Three Brides, No Groom (14 page)

Chapter 6

“T
hat’s it?” Maddie asked, incredulous.
“Clark actually let you leave?”

Carol nodded, and her gaze drifted across the square to the
Rusbach Science Building. The bronze plaque outside the building stated that
Clark Rusbach had donated the funds for the structure. He’d done well for
himself. Very well. His computer company was worth millions. Fifteen years
earlier he’d designed software, and these days his computer systems were known
worldwide.

“How sad,” Gretchen said, and gently squeezed Carol’s hand.

Carol hadn’t known either Gretchen or Maddie well in her
college days, and now she realized that had been her loss. She could have used
friends like them, then
and
now.

Even after all this time, the pain of that last confrontation
with Clark was fresh and sharp. She’d honestly believed, naive as she’d been
back then, that he had loved her. She’d believed he would take whatever measures
necessary to keep her in Seattle and in his life. Instead, he’d taught her one
of the most valuable lessons she’d ever learned.

“What about Eddie?”

“Yeah, Eddie,” Gretchen put in. “Did you have dinner with him
after all?”

“Oh, yes,” Carol whispered, and laughed at the memory. “Only it
didn’t turn out the way I’d planned.”

“The dress didn’t fit?”

“Oh, it fit just fine, but I was so miserable without Clark
that it was all I could do to even look at Eddie.”

“You fell in love with Clark, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” she said again. It amazed her how long it had taken
her to recognize what should have been apparent. Instead, she’d allowed her
experience with Eddie to cloud her judgment, and by the time she realized the
truth it was too late.

“Tell me what happened when you met Eddie,” Maddie insisted.
“Did he want you back?”

“I think so, but actually, I never gave him a chance to ask.
The entire evening was a disaster. All I could do was talk about Clark. It was
Clark this and Clark that, until Eddie tossed his napkin on the table and
claimed he wasn’t going to waste his time on a woman who was hung up on another
man.”

Both Gretchen and Maddie laughed.

“It serves him right,” Maddie said. “It feels good when someone
who’s done you wrong gets his comeuppance.”

A silence fell between them. “Are you speaking from
experience?” Gretchen asked.

“You could say that,” Maddie admitted reluctantly. “You
probably remember me as something of a bad girl. I said and did some outrageous
things in my college days, but I only did them to attract attention.”

Gretchen chuckled. “I seem to recall more than one of your
stunts. You were crazy, girl.”

“You can say that again,” Maddie said, and smiled. “But the
craziest trick I ever pulled was falling in love with John Theda.”

Gretchen remembered the rumors. It had caused quite a stir—a
student capturing the heart of a faculty member!

“Yup. I had one class with him and it was love at first sight.
I worked my butt off to gain his attention, and then we started seeing each
other on the sly.”

“Oh, Maddie.”

“I knew it wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but I was
in love. What can I say? He wanted to marry me—or so he claimed—and like a fool
I believed him. After I graduated it was a different story. He couldn’t get rid
of me fast enough.”

“He hurt you, didn’t he?”

Pain flashed in Maddie’s eyes. “Yes, I won’t lie about that. He
did hurt me, more than I thought it was possible for any man to hurt me.
Eventually I got back at him.”

“You did? How?” Maddie had Carol’s full attention.

“You sure you want to hear this?”

“I’m sure,” Gretchen said.

“Me too.” Carol wouldn’t miss this for the world. Professor
Theda had given her a C on a paper she’d written in order to get out of the
final. Eddie had handed in the exact same paper the following quarter—she’d let
him copy hers—and had been given an A. She would love hearing how the professor
got what he deserved.

Maddie’s Story

Chapter 1

M
addie Coolidge enjoyed her bad-girl image.
She thrived on letting others believe she was a sexual tigress on the prowl,
changing bed partners as often as she changed her underwear. Her clothes and
hair were outrageous. Her thick auburn curls plunged all the way down her back,
bouncing against her shapely buttocks. Her skintight pants and thigh-high
leather boots attracted plenty of attention, along with her more-than-adequate
bustline. That she had ended up at a classy private college was a fluke, a gift
from a rich uncle, although she let her classmates assume otherwise.

Maddie was thrilled by her notoriety. Men paid attention to
her, women envied her, and she lapped it up, becoming more and more outrageous.
That was until she met her Waterloo. Who would have believed that an
advanced-mathematics class would change her life? To be accurate, it wasn’t the
class but the man who taught it. John Theda. For the first time in her life
Maddie fell head over heels in love. Her college career had been marked with
average grades. She wasn’t stupid, but good grades conflicted with her image;
therefore she tended to downplay her brains.

Until she met John.

It hadn’t been easy to grab his attention. At first she’d done
everything but drape herself naked over the top of his desk. He wasn’t like the
other professors she’d known. They seemed old and stuffy. Not John. He was only
thirty, and handsome as sin. Half the females in class were in love with him,
and the ones who weren’t were either brain-dead or blind. It was a wonder any of
them managed to keep their minds focused on the subject matter.

Because he was outgoing and friendly, John flirted effortlessly
with his students, refusing to play favorites. After class the women would flock
around his desk like bees seeking nectar. Unlike the others, Maddie realized
such obvious tactics wouldn’t work, so she bided her time and found far more
subtle methods of calling attention to herself. Instead of revealing her
interest in John, she cozied up to the subject matter itself. Clearly
mathematics was a subject near and dear to his heart. If she was going to have
any success with the man himself, she had to play his game. And play she did, as
if her very life depended on it.

She studied as she never had before, poring over books,
memorizing everything she could. She’d always been good with numbers and
mathematical theories and concepts. To her, mathematics was poetry without
words. Numbers were precise, rational and real, much easier to understand than
people. Numbers she understood. Numbers weren’t unreasonable. Numbers were
fun.

Before long she had top marks. Still John Theda didn’t reveal
an iota of interest in her. By the middle of the term, she was convinced nothing
she said or did could attract him.

But she was wrong.

Her final plan of action was to dazzle him with how well she
did on the midterm exam, the biggest test of the year so far. She studied half
the night, falling asleep at her desk in the early-morning hours. To her horror
she overslept and then had to race around like a madwoman, arriving late for the
test. Breathless, her hair a mass of curls, wearing the same clothes she’d worn
the previous day, she crashed into the classroom convinced she’d blown it.
Everyone else was sitting at their desks huddled protectively over the exam
sheets. Their heads swiveled to her as if she’d purposely disrupted them. She
even thought she heard someone whisper about her being up half the night with
some guy. Her own fault, she thought, for going out of her way to give people
that impression of her behavior.

Standing in the doorway of the classroom, she looked to John
for guidance. He smiled sweetly, told her to sit down and handed her a test. The
first page was easy. Kid stuff. She whizzed through that, and the second sheet,
as well. Then she hit a wall. The last page consisted of one problem.

She read it once. Twice. Three times, and then felt herself
starting to panic. Closing her eyes, she cleared her mind and focused all her
energy and reasoning abilities on the problem. By the time the period was nearly
over, she was the only student left in the room.

With one eye on the clock and another on the empty sheet in
front of her, she bit into her lower lip, hating to turn in an incomplete test.
The others had gotten it, obviously—and easily, too, apparently.

Then it came to her. The method, the answer, the theory.
Scribbling as fast as her fingers would allow, she worked out the problem, then
handed the completed test to John with a full thirty seconds to spare.

To her delight and—after that last problem—complete surprise,
her plan worked. John sought her out a few days later, complimented her on her
impeccable work and on passing the midterm, and invited her to coffee at an
out-of-the-way café. They saw each other frequently from that point forward.

Because he wasn’t a full professor yet, and because the school
would have frowned on any professor dating a student, they kept their growing
relationship a secret. He claimed to hate it as much as she did. Meeting on the
sly, pretending they meant nothing to each other, was hell for them both,
especially once he asked her to marry him. As graduation grew nearer, she found
it impossible to hold the news of their engagement inside her any longer. The
rumors had been running rampant for weeks, anyway.

She told Janice Hailey, a sorority sister. After that, the news
spread like wildfire across campus. People she hadn’t spoken to in all four
years stopped and asked her if it was true. Maddie refused to lie, so she only
smiled mysteriously. Her sorority sisters were less surprised. They had already
guessed she was in love; they said she glowed with happiness. And she
was
happy, blissfully so. Although John had never said
anything to her about the way she dressed, she knew that as a professor’s wife
she would need to tone down her flamboyant style. She was willing to do whatever
was necessary to be the kind of wife who would make him proud. That knowledge
alone told her how much she loved him.

John, however, wasn’t pleased when he learned what she’d done.
They routinely met at his place when he was finished with his classes for the
day. She hurried there and found him pacing the kitchen, waiting for her.

“You couldn’t have waited until after graduation?” he demanded,
slapping his hand on the table. He hit it hard enough to upset the napkin
holder.

She flinched, and then, because she realized she should have
talked it over with him first, she apologized. “I’m sorry, but I only told
Janice.” Of course, she had knowingly chosen the one person in her sorority
house who didn’t know how to keep a secret. But in her defense, after months of
sneaking around on the sly, she was tired of games. Tired of excuses.

“You could get me fired,” he said, walking to the kitchen sink
and staring out the window.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed the side of
her face against his back. “Don’t be mad, Honeybun.” He loved her nickname for
him. If anything would get him out of his bad mood, it was a little baby talk
and some tender loving attention.

“What am I supposed to do if Dean Williams hears about
this?”

It didn’t sound like much of a problem to Maddie. “Marry me
sooner.” She wrapped her calf around his thigh and slid her bare foot down the
inside of his leg. She felt him tense, and she knew he was fighting the strong
physical attraction between them. If past experience was any indication, it
wouldn’t be long before he forgave her. She decided to make it easy for him to
absolve her of her sins. It took some doing, but she managed to get him out of
his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Then she spread moist kisses across his naked
chest. He smelled of cologne, but tasted salty and sweaty. His hands bit into
her shoulders.

He kissed her hard, and she kissed him back, arching against
him. This was better, much much better.

Then, without warning, he pushed her up against the wall so
hard she could hardly breathe. But she didn’t care, giving herself over to his
masterful lovemaking. But that, too, had changed. His mouth was hard, angry,
painfully so.

“Johnny,” she whimpered, twisting her face away from his.
“You’re hurting me.”

“Good.”

His response shocked her into stillness. Her arms fell limply
at her sides as she attempted to convince herself she’d misunderstood him.

“You’re a fool. Did you know that?” He laughed harshly, the
sound echoing in her ear like distant thunder.

“What’s wrong?” she pleaded. “Tell me what’s wrong!”

“You. That’s what’s wrong. Get out.”

If he’d stunned her before, this last comment paralyzed her
with shock and disbelief. This was John, her Honeybun. He’d never talked to her
like this, never raised his voice to her, never said or done anything to hurt
her.

Backing away, he rammed his fingers through his hair. He
surveyed her, and his gaze held undisguised contempt, as if merely having her in
his home was more than he could tolerate.

“What is it?” she asked, fighting back tears. “Tell me what
I’ve done that’s so wrong.”

“Everything,” he answered with a sneer. “Now get out.”

Pride rescued her. “Fine,” she said, reaching for her boots.
Before long she was outside. Hardly aware of the fresh sweet air, scented with
cherry blossoms and sunshine, she walked back to campus as quickly as she
could.

Instead of returning to the sorority house, she found an
isolated shady spot under a fir tree and sat, hoping to collect her chaotic
thoughts. John’s behavior made no sense. Until now, he’d been loving, gentle and
good-natured.

True, she’d broken her word by letting Janice know they were
engaged, but graduation was less than three days away. It shouldn’t matter if
anyone knew they were in love. Especially now. For all intents and purposes,
classes were over. Graduation was a formality.

She closed her eyes. He had made her feel dirty and ugly. The
cool grass and the gentle breeze off Puget Sound helped ease the ache in her
heart.

Three seniors strolled past, and she defiantly raised her chin.
She knew one of them. Steve Malcom had made numerous attempts to date her.
Because she was involved with John, she hadn’t been interested. Even if she
hadn’t been dating John, Steve wouldn’t have interested her.

Unfortunately he couldn’t take no for an answer. He had a
reputation as a ladies’ man, and her rejection had tarnished his image. A friend
had warned her recently that he had promised to make her his final college
conquest.

The last thing she needed just then was to deal with his
wounded libido. Despite her lack of welcome, Steve broke away from his friends
and headed in her direction.

She groaned inwardly, but rather than lower her gaze, she met
his in open defiance. He had an irritating way about him, but, she silently
promised herself, she wouldn’t allow him to dent her composure, even though she
was vulnerable and confused.

His gaze slid over her appreciatively. His look made her
uneasy, but she said nothing.

“Sweetie pie, what are you doing here all by yourself?” he
asked.

“Enjoying the solitude.”

“I’ve come to help you,” he said, leaning against the tree
trunk, his hands buried in his pockets. He crossed his ankles in the practiced
pose of someone modeling for a catalog.

If she hadn’t been so miserable, she might have laughed, but
her head and heart ached, and she needed to reason out what had happened with
John.

“Is it true?” Steve asked.

She looked at him and blinked, her thoughts racing like a
hamster on an exercise wheel. “Is what true?”

“That you and John Theda are engaged?”

In light of what had happened earlier, she wasn’t sure how to
answer. She neither confirmed nor denied the rumor. “It could be,” she
returned.

“Either you are or you aren’t,” he pressed.

“Let’s put it in terms you can understand, then,” she offered.
“It’s none of your business.”

He laughed sharply. “That’s what I thought. A mathematics
professor isn’t your type. Oh, he might let you think so, seeing the benefits
you offer,” he added, snickering. “But you’re not the marrying kind, and Theda
knows it.”

That did it. She roared to her feet, knotting her hands into
fists at her sides, forgetting her resolve to not allow him to rile her. “I love
John, and he loves me. We’re going to be married as soon as I graduate.”

“Really?” He made it sound like one big joke.

“Really!” Her tone held an equal measure of confidence.

“You and a math professor.” He laughed and shook his head.

“I don’t need your approval, and neither does John.” Anger
burned inside her, but she wasn’t going to let Steve know that. Her composure
was partially back, and she pretended he was nothing more than a pest she was
forced to endure. Fortunately he would soon be gone.

He rubbed the side of his jaw as if giving the idea serious
consideration. “You know, you’ve got me curious.”

She had no intention of asking him what had piqued his
interest. She’d endured quite enough of this mindless conversation, and she
turned away.

To her surprise, he captured her arm and pulled her toward him.
Her own momentum sent her body colliding against his. Without giving her a
chance to recover, he kissed her, rubbing his unpleasantly moist lips against
hers.

It required one swiftly delivered jab to the right area to
convince Steve Malcom to release her. Unwilling to wait and give him an
opportunity to repeat his assault, she reeled away from him and hurried across
the campus.

She hadn’t gone far, head down and walking as fast as her feet
would carry her, when she literally ran into Brent Holliday, another senior.
Mumbling an apology, she hurriedly crossed the lawn toward the sorority house.
As she walked, she felt his disapproval burning a hole in her back.