ash-blondes like her, usually had fine skin coloring that required a certain amount of makeup so they wouldn’t look washed out.
She didn’t seem to be wearing any makeup because with that flawless young skin, she didn’t need to. The faint flush which had appeared while he’d been drinking his fill of her only added natural color to her classic features. He’d never seen a female with such perfectly shaped eyebrows or lips.
Ms. Lawrence was more woman than he’d met in years. How could she only be eighteen?
It was common knowledge that girls her age often matured faster than boys. But somehow he hadn’t expected a teenager in his group to make him think thoughts he had no business thinking by simply looking at her.
The first order of business was to get himself under control. Since Annabelle had spurned him, he hadn’t actively pursued another relationship. That’s what was wrong with him. If he could be this easily distracted by a girl who was young enough to be his daughter, then he’d been without a woman too long.
Maybe he’d better concentrate on returning Fran Ashton’s interest since they were going to be on the same tour bus. Except that the vivacious thirty-year-old French teacher from Rosemont High had come on too strong to him at the last meeting, letting him know she was single and available. He was afraid the attraction was all on her part.
Nothing about this assignment was going the way he had planned it, and the tour hadn’t even started yet.
“If you’ve recovered from your disappointment, Whitney, we’ll go into the auditorium and watch a film which will explain about the items in your packets.”
Once more their gazes met, but dark lashes partially concealed the expression in hers. “I’m sorry, Mr. Smith. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“No apology necessary. You and the guys can call me Hank. I don’t like standing on formality.”
She’d averted her eyes, obviously still upset that she couldn’t be in Mr. Bowen’s group. Apparently Gerard’s target was so popular with his students, even kids from around the state had heard of him.
Normally her show of disappointment wouldn’t have fazed him. But there was nothing normal about this situation, certainly not this awareness of her or the fact that one of the teachers was suspected of passing information to a foreign government.
Much as Gerard wished Whitney Lawrence had been assigned to any other teacher than himself, he had to admit he was glad she didn’t make up part of Donald Bowen’s group.
The man who came off acting like he was every student’s best friend, was wanted by Interpol and considered dangerous. When Gerard got the goods on him, Donald Bowen would spend the rest of his life in prison. The popular French teacher with the perfect cover to camouflage his double life was about to take his last trip to Europe.
“We’ll hurry inside and save seats,” Jeff volunteered. “Come on, Whitney.”
For another unguarded moment Gerard received the full impact of her gaze which was appraising him in open female interest once more. It seemed that because she had caught him doing the same thing to her moments earlier, she felt she’d been given the green light to keep flirting. Her aggression shouldn’t have surprised him. Teenagers these days had few inhibitions.
“You guys go ahead,” he heard her say in a slightly husky voice he found far too attractive. “I need to ask Hank a couple of questions first.”
Disappointment marred the boys’ features as they lingered a moment longer, then walked away disgruntled.
“What’s on your mind, Whitney?”
She bit softly against her lower lip where he could see her small, even white teeth. It angered him that every part of her beautiful face and body appealed to him this strongly, even the flowery scent of what could be her shampoo or perfume.
“My grandmother asked me to talk to you, but I didn’t want Roger or Jeff to overhear me.”
“Your grandmother?”
“Yes. She raised me. Anyway, I know this is going to sound conceited, but I can’t go anywhere without guys bothering me.”
Gerard could believe it. He had half a mind to call her grandmother and tell her Whitney had the kind of looks and sex appeal that shouldn’t be let loose anywhere around males, particularly not in Europe. The inviting glances she’d been giving him had been duly noted. Any man without scruples, be he young or old, would consider her fair game.
“Jeff and Roger are really nice and I like them, but I had hoped there would be another girl in our group to sit with on the bus. Since there isn’t, do you mind if I sit with you? Even in the movie? That way I’ll have you to protect me.”
He had to think fast. “I’m sure I can arrange with one of the other teachers for a female student to be your companion around Europe.”
“Please don’t do that!” she cried out softly. In an instant, her whole demeanor had changed. Her panic appeared real.
“Why not?”
“Because it won’t work. Everyone has a friend already, and they’ve chosen their groups. I know what girls are like. I joined the tour too late and they won’t want to include me. Besides, other girls always accuse me of trying to take away their boyfriends, even when I don’t do anything! They’re mean to me. It ruins e-everything.”
In his gut he knew she was speaking the truth. The girls who had chosen to go to Europe would have made certain they had a friend for the trip. They most definitely wouldn’t want to compete with a young woman who looked like Whitney.
“How is it you signed up to travel alone?”
Her gorgeous violet-blue eyes suddenly glistened with tears. “At the last minute, my best friend got sick and couldn’t come. I live with my grandmother, and when she heard that Leslie was ill, she wanted me to cancel, but I’ve been waiting for this trip forever.
“I earned all the money myself and graduated with a four point average. Because of that she finally said I could go on the tour if I promised to stay by my teacher the whole time. She doesn’t trust boys my age at all.”
Gerard stifled a groan. This was a complication he would never have anticipated.
“A friend of my cousin’s went on the trip with Mr. Bowen last year. She said he was so nice, I assumed he would take care of me. But I signed up too late to get in his group. You don’t mind if I sit with you, do you, Mr. Smith? I’ll be good and leave you alone. I promise.”
The tremor in her voice brought out an unbidden, protective instinct in him he hadn’t felt since long before Simone’s death. It put him at odds with his initial appraisal of her and the situation. “I’ll do what I can to help.”
“Thanks so much,” she whispered.
Right now those moist, ingenuous, lavender-blue orbs were looking at him with an expression akin to gratitude, nothing else.
Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe he’d just imagined that she’d been sending out signals earlier. To be honest, he didn’t know what to believe, but he felt it would be cruel to disregard her request when she’d worked so
