Free A Flower for Angela by Sandra Leesmith Page B

of knowing."
    "But at least you know you taught it." He stood and blocked her path.
    "Did I, though?" She stared up at the face looming above hers, willing him to understand and ordering her senses to ignore his nearness. "If they don't need to learn it, they won't. So I've wasted my time and theirs."
    "But most of them probably will learn it."
    "I can't gamble with their minds. My way tells me they did learn what they need to know." In protest, she placed the palms of her hands on his arms. "They want the information. They use it and internalize it. Don't you see how essential that is?"
    Tanned fingers reached up to cover hers and press her hands closer. The rising temperature of his skin penetrated the smooth fabric of his plaid sports shirt.
    "Angela," he murmured.
    All arguments in defense of her teaching vanished. Awareness that she was even a teacher disappeared.
    For several minutes, Ricardo hadn't heard a word she had spoken. Oh, he’d been listening and he had filed away her comments for future consideration. But at this moment, all he could think about was fire.
    She reminded him of a white-hot blaze. In a flash, she would flare up in defense of her students or her teaching. But when he whispered her name just now, her eyes smoldered. Underneath her professional demeanor and her angry protectiveness, there burned a passion that he wanted to know intimately.
    Now was not the moment. Here was not the place. Not in her classroom. But watching her move and speak with such fervor had disturbed him. He'd wanted to stop her restless motion by pulling her into his arms. That he’d been able to resist that urge at all had amazed even him. But when she had placed her slender fingers on his arms, all adherence to the rules of propriety and timing was lost. He wanted—no, needed— to touch her.
    "You drive me crazy," he whispered.
    Wrapping his fingers around her hands, he pulled her body closer to his. Her weak struggles were easy to overpower. She gave in and stopped inches from him. Not daring to move, he stood still, breathing in the fragrance of her perfume.
    "We can't do this." Her voice reached him, breathless and quavering.
    "I know. Just stand here—close—for a moment," he promised, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. He wondered if she could hear the way his heart pounded.
    "The students…” Her voice trailed away.
    "Maybe Carlos will whisk us away in his magic spaceship." He heaved a wistful sigh before he let her go.
    "It would be our luck that he'd whisk the whole class away with us."
    "Ugh. What a cruel turn of mind you have."
    She smiled. The tinge of pink that flushed her skin revealed that she was as disconcerted as he was. He reached out a finger to touch her cheek, wanting to feel her heat, but she turned aside and walked toward the door.
    "It's time to pick up the students. I'll be back," she assured him.
    Stunned by the powerful effect she had on him, Ricardo didn’t move for a moment after she left. He imagined lazy afternoons beside the pool in her courtyard—the sun would warm their bodies while the look in her eyes would inflame his senses.
    He began to pace about the classroom. Traces of Angela were evident everywhere. Why couldn't he stop thinking about her? Why did he desire her so strongly?
    Other women had never affected him to such an extent. They had attracted him, often. But they had never distracted him from his work. Whereas thoughts of Angela drifted into his mind even while he was immersed in a story.
    That hadn't happened with Yvonne. In the years he had lived with her, she hadn’t invaded his thoughts as Angela had these past few weeks. Yvonne had been a reporter and they had decided it would be unrealistic for them to marry. The decision proved wise after Yvonne received an offer to anchor a newscast back east. In all honesty, he had to admit that he hadn't really missed Yvonne—and especially not now.
    Angela had somehow managed to capture his heart and mind. One smile from