Daniel
Goodman is one of a set of triplets—natural, identical triplets, a
rare kind of birth. He is a serious man, often feeling estranged from
his wild and carefree brother Jonah and his free-spirited parents.
He's also distanced from his other brother Mark, a genius who might
or might not realize that he's unlike most other people and doesn't
seem to care.
Daniel
Goodman is a man on a mission. For years he has striven for
perfection, fighting for the pinnacle achievement in his world of
academia, Headmaster of Westover Academy. Westover, established
before the American Revolution, is still one of the most prestigious
schools in the country. They accept only boys whose parents fit a
certain mold and only those teachers who hold to a stringent set of
mores, on and off campus. Jonah considers his brother a prig. Daniel
sees himself as doing his best to serve his students. How much better
can he serve them as headmaster? That is what he seeks to find out.
Suddenly,
into his cut and dried, strictly black and white life of moral and
upright behavior, comes Eve Star, formerly one of Europe's foremost
exotic dancers. Her life is anything but cut and dried, black and
white. Bad enough that she's enrolled her son in Westover Academy
under false pretenses. More, she runs the town's most disreputable
bar. Worst, much to Daniel's dismay, he finds himself drawn to her
like a kid to chocolate. Nothing good can come of this attraction. Or
can it? He is after all, a good man.
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Excerpt
Daniel
walked into the parlor of the headmaster’s house Saturday afternoon
seeking first the food table and second, his friend, Stan Baxter. He
spotted them both near the front window.
“You’re
late,” Stan said.
“Lots
of people wanted to chat.” Parents’ Weekend, when teachers sat in
their classrooms to meet their students’ mothers and fathers, meant
mandatory tea afterwards for all professionals at the Academy. Board
members and parents attended at their own discretion, and the
boys—the reason the school existed and they were all there—mostly
stayed out of sight and hearing.
“Fortunately
for me, a good many parents now have grabbed their progeny and left
campus, so I have access to the snacks unimpeded,” Daniel said,
examining the finger food on display before making his selections.
The challenge was always how to load his plate while appearing to
take a socially acceptable portion. “Did I miss anything?”
“Only
an angel.” Stan turned toward the window.. “Holy Mother! Look at
that,” he muttered.
“What?”
Daniel asked, fitting a cucumber sandwich beside the smoked
salmon-topped cracker on his dessert plate. “Am I missing a table
of fare? I swear, every year the offerings at these teas are more
meager than the last.”
Stan
chuckled and answered in the same low voice, “Is your stomach all
you think about? I was talking about another kind of dish. One you
can have fun eating in bed, if you catch my drift. And she just
slipped out onto the lawn.”
“Is
your libido all you think about?” Daniel bit a carrot stick
in two and sighed. Only three more hours and he could order a pizza.
With all of his charges gone from the dormitory for Parents’
Weekend, he had a rare, private, two-day holiday ahead of him. With
the tiny plate full, he joined Stan at the large windows. “Where is
this goddess?”
“There.
In the red dress and hat.”
Daniel
saw nothing but the shapely form of a woman walking away. Slender
ankles topped three inch heels. A dress of some kind of lustrous
material hit her mid-calf. The style was soft and feminine, and berry
red. Not many women showed up at Westover in a color sure to make
them the focus of attention. Not that most of them didn’t expect to
be the focus—didn’t demand it, in fact—but they usually
weren’t so obvious. The breeze at her back molded the material to
the curves of her hips and ass, and fluttered the dress’s full
sleeves. A wide-brimmed hat hid her hair, but based on what was
visible, Daniel easily imagined a long column of neck designed for
kissing.
“If
the rest of her matches the back view, you’ve got reason to be
drooling down the front of your gown.”
Frowning,
Stan glanced down as though to make sure the drool comment was only
facetious. “Can’t afford to drool on this. I had to use my tax
refund to pay for the thing and show off my Master’s chevrons. I
don't know how you afforded to pay for your Ph.D. paraphernalia.”
“The
new degree looks sharp on you. Now, why are you mooning over a woman
you see at the headmaster’s tea, when you know she’s some
student’s mother and off limits?”
“She
looks young enough to be a sister, so it’s not a given she’s out
of bounds.”
At
that moment, a young boy wearing the school uniform and a big grin
ran up to the woman. She bent to catch him in her arms. When she
straightened, she ruffled the boy’s hair. His expression and his
wagging finger showed that he chastised her, but then he laughed and
finger-combed the mussed hair back into place. She took his hand and
they walked toward the circle where most of the parents parked.
Looking up at the woman, the boy’s lips moved the whole while,
carrying on a steady monologue.
Something
in her actions captured Daniel’s attention. They were artless,
performed naturally and with unabashed love. The child fairly skipped
beside her and the frequent turns of her head showed she looked at
him as though hanging on every word he spoke.
“How
wonderful,” Daniel murmured, impressed with her total attention to
the boy. “Did you see that?”
“Oh,
yeah. I didn’t think her hips would ever stop swaying, and it’s a
crime they make hemlines so long.”
Daniel
laughed. “You’re such a hedonist.”
“And
proud of it. But you were right. Looks like she’s a student’s
mother after all. Damn the luck.”
For
once, Daniel agreed with his friend. But not just because of the
woman’s obvious good figure. More because she seemed to love her
son and didn’t care who knew it. He normally kept his distance from
flashy women, as this one appeared to be, based on her dress color,
but her easy manner with the boy would be enough to make him ignore
his own inclination toward the conservative. If she weren’t
also a patron of the school. Assuming the gods smiled on him and he
became headmaster, he and the woman would be on business terms, and
nothing good ever came from mixing business with pleasure. Pleasure
is what every male instinct in him screamed she would be.
About
the Author
A
few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the
morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in
love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they
had sex, lots of sex. Writing was so much fun Dee decided to keep at
it. That's how she spends her days. Her nights? Well, she's lucky
that her dream man, childhood sweetheart, and long-time hubby are all
the same guy, and nights are their secret. For romance ranging from
sweet to historical, contemporary to paranormal and more join Dee on
Nomad Authors. Contact Dee at dsknight@deesknight.com.
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