to class. I obsess. Sometimes I manage to sleep a little. There’s no time for out in that syllabus.”
Cora laughed. “I guess not. I almost forgot what that was like. I think when I was working on my Ph.D., I slept about nine hours a month.” The can of diet soda Becky handed her was coated in tiny shards of ice. Cora wiped it clean with a napkin before setting the can on her neatly organized desk. “The gentleman—and believe me, I apply the term loosely—is Rafael Adriano.”
Becky choked on a sip of her soda. “The Rafael Adriano?”
“I thought you didn’t get out much.”
“Jeez, I’d have to live in a hole not to know that name. I do read, you know. He’s, like, the hottest thing to hit the ocean since Jacques Cousteau.”
“Dr. Adriano is a bit flamboyant.”
“And sexy. Now that you mention it, I think I did see a picture of him in some magazine. I remember thinking that if I had time for hormones, I’d really be into this guy.” She tipped her head to one side. “What’s he in town for, anyway?”
Cora leaned back in her chair. “He wants to conduct some research. He’s looking for the site of the USS Isabela, and he thinks he can find it here.”
“Isabela?”
“It’s a ship from the Civil War—one of the fastest ever built. Juan Rodriguez del Flores captained it during the early years of the war. There’s some evidence to suggest he was a privateer who ran contraband for the Confederate and Union armies.”
“Both?”
“Whoever paid cash,” Cora assured her. “And when no one paid, he kept the booty for himself and his crew. If Adriano can find his ship and if it’s in any kind of decent condition, it might provide some invaluable information to Civil War historians.”
“So what’s he doing conducting your seminar on women’s fiction?”
A tiny smile played at the corner of her mouth. “Floundering, I hope.”
“I don’t think so.” Becky dropped into the chair across from Cora’s desk. “He’s drawing a crowd. Word is spreading across campus like wildfire, and your class is about to spill into the hall.”
“Great. I can’t get eighty-percent attendance for a scheduled session, and all he has to do is walk down the hall to have the masses falling at his feet.” A clamoring noise from the corridor captured her attention.
“Good grief.” Becky glanced over her shoulder. “What’s going on out there?”
“I think Blackbeard the archeologist is inciting the natives to riot.”
The door of her office was flung open. Rafael, followed by a large group of young women, edged his way in, then shut the door on the din. He gave Cora a disgruntled look. “Nicely played, Professor.”
Her only response was a slight inclination of her head. “I thought so.” She glanced at Becky. “Becky Painter, meet Rafael Adriano, world-famous archeologist and guest lecturer for women’s studies.”
Becky stuck out her hand. “Wow. You look taller.” Characteristically blunt, Becky glanced at his large frame. “And wider. The picture I saw of you was kind of small.”
He looked distinctly amused. He was accustomed, Cora supposed, to having women assess him. He enfolded Becky’s hand in his. “I’m delighted to meet you, Ms. Painter.”
Her students definitely had a point, Cora mused. That voice ought to be registered as a lethal weapon. He had the slightest hint of a foreign accent that made it just short of devastating. She’d read somewhere that English was his second language. The faint roll of his r’s gave his voice a purring quality that was pure sensuality. Cynically she wondered if he practiced that. Becky looked as if she might faint. “Becky, why don’t you see what you can do about the crowd in the hallway?”
Without looking at Cora, Becky slowly extracted her hand from his. “I, um, sure. Do you want anything, Dr. Adriano? A drink, maybe?”
That damnable smile played at the corner of his mouth again. He slanted Cora a look, then slowly shook his head. “No. I’m fine, Ms. Painter. All I need is some time alone with Dr. Prescott.”
Surprise flickered briefly on Becky’s expressive features, which then slipped into a mask of blatant curiosity. “Oh.”
Cora almost groaned out loud. If he stayed much longer, he’d create so much havoc she’d have to spend the next ten years digging her way out of it. “The hall, Becky. See what you can do about the noise.”
Becky blinked twice, then gave Cora a look that said she’d pursue the subject later. “Okay—” she reached for the door handle “—but let me know if you need anything.” With a final glance at Rafael, she eased past him. “Anything at all.”
When the door clicked shut behind her, an uneasy quiet settled on the tiny room. Suddenly the four walls were too confining. Cora turned abruptly to push open the window. “Why don’t you sit down? I can see you obviously didn’t read my last letter or you wouldn’t be here to—” With a final groan, the window popped open. A flood of humid air tumbled into the room. She dropped back into her chair. “You wouldn’t be here to harass me.”
His full lips curved into a slight smile. That, coupled with his black eye patch, made him look every inch the rake he was purported to be. “Is that what you call it?” he asked.
Cora placed her hands on her desk and drew a sense of calm from the cool wood surface. “What would you call it?”
“I’m persistent.” His broad shoulders moved in a casual shrug. “It makes me good at what I do.” He paused. “At everything I do.”
She chose to ignore that. “Then I’m sorry you came all this way, but I meant what I said in my last letter. I don’t have time for you to be digging about in my house this summer. I’ve got two classes to conduct each session, and my three nieces are here for an extended stay. You needn’t have wasted your valuable time making the trip. The answer is still no.”
His chuckle lingered in the warm air. “Very impressive, Professor. No wonder your colleagues have such respect for you.”
She frowned at him. “I’d appreciate it if you’d at least take this seriously.”
“I assure you, I’m very serious,” he retorted. “All I meant was that the professor who deftly stuck me with her class full of young women knows how to play a room.” He tilted his head to study her. “Jerry didn’t prepare me for you.”
“Jerry.” Inwardly she groaned. Jerry Heath was her department head. He was notorious for stirring up trouble. “You went over my head on this?”
He held up a hand. “It wasn’t like that. I’ve known Jerry professionally for some time. He lent his expertise to a research project for me several years ago. When you denied my request, I called Jerry to find out if a personal visit would further my chances of getting you to change your mind.”
“And he told you it would?”
“He told me I should meet
