, old chap, I’ll deal with the equipment.”

“What in heaven’s name is in that thing?” Justin asked after attempting to lift a black rolling carry-on bag from the trunk. “It must weigh fifty pounds.”

“Forty-three. Computers, routers, cables, special cards, and devices. Oh, and a shirt and change of underwear. It all fits neatly.”

“They let you take that on the plane?”

“I do it all the time.” Kyle rolled it to the front door and lifted it easily over the threshold.

“If you don’t absolutely need it every minute, you might want to leave it on this level. Your suite is two floors down.”

“Yes, well . . .”

“Kyle, we don’t have alcohol in the house,” Gianessa told him. “I’ve brewed some herbal tea, or we have decaf coffee or regular tea.”

“Er, regular tea for me, please. Excuse me, what’s the time?”

“After midnight.”

“Blast, too late to call Lyssa.” He’d text her about having coffee with him first thing.

“About that,” Justin said, “hold off speaking with her until we’ve talked about the conditions of the audit you’re doing for the college.”

“Justin,” Gianessa said sharply.

Grateful to have an ally in Gianessa, Kyle said, “I’m afraid she already knows I’m coming. She’s aware it’s a sensitive job with the need for secrecy.”

Justin glared.

In response, Kyle’s eyes were like flint. “You’re assured of her discretion, as well as mine.”

The lawn glistened with morning dew, and a fickle wind batted Lyssa’s copper curls as she crossed Overlook Park to the Cushman grounds. Nearer Justin’s house, a noisy flock of cedar waxwings feasted on red berries in a bank of shrubs. Kyle emerged from the lowest level of Justin and Gianessa’s house onto the patio.

Lyssa’s breath came out in a
whoosh
at the sight of him. Narrow hips, muscled arms and shoulders, smoothly styled brown hair, and clothes that played up every asset. “Kyle!” she called to him, her heart racing with joy.

He spotted her and started across the patio. When she waved at him to stay there, her feet slipped on the wet grass, and the wave became a windmill as she danced to keep her balance. Once she recovered her footing, she laughed merrily and resumed her walk at a more prudent pace.

Kyle disappeared inside and came back carrying a tray with steaming mugs and a plate of something. A bright pink beach towel hung over one shoulder.

He set the mugs and plate on a small table. When he brandished the towel and bowed to her, it was all she could do not to laugh out loud. It wouldn’t do to wake the household. She was just close enough to hear him, but not to hug him, when he said, “If my lady won’t let me gallop across the wet lawn in my Italian loafers, at least I can dry my lady’s feet.”

She ran the last few yards into his arms. The pink towel fell from his grip and pooled around her feet as he drew her to him, so close she could feel his heart thudding against her chest.
I want this every morning
. “I am so happy you’re here,” she told him.

“I’ve missed you desperately.” He smoothed the curls from her face and devoured her lips with his eyes before kissing her hungrily—lips first, then cheeks and the length of her neck from her earlobe to the base of her throat. “That’s a proper kiss for you at last.”

And this. Every morning
. She raked his hair with her fingers and drew him into another kiss, tender and lingering.

Caressing her back and drawing her hips to him, he deepened the kisses, parting her lips with his tongue. They stood for a moment, hearts pounding as the breeze swirled around them and birds chattered.
Don’t let this be just a dream
.

Once the aroma of coffee penetrated her senses, she stepped out of the embrace. “Better than my dreams.”

“I’m so sorry I let Justin influence my pursuit of you.” He reached for a mug and passed it to her, handle first.

“He told me he’d exacted a promise from you.” She took a sip. “Good coffee.”

“Yes, but I should have abandoned it long before this. That’s on me. Are you angry about it?”

She shrugged. “A little. But let’s not spoil this morning.”

He eyed her skeptically and gave her one of those quirky Cornish expressions guaranteed to disarm—one side of his mouth tugged in a smile, eyes twinkling. “No worries then, eh?”

“No worries,” she said with a laugh.

He gestured to the table. “I found this lovely date-nut tea bread on the counter and heated it up. Something labeled cream cheese that looks nothing like Devonshire clotted cream.”

“It’s a feast.” She set about spreading the cheese on slices of date bread for both of them.

He drew the towel from his shoulder, squatted in front of her, removed one wet pink Croc, and dried her foot.

“What? You don’t have to do that.”

He held up a hand. “Allow me to be chivalrous.” He repeated with the other foot and started a massage.

She sighed as he kneaded the arches, then giggled when he ran one finger down the center of her right sole. Tingles ran up her leg and awakened her insides.

“Ah, you’re ticklish. What else don’t I know?”

“Many things to be discovered.”

“I’ll hold you to that very soon.” Their gazes locked. She ran her tongue over her lips.

He grinned as he packed the towel around her feet and legs. Seated across the table from her, he saluted with his mug and sipped the hot brew. “Cheers.”

“Cheers. I’m savoring every moment of this,” she said and took another bite of the rich date-nut bread.

His gaze roamed over her body.

Sun warmed the patio.

When a curious sparrow landed on the edge of their table, Lyssa said to the intruder, “Oh, no, no. This is not
your
breakfast.”

“Let’s eat up.” He shooed the bird and reached for his bread.

“But I want it to last forever. I’m afraid to ask how long you’re staying.”

Kyle squared his shoulders. “First, I must tell you I’m doing a sensitive job for Miriam Sekora and Justin, and I need you to keep it strictly confidential. Even the fact that we know each other. Will you do that, luv?”

“Oh.” She swallowed her disappointment.

His eyes were dark with worry. “Justin will be angry that I’m even telling you.”

“Kyle, I am done with having Justin dictate the terms of our relationship.” Her cheeks heated.

“Agreed.”

“But . . .” She shook her head, baffled. “Is your work here related to the grade fixing they’ve just discovered?” At Kyle’s nod, Lyssa reflected that the provost and president had acted swiftly—immediately—to engage a security expert. She drew a conclusion. “There must be more than grade fixing.”

Kyle didn’t deny it. “Tell me what you know,” he said.

Lyssa related the chance meeting between Professor Anton and Rand on the path, followed by Rand’s nervousness and his evasive responses to her questions. “He broke out in a sweat, and he was hot to make a phone call.” She told him about the awkward scene when he put in their order and then left her sitting alone.

“Any idea whom he called?”

“He said he was returning a student’s call, but I didn’t buy it. From his behavior, I have to believe he was warning someone and talking over what to do about the grade fixing. Or its discovery. I’m not sure which. And it was urgent because, before we met Professor Anton, Rand had been completely focused on talking with me about a disagreement we’d had.”

“Who is this Rand?” He tossed the unfinished piece of bread onto his plate.

Lyssa squirmed. “A faculty friend. I had asked him to help me meet other faculty, though it didn’t work out well. I was actually telling him off.” She lightened her tone. “Was it just the day before yesterday?”

“Right, yes.” He cleared his throat. “To answer your question, I’ve been asked to do a full security audit of the systems, to identify any and all security breaches and their perpetrators, going back six months. Also to find and disable Trojan Horses, back doors, bogus accounts and the like. And to verify the integrity of every database, every file, and every byte of data.

“You already know that the grade fixing and security in general are hot buttons for some faculty, like this Anton and your Rand, whether they’re the violators themselves or merely upset about the breaches. We hope most people will be glad someone is cleaning house, but a few will not, and we want to know who those few are and what they’re up to.”

“Will those people lose their jobs, do you think? Someone said there had been a lot of cuts last year.”

“Likely to be more, yes. Lyssa, I don’t want you in the line of fire by associating with me.” At her wide-eyed protest, he said, “It will take all of one day for someone to know the system is under scrutiny and, at most, another day for them to identify me as the hired spy. I’ll work from here as much as I can, but I’ll also be on campus and visible.”

“You’d be less visible working there at night. There are no classes after six, and not much is happening on the quad then.” She finished her date bread and brushed crumbs onto the patio. Their sparrow swooped in.

“Yes, but that makes me vulnerable in another way.”