Watcher

Sexual Studies 1

Watcher

Jana Johnson is not interested in dating a younger man, even if it is the hot graduate student everyone has dubbed The Incredible Quinn. His good looks aside, he's just too young, and besides, she has worked hard to have a settled, orderly life.

Jake Quinn does have an agenda. He wants to convince the gorgeous Dr. Johnson to give him just one chance. When the break comes, he takes it, and the results are beyond his wildest fantasies. The only trouble is the lady in question is still reluctant to date someone younger, and besides, he has an uneasy feeling that something else might be going on.

In fact, he is certain there is someone watching them...

Sensuality Rating:
SCORCHING

Genre:
Erotic Romantic Suspense/May-December

Length:
Novel

WATCHER

Sexual Studies 1

Kate Watterson

EROTIC ROMANCE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

ABOUT THIS E-BOOK:
Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to
one
LEGAL
copy for your own personal use. It is
ILLEGAL
to send your copy to someone who did not pay for it. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book.

WATCHER

Copyright © 2007 by Katherine Smith

ISBN: 1-933563-54-0

First E-book Publication: May 2007

Cover design by Jinger Heaston

All cover art and logo copyright © 2007 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

WATCHER

Sexual Studies 1

KATE WATTERSON

Copyright © 2007

A warm tear rolled down her cheek and fell on her hand. Jana Johnson stared at it for a moment, trying to will away the thickness in her throat. She didn’t cry often, she wasn’t the crying type, and where the sudden urge had come from she didn’t know.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true.

It was her anniversary. Or more accurately, it
would
have been.

Another droplet fell in a small symbolic splash.

“Dr. Johnson?”

She stiffened, realizing that the door to her office had been pushed open. Hastily, she brushed at her damp cheek and kept her face averted. “Yes?”

“Sorry to bother you, but can I borrow your key to the supply closet? Professor Lawrence has already left for the day and I somehow managed to leave mine at home.” Jake Quinn, the graduate student who ran the molecular biology lab, strolled in, operating on the reasonable assumption she would say yes.

Even though she didn’t look up as she reached for the drawer where she kept her university keys, she felt it the moment he noticed something was wrong. Quickly, she fumbled through the 6

Kate Watterson

labels, found the one he wanted and extended her hand. “Here you go, I’m leaving for the day soon, so just give it back to me tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday.”

So it was, and she felt a little idiotic. “Monday will be fine then.”

He stood by her chair. She could see out of the corner of her eye his long legs clad in blue jeans, battered tennis shoes, and the hem of his lab coat. Unfortunately, he made no move to take the key and leave. “Are you okay?”

There didn’t seem much choice and she glanced up and nodded briskly. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“The tears make that a debatable point.” He gazed at her with those sexy dark eyes that made all the undergrad female students act like complete idiots whenever they were in his vicinity. Tall, athletic, and undeniably good-looking, behind his back he’d been christened ‘The Incredible Quinn’ or I.Q., and considering he was an instructor in a lower level cell biology class besides his lab duties, that normally not-very-popular subject had some record enrollment this semester.

However, she was not a giggling freshman, and I.Q. could take his bedroom eyes and go. She really didn’t want to talk to anyone and hoped he wouldn’t mention to another soul that she’d been sitting in her office, wallowing in tears. “I’m fine,” she repeated firmly.

To her chagrin, he went down on his haunches next to her chair so they were closer to eye to eye. Muscular arms rested on his knees. “Can I help?”

“No.” She was brusque to the point of outright rudeness.

“I beg to differ.” He had a very nice smile that crinkled the corners of those beautiful eyes. “We seem to have a small mascara issue.”

“What?”

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In answer, he took the balled up tissue from her hand and very gently wiped just above her right cheekbone. “That’s better.”

With as much dignity as possible, Jana said, “Thank you.”

“Want to talk about it?”

She could faintly smell his cologne, and the width of his shoulders at this close proximity was impressive. Since he didn’t work for her, she didn’t know him except casually, and she wasn’t eager to discuss the sudden breakdown anyway. It was foolish to begin with because Brian had been dead for two years and she really had adjusted to life without him.

Occasionally, though, it just hit home he was gone and she was alone.

“No,” she said truthfully, but he was being nice, so she managed a wobbly smile and a reluctant explanation. “Today would have been my fifteenth wedding anniversary. I found a card in my desk from my husband that I’d forgotten was there. It reminded me and, well, that’s it. No big drama, just a memory.”

“Oh yeah, I see. Ouch.” He still didn’t straighten, but shook his head slightly. Thick dark hair, worn a little long brushed his collar.

“Who could blame you for a tear or two?”

“I’m going to go home and have a stiff drink,” Jana told him wryly. “Maybe more than one, and that should cure the whole thing.”

Finally, he stood up. “The proverbial drowning of the sorrows?

That’s an excellent idea, but not all alone. Have one with me instead. I’m buying, Professor.”

The very last thing she expected was that invitation.

Nonplussed, she stared at him. Then she said facetiously, “Are you old enough?”

“Hey, I’m twenty-five.” One dark brow went up in reproof, but he grinned.

“I was kidding.” She shook her head. “I think it’s very nice of you to offer, but you’re a student and—”

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Kate Watterson

“I’m a PhD grad student in his last year, and I have a teaching position, so what’s the problem? It’s just a drink, after all. If you can give me a minute or two, I’ll shut up the lab and we’ll go. I’ll be right back.”

He vanished out the door and Jana stifled a small laugh at how smoothly it was done. She really should still refuse. Well, though, he did have a point, it was just a drink between two colleagues.

Certainly most women would prefer a drink with a gorgeous young man like the Incredible Quinn than a lonely cold house and an evening avoiding the past.

Automatically she picked up her purse, took out her compact and repaired another small streak of wayward mascara, and got up to get her coat. By the time she locked the door to her office, Jake Quinn was back, this time his broad shoulders covered with a leather jacket. He said, “It’s cool out now so if you want to drive that’s fine, but we could probably walk.”

Maybe a short walk would help ease her slight headache from that unwanted burst of emotion. “Let’s walk,” Jana agreed, still a little amused and disbelieving that she was even doing it. “There are certainly plenty of bars close to campus, but you’ll know them better than I do.”

“I really don’t drink much,” he said as he politely opened the door for her and motioned her through, “that I left behind when I applied to run the lab. It isn’t conducive to working with a hangover. Let’s go to Lenny’s if you don’t have a preference.”

She didn’t. It wasn’t like she even went out anymore. “That’s fine.”

* * * *

Finally
.
Oh man, finally.

He really couldn’t blow this. Jake fingered his glass, letting his fingers run down the sides through the condensation, wondering
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just what to say. Usually he was comfortable enough around women he didn’t even think about it, but this was just a little different. He was having a drink with the entirely remote, standoffish, cool Professor Johnson.

My God, she was gorgeous. He admired the glossy fall of dark hair that swung perfectly at her shoulders, striking dark blue eyes, and an ivory, pale complexion that served to emphasize her vivid coloring. Her features were feminine and strikingly delicate, with high cheekbones, a straight nose, and dark arched brows. She was one of the few women he knew he would describe as actually beautiful.

Not to mention her body. Willowy, full in the right places, and slender in the others. At this particular moment she wore a cashmere sweater and dark skirt, both tasteful, conservative, and all too concealing.

Naked, he guessed she’d be something to remember, and he would love to find out. But word had it she was as unapproachable as the moon, even though she had been widowed now for over two years. Several of the other professors had tentatively made overtures and no one had gotten anywhere. That was believable, because she was one of the most singularly self-possessed women he had ever met. Maybe it was that cool exterior that turned him on, but whatever it was, since the very first time he’d seen her, he’d been interested.

Actually, he'd been extremely interested. Yes, she was probably about ten years older, but that didn’t bother him, quite the opposite. He liked the idea.

“…University of Michigan?”

Jake glanced up, a little abstracted, and hoped she hadn’t noticed him studying the way the soft material of her sweater molded to her breasts. They were shapely and high, the fullness enhanced by her slim waist. “Excuse me?”

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Kate Watterson

“Larry said that’s where you did your undergrad degree.” She looked at him over the rim of her martini glass. Her order had surprised him. With her overt femininity, he had expected white wine, not a gin martini. Maybe the missed anniversary called for something a little stronger.

“Oh, yeah.” He took a quick sip of his dark beer and inwardly cursed himself for not being smoother. “I’m from Mt. Pleasant, near Lansing. It was a natural choice.”

Her eyes were a deep sapphire color, framed by long lashes and just the smallest smudge of errant eyeliner from her earlier breakdown. Her cosmetics were as understated as the rest of her and apparently not much needed. For a woman in her mid to late thirties, she had smooth, perfect skin and the soft pink of her mouth was only emphasized by a little touch of gloss. “Good school.”