Dinner With a Bad Boy (3 page)

That alone would be bad enough, but then he'd gone and kissed Miss Asian Seductress. Not a simple peck on the cheek, but an eating-her-whole, can't-get-enough, how-low-can-one-man-go kiss in full view of her family. Then he'd gone on kissing her and doing all sorts of depraved things with her. Not in fact, but all night long as his imagination tormented him.

He still didn't know why he'd done it, much less taken her money. But he knew without a doubt that he'd do it again.

Right now, in fact. In the middle of school even, because for whatever reason, she obsessed him. Everything from her repressed-accountant suit to her subtle ginger-spice scent intrigued him. What woman dressed like a corporate robot but kissed like a wildcat? And why would a woman—one from a very solid and upright family—suddenly want to horrify them with a biker-fed pretend date? The puzzle intrigued him so much that he'd lost an entire school day to the distraction of unwanted fantasies.

Talk about teen flashback. Here he was, back in school, desperately trying to haul his mind off some girl. Maybe his father was right: He'd never outgrown his adolescence.

Then Mitch rounded a corner, heading for the sanctuary of his classroom, only to come face-to-face with his imagination. There she stood—or rather crouched—over her niece, a lost look on her face. Mitch didn't want to interfere. Lord, the last thing he needed was a
higher
profile with Mandy's family, but a second glance revealed the girl in tears.

Mitch stifled a groan. He had ample experience with teen drama—real or imagined—and in this case he probably understood more than Mandy's beleaguered aunt. So, after a stern mental warning to keep his libido firmly in check, Mitch cleared his throat and sauntered forward.

"Are you all right, Mandy?"

The poor girl looked up, stammering in her haste to swallow her tears. "M-Mr. Kurtz!"

He gave Mandy a gentle smile, while beside him he felt more than saw her aunt's lithe body tighten with anxiety.
Down, libido, down!
He forced himself to concentrate on Mandy, settling onto his haunches to look her in the eye.

"One bad grade—even an F—isn't grounds for tears," he began. "Though I am concerned—" He didn't get any farther as, beside them, the seductress exhaled in loud relief.

"Is that what this is about? Lord, Amanda, you scared me half to death."

"No." Mandy hiccupped, her voice a low moan. "It's not that. I mean, it is, but..." Her voice slipped away as tears continued to stream down her face.

Mitch tried again, keeping his voice gentle. "I want to help, kiddo, but you gotta talk."

The girl looked up, her eyes tragic. "They'll take me off the team."

Mitch almost laughed, but he'd been teaching teens too long to make that mistake. Still, he couldn't resist smiling. "You're a long way from academic probation. You can still play volleyball."

Beside him, however, instead of sharing his relief, his mysterious Sue blew out a soft sigh. "Oh, Amanda, I'm so sorry." Then she opened her arms as Mandy dove into them, the girl's tears darkening Sue's silk blouse to almost black.

Meanwhile Mitch stood up, confusion warring with distraction as he noticed that Mandy's distress had pulled her aunt's top two buttons open. Once again he mentally kicked his libido back into a corner as he quipped, "Honest Injun, she's still okay to play."

Then Sue lifted her dark Asian eyes, meeting his with obvious trepidation, but her voice remained level. "Chinese family, Dra...er, Mr. Kurtz." He watched as her olive skin flushed in embarrassment. "If Amanda can't keep up with her studies, then her sports activities go first."

He frowned. "First? Before what?"

"Culture!" Mandy practically spat out the word. "Piano
and
violin."

"Well," he hedged, already recognizing the problem, "music is very valua—"

"I hate them!" the girl cried. "I don't ever want to play again!" Then, before he could respond, Mandy whipped around, her skin blotchy beneath dark eyes suddenly shining with hope. "Wait! Ma Ma's out of town! She left this morning for some training thing, so I'm staying with Auntie Ling." Her gesture definitely indicated his Sue. Then as Mitch sorted that out, Mandy dove into her backpack for her test paper, dragging it out to shove at her aunt.

"Just a minute," he began, but the teen wasn't listening. Since Mitch had graded the test, he knew exactly what it said and what Mandy was doing. Right below the bright red F, he'd stamped a message requiring a parent's signature. It was school policy.

"You can sign," she urged her aunt. "Then Ma Ma never has to know. Oh, please," she begged both of them, "don't make me quit. I love volleyball more than anything!"

Mitch groaned. Not only one siren, but an entire family! First the aunt distracted him in ways he wasn't even allowed to think of in school, and then the niece tempted him to throw away his ethics. If any of his students deserved a break, Mandy certainly qualified. He'd never seen a more studious, more diligent, more repressed child. He also knew Mandy's football-star Caucasian dad had long since skipped town, likely leaving quite a negative impression regarding any sport. Unfortunately the girl came alive only when on the volleyball court, and he would hate to see her give it up.

But if he allowed her to maintain her crushing schedule, he only continued the cycle of oppression.

"Your
mother
has to sign, Mandy," he said, feeling remorse even as he enforced the rules. The girl turned, already opening her mouth to argue, but he held up his hand. "Do you remember what I said the first day of practice? About how sports..." He let his voice trail away, hoping she'd answer for him. It took her a long time, but eventually she mumbled her answer.

"Sports test us, teaching us about who we really are." She looked up at him. "But I
love
volleyball."

He nodded. He knew she did, and that made this all that much harder. "Do you really want to discover you're a liar?"

She looked away, refusing to answer. That was when the other siren spoke up. "Maybe there's another way," Sue offered. "Couldn't she do some extra credit? A report or something?" She looked down at her niece. "To bring up your grade before your mother returns. Then she won't be so angry, and maybe you can stay on the team."

Suddenly Mandy was all smiles, and both females turned hopeful eyes to him. Once again he found himself sorely tempted. "But," he said to himself as much as to them, "pouring more work onto an already overburdened schedule is not the solution."

"But I can handle it!" Mandy pressed. "I swear I can!"

Mitch just shook his head. "Why don't you tell your aunt why you failed that test?" Again the girl looked down at her shoes, refusing to answer. Finally Mitch stepped in, answering for her: "She fell asleep."

Mandy cut in, her tone mulish, "There were all those Christmas recitals and stuff. I just got too tired."

Her aunt shrugged, the sight once again pulling Mitch's attention where it definitely should not go. With those top two buttons open, he was hard-pressed to breathe, much less understand what the temptress said. "The holidays are nuts. Everyone gets tired."

Mitch cleared his throat, trying to open up his restricted airway. "She fell asleep
during
the exam." While Sue's eyes widened in shock, Mitch pushed his advantage. He forced himself to look directly into Sue's eyes, seeing her not as a seductress but as Mandy's temporary guardian. "She's trying to manage two instruments, volleyball, and honors classes. She has to cut back."

Sue just shrugged. "Chen family rules, Mr. Kurtz. We all took music."

"But I
hate
it," the girl wailed.

The woman sighed, and the sound pulled at Mitch's thoughts. If it were up to him she wouldn't ever have a reason to sigh. He'd make sure.... Then he frowned, ruthlessly refocusing his thoughts. "You need to discuss this with your mother."

"She's out of town," Mandy said with a sniff.

"Any discussion begins with her grades," said her aunt, her voice level and reasonable, yet still sparking unreasonable thoughts in his mind. "Mandy's got to pull them up first before she can change anything." Her tone softened, and Mitch knew he was doomed. The woman obviously wasn't trying to be seductive, but the effect remained the same: he wanted to grant her whatever she asked. "Won't you consider some extra credit?" she coaxed.

He bit his lip, his conscience warring with his need to grant this goddess her every wish. "I don't think it's a good idea," he tried.

"What if I throw in that dinner I promised you? Tonight? At six?"

What could he say to that? She'd just made him an offer he couldn't resist.

Chapter 2

Su Ling wiped her mouth with her napkin, feeling pleasantly stuffed as she continued the lively banter that had marked this delightful meal. "Are you going to harangue me about my family all night long?" she asked, feeling much less put-out than she sounded.

"Of course," Mitch responded with a laugh as he polished off the last of his apple pie. He certainly fit right into the Texas Roadhouse—a rootin'-tootin' steakhouse with peanut shells on the floor and food served out of buckets. Truth be told, she loved the atmosphere and was having the "barrels of fun" promised on the billboard, but then that might have more to do with her companion. They'd discussed everything from favorite vacation spots to office politics. Right now they were arguing the merits of high Chinese demands on a child versus the more American "keep it fun" approach. Naturally he supported the more relaxed method.

"It's not just a Chinese tradition, though your family seems to have it in spades," he answered. "My father applied pressure with the delicacy of a sledgehammer." She caught an edge to his voice, but he continued speaking before she could ask for details. "I'm just saying you've got an opportunity with Mandy right now. Try not to waste it."

"Opportunity?" she asked, all the while watching his lips as he spoke. Despite their fascinating conversation, she hadn't been able to keep her mind from replaying last night's kiss. She felt like the worst sort of wanton for constantly focusing on his mouth, his muscled chest, the way he still looked dark and dangerous even though he'd shaved off his three-day beard. She shouldn't be thinking this way, she admonished herself. But no matter how she tried to turn her attention elsewhere, she'd spent most of tonight's dinner being tormented by erotic thoughts.

"You're Mom for the next few weeks," he continued, hopefully unaware of her deviant fantasies. "See if you can lighten up on Mandy. Show her there's more to life than—"

"Being an accountant?" she interrupted, her eyebrow arched in challenge.

He laughed, having the grace to look embarrassed as he stood to retrieve her coat. She stood as well, letting him help her into her outerwear while she relished every moment their bodies accidentally touched. And they had accidentally connected a lot tonight. Their hands. Their arms. Even their feet had played a coy type of footsie beneath the table.

"There's nothing wrong with being an accountant," he continued. "It's just that..." He sighed. "She's thirteen. Whoever said, 'I want to be an accountant when I grow up'? She should be thinking rock star or Olympic medalist. What'd you want to be when you were little?"

She didn't even hesitate. "A ballet star. I wanted it so badly."

He bit his lip, and she nearly groaned out loud. What was wrong with her, obsessing about a man's mouth? "So how'd you get from ballet to accounting?"

She frowned, thrown by the question. "I don't know," she said slowly, trying to remember. "Ma Ma refused to even consider ballet, but I was good at math. She signed me up for my first accounting class, and I guess I just fell into it. What about you?"

He grinned. "Teaching. Always and forever, and my parents
hated
the idea. No money in education. But I love my job. I started as a camp counselor when I was fourteen and just kept going. So trust me on this. Forget all that Chinese pressure," he urged, "and let Mandy explore. She'll find something she loves."

Su Ling wanted to argue, but he had a point. She'd seen Amanda's schedule. Didn't normal kids play video games or something? There wasn't time in Amanda's life to listen to the radio, much less turn on a mindless video device. Su Ling greatly feared volleyball was the poor kid's only fun activity. Still, she couldn't quite give up the argument, if only to prevent herself from grabbing him right there and devouring him in a most unladylike way. "You're an educator. Shouldn't you lecture me on responsible parenting and diligent supervision?"