Born to Be Wilde

Chapter Five

IT was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon when Sydney arrived at Cassie's high school for her conference with Cassie's math teacher. She'd left her daughter at home, mainly because she wanted to know what was going on with Cassie without any ready excuses or interruptions during her meeting with Daniel Barnett. She wanted direct and uncensored information so she could decide how to get Cassie back on track-pronto.

She entered through the school's main gates and followed the directions Cassie had given her to Building C. She passed through the quad area, and other than seeing a few teenagers and staff on campus, the place was fairly deserted, which made sense, since it was Friday and the start of the weekend for teachers and students.

Finding the two-story structure, she entered the quiet building and headed down the long corridor toward the math wing, the sound of her heeled boots echoing in the hallway. Her gaze took in the rows of metal lockers lining the corridor, the glass case filled to capacity with student awards, and the colorful posters taped to the walls announcing an upcoming dance.

A dull, disconcerting sensation settled in the pit of her stomach, and she tried to shake it off. It wasn't the first time she'd been to Cassie's high school and walked the halls, yet doing so never failed to bring back memories of her own teenage years and how very difficult and painful high school had been for her.

As a freshman, she'd not only had the stigma of being a foster kid who wore used and outdated clothes purchased at the Salvation Army, but being a fourteen-year-old pregnant teen living in a halfway house made her the target of gossip, ridicule, and scorn. No one cared to know the circumstances of her past, or her pregnancy-they only chose to believe that she was a tramp and a whore, and the kind of girl that would screw any guy interested in getting into her pants.

But what hurt more than the rude stares and whispers behind her back was the fact that the boy who'd taken her virginity and fathered her baby, her own foster brother, had only reinforced the notion that she was a slut who put out, and that made her the target of unwanted advances from other guys, as well. The only person who'd remained a true friend through those four torturous years had been Lora Marshall. Sydney knew she never would have made it to graduation without her best friend's love, support, and understanding.

High school had been nothing more than a means to an end for Sydney. Despite how hard it had been to raise a toddler during those years and still maintain a B average, she'd been driven to get her education and be more than her heroin-addicted mother had amounted to. She'd also been fiercely determined to give Cassie the kind of life and unconditional love that she, herself, had grown up without.

As for Tim Carson, the guy who'd fathered Cassie-a boy that Sydney had truly believed had loved her and who had said all the right words to get her to have sex with him-well, he'd denied any part in her pregnancy. And his mother and father, Sydney's foster parents, had immediately thought the worst and accused her of trying to trap their son by claiming the child was his. Then they'd promptly given her back to the state to deal with. Since no one wanted the responsibility or hassle of taking in a knocked-up teen, she'd been assigned to a state-run halfway house for unwed mothers.

Her memories of her teenage years weren't fond ones, but she'd learned a whole lot of hard, emotional lessons during high school, and especially from Tim Carson. He'd been the first to teach her that guys took one look at her voluptuous body and curves and wanted only one thing: to fuck her. It had been a perpetual occurrence in her life when it came to men, but instead of allowing the situation to make her bitter, she'd learned to use her sensuality and seductive figure to her own advantage. To get what she wanted, too-whether it had to do with business or her own physical pleasure. Her decision had served her very well over the years, not only putting her firmly in control of any sexual situation, but also allowing her to keep emotions out of the equation.

She refused to let any man exploit her the way that Tim Carson had. When she went out with a guy, she knew exactly what she was getting into. To that end, she preferred to date men who were out for a good time and nothing more. She had a daughter to raise and a bar to keep successful in order to pay off her business loan, and she didn't want or need the distraction of entanglements or attachments getting in the way of her priorities. Which wasn't an issue since she never let a man get close enough to threaten her emotions.

Arriving at Daniel Bamett's classroom, she inhaled a deep breath to regain her composure and redirected her focus to why she was here today. Because of Cassie, and to discuss any potential problems that her daughter was having with math.

She opened the door, stepped inside, and found Daniel standing at the front of the room. His back was to her as he wrote the following Monday's class assignment on the chalkboard, and he gave her a quick glance over his shoulder, and added a polite, "I'll be with you in a minute," before finishing up his task.

As he jotted down page numbers and a note to the class that there would be a test at the end of the week, she casually strolled her way toward his desk. A moment later, he dropped the chalk into a tray and turned around to face her. Her mouth quirked as she took in Mr. Preppy's attire-with his navy chinos, long-sleeved button-up shirt, and matching tie, he was the epitome of a conservative, traditional type of guy. The kind she wouldn't normally give a second glance because he was so opposite of the rough-and-tumble bad boys that normally drew her eye.

Yet she had to admit that Daniel Baraett was very nice looking, in a clean cut, polished sort of way. There was no denying his wide shoulders and a lean body he obviously kept in shape. His thick, dark blond hair was cut short and neat, and his features were nicely chiseled. His eyes were a warm shade of brown that reminded her of the fine whiskey she served at the bar, or rich caramel, depending on how the light reflected off his irises, and he had a mouth that was decidedly sensual and prompted her thoughts to stray down a very naughty path she had no business traveling with this particular man.

"Hi, Sydney," he said, and extended his hand toward her as a friendly smile curved the lips she'd just fantasized about. "Thanks for coming in. I appreciate it."

"Of course." She shook his hand, all too aware of the heat of his large palm against hers, and how long and strong his fingers felt wrapped around her hand. In contrast to his undeniable masculinity, she almost felt delicate… when she was anything but.

She pushed the ridiculous notion from her mind and kept her thoughts strictly on business. "Nothing is more important than my daughter and her education, Mr. Barnett." And she was determined to make sure that Cassie had every advantage, and the grades to get accepted to a reputable university. Sydney might have scratched, clawed, stripped, and slept her way to being able to open her own business because she'd lacked any type of college degree, but her daughter would hopefully never, ever have to stoop to that kind of level. Not if Sydney could help it.

"Call me Daniel, please." He rounded his desk and pushed aside papers and textbooks on it in search of something. "I have to say, if all my parents had your same positive attitude and showed more interest in their kids' academic achievements, my job would be so much easier and far more enjoyable."

She shook her head, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "I can't even imagine how difficult it must be to teach a classroom of hormonal, moody, and temperamental teenagers." Considering she could barely handle Cassie's mood swings, the thought made her shudder.

He glanced up at her and chuckled, a warm, deep sound that did funny things to her insides. "It's definitely a challenge. If I didn't love math so much I would have quit my first year, which was pure hell, and followed in my brother's and father's footsteps and joined the family medical practice. Except I'm not that great when it comes to blood and guts, and stitches and shots make me queasy." He pressed a hand to his stomach and grimaced.

This time, she laughed, because it wasn't often that a man admitted to such a weakness. "Well, if you do ever quit, you can always come to work for me as a bartender at The Electric Blue."

He lifted an inquiring brow, bringing her attention to the amusement glimmering in the depths of his eyes. "Don't the workers dance on the counters and tabletops there?"

"Yeah, they do." She bit the inside of her cheek, unable to imagine a reserved guy like Daniel shaking it for the crowd. She was guessing he came from a blue-blooded type of family who preferred the exclusivity of a posh, upscale country club over a loud, rowdy bar. "It's part of the job description. You've got to be willing to be a little uninhibited."

"Ahhh, it's a tempting offer, but I'm much more comfortable holding a calculator and textbook than juggling bottles of beer and liquor, not to mention the whole dancing thing," he said, and picked up a file folder he found beneath a pile of papers. "I'm an analytical, problem-solving kind of guy, and the whole bump-and-grind scenario just isn't my thing. At least not in public, anyway." Grinning, he winked at her, then started for a small table and chairs set up in the corner of the room.

She stared after him for a moment before following, uncertain whether she was more shocked at his sense of humor, or the fact that he'd just openly flirted with her.

She sat down in the chair across from him and put her purse on the table, recalling Lora's comment about the possibility of Daniel being interested in her. Okay, so maybe he was attracted to her, especially if she took into account the way his gaze had briefly dropped to her full breasts, clearly outlined in her snug blue sweater, before he averted his eyes to the papers in the file he'd brought with him.

His reaction and quick glance at her chest certainly didn't surprise her. She was used to the blatant stares, the bold and unabashed ogling. With men, it always came down to her physical appearance, and the fact that she had a body built for down-and-dirty sex. And Daniel, being a man, was no different, except for the fact that he was more subtle about checking out her curves than most.

Too bad for him, he truly wasn't her type at all, because she was certain he'd be a fun, temporary romp to end her own dry spell. However, he'd revealed just enough about himself in the past ten minutes since her arrival for her to know that their lifestyles were as different as night and day. A nice, conservative teacher and a wild, anything-goes bar owner just didn't mix, in her opinion.

"About Cassie," he said, getting back to the reason why she was there. "I wanted to show you her work over the past month and a half of school, from the first week in September to this week's review test." He laid out a series of papers for her to look at and compare. "Here, as you can see, she started out the school year with a good grasp of what she was learning. But in the past three and a half weeks, her test scores have dropped substantially. From high As to mid Cs."

As Sydney took in her daughter's decreasing grades, she felt her stomach drop. The decline was startling, and disconcerting, especially since Cassie had always done very well in her math classes.

Daniel's gaze met hers, a troubled frown creasing his brows. "What's odd is that Cassie's homework is perfect, and she rarely has anything more than one or two problems wrong. So, to see her doing so poorly on the review tests, which are taken directly off of the homework I give them, really concerns me."

"It concerns me, too," she said on a rush of breath.

He gave her an understanding nod. "Another thing I noticed is that she's changed answers on her tests and ended up getting the problem wrong, when it was correct to begin with." He pointed out a few of those instances on the papers in front of her. "Something isn't quite right, but I can't put my finger on it. I know Cassie's grades and what she's capable of doing from last year, and this just isn't a normal pattern for her."

"Maybe she's confused about how to do the problem," she said, and wondered if she sounded like she was grasping at straws for an answer. Because if Cassie was able to ace her homework, it didn't make sense that her test scores would be so low.

"Could be," he replied, not discounting her theory. Leaning back in his chair, he tipped his head and regarded her thoughtfully. "You're a single parent, right?"

She stiffened, her defenses instantly rising. Shit. She hated, hated, this line of questioning-and Daniel certainly wasn't the first person to scrutinize her ability as a single parent. "Yes." She couldn't keep the irritable bite from her tone.

He didn't seem to notice her annoyance. "And Cassie's father?"

Her teeth clenched before she replied. "He isn't a part of her life." Tim Carson never had been, and never would be a father figure to her daughter. Especially considering he'd never acknowledged his child's existence, which was more than fine with Sydney.

"Okay," Daniel said, much too calmly, and with too much consideration, for Sydney's liking.

She could only imagine that he was judging her, just as so many before him had, and her irritation spiked. She leaned forward in her chair and braced her forearms on the tabletop, her entire demeanor taking on an aggressive, I'm-not-about-to-take-your-shit stance. "Look, I don't know what kind of information you're digging for, but what do any of Cassie's problems with math have to do with me being a single parent?"

Judging by the barely perceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, it appeared the man actually had the audacity to find her indignation humorous. It was also obvious that he wasn't at all threatened by her confrontational attitude.

"Sydney, I didn't mean to imply anything by the question, and I'm sorry if I offended you in any way," he said, his voice genuinely sincere. "I'm just trying to get a better feel for Cassie's home life. Is something going on with her that might be distracting her from school and testing? Anything in her normal routine that has changed lately?"

Choosing to believe that Daniel was truly interested in her daughter's welfare and hadn't meant to insult her, she gave his question serious thought. Sydney knew all the good friends that Cassie hung out with, along with their parents, and though the girls had normal teenage issues that they occasionally dealt with, everything was fine for the time being. She regularly checked her daughter's e-mails and text messages to make sure Cassie wasn't doing something she wasn't supposed to, and she stayed on top of her extracurricular activities and her whereabouts. So, other than a regular fifteen-year-old attitude that came with frequent mood swings, there wasn't anything abnormal or troubling about her daughter's behavior.

Sydney shook her head. "I honestly can't think of anything that has changed or is out of the ordinary for Cass."

"Then it's possible that this is just a bump in the road, so to speak, and we'll just have to get things back on track again."

"What do you recommend I do?" she asked, unwilling to walk out of his classroom without some kind of proactive plan in place for her daughter. "I can get her a private tutor, if you think that's necessary."

"No, not yet I don't." He picked up the papers and slipped them back into Cassie's file. "At this point, I wanted to make sure you were aware of the problem. So, before I recommend you hiring a tutor, I'd first like to try and work through this with Cassie myself."

"Okay." She was fine with that. Despite running her own business, anything beyond basic math was out of her realm of comprehension, and that included algebra. She wouldn't be much help to Cassie at all.

"I tutor my own students on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons," he went on, meeting her gaze from across the table. "I'd like to have Cassie come in on those days so I can work with her one-on-one, which most of my students don't get during class time because we only have an hour to review the day's work. By working directly with her, I can get a solid idea of how she's doing and make a better evaluation of the situation. I can find out if she's truly struggling in the class, or if something else is going on that needs to be addressed."

Of course, Sydney's mind conjured up all kinds of worst-case scenarios. Like drugs. Depression. Hooking up with a horny boy who said all the right things to flatter a girl, but only wanted one thing from her: sex.

Panic made Sydney's heart race. She'd like to think that as Cassie's mother she would be aware of, or at least notice, such extreme activities, but she was far from being that stupid or naive.

"What else would be going on?" she asked.

"Hopefully, nothing too serious or dramatic." He must have seen the stricken look on her face, because his own expression softened with understanding. "Look, I know Cassie well enough to know she's a good kid. But, she's a teenager, and she's at the age where there's a lot of peer pressure and outside distractions that can interfere with schoolwork. Unfortunately, I see it happen all the time."

Sydney's stomach clenched. "Well, I'll definitely be having a talk with Cassie when I get home today and see if I can find out what's going on."

"That would be good," he said, encouraging her with an easy smile. "But don't push too hard for answers, or go searching for trouble where there is none. It could be as simple as her needing extra help in math."

That said, he stood and walked back to a tall filing cabinet, where he put away Cassie's academic folder. While she accepted his input, she'd like to think she could handle her own child, without any extra advice from him. After all, she knew Cassie and her personality best.

Figuring their parent-teacher conference was over, she stood, too, and stopped in front of his desk before leaving. "I appreciate you staying on top of Cassie."

He turned back around. "It's not a problem. It's my job to make sure each student does their absolute best in my class." He came around to where she was still standing, and tipped his head, regarding her curiously. "By the way… can I ask you a personal question? It's something I've wondered since the first time I met you last year."

"Uh, sure," she said with a carefree shrug, though after his inquiry about Cassie's father, she couldn't help but feel cautious about what was currently on his mind.

His warm gaze traveled over her face, taking in her features, then lingered on her lips a few extra seconds before he raised his brown eyes back to hers. "How old are you?"

Another question she absolutely hated. Especially when she knew it related to being Cassie's mother. "Why does it matter?"

He shook his head and laughed. "Are you always so defensive about everything?"

"Are you always so nosy about people's personal life?" she shot right back.

"No, not normally," he said with a sexy grin that told her that he was purely interested in just her personal life, which completely unnerved her. "Most of my kids' parents are in their mid-thirties to forties. You, on the other hand, look young enough to be Cassie's sister, not her mother."

The man had a way of throwing her off balance, with his direct questions, the too-charming way he had of dealing with her brash replies and personality, and the undeniable interest in his gaze that struck a spark of restless excitement deep inside her belly.

Jee-sus. She was starting to lust after a buttoned-up, conservative teacher. Un-freakin'-belivable.

"I'm twenty-nine," she said, not at all surprised at the disbelief she saw pass across his expression when he made the quick mental calculations that told him how young she'd been when Cassie had been born.

She was certain her announcement had just put a huge damper on his interest, just as she'd intended. She'd come across a few nice guys like Daniel Barnett over the years, and her past indiscretion resulting in a child born out of wedlock when she was only fourteen never failed to make them back off, and fast. At least when it came to anything more than a brief affair. Which proved that when it came to polished, educated men, she was the type of woman they slept with, but didn't take home to meet Mom and Dad.

"I guess I was right, wasn't I?" he said, a good dose of humor chasing away his initial shock. "You are young enough to be Cassie's sister."

She rolled her eyes at his flattery. "You should have been a politician instead of a teacher."

"That definitely would have made my parents happier," he said meaningfully, but his grin never wavered.

His comment again told her too much about his family and his way of life. She adjusted the strap of her purse over her shoulder and decided it was time for her to leave. "I should be going."

"I'm done here, too." He rounded his desk, tossed some papers into a leather briefcase, and snapped it shut. "I'll walk out with you."

Her point had been to get far away from this man who provoked way too many unexplained feelings within her. However, saying, "I'd rather you didn't" was too rude, so she waited for him to join her at the back of the class, and together they headed out of the building, a surprisingly comfortable silence settling between them.

Walking side by side as they passed through the campus to the parking lot, she was acutely aware of just how tall he was, how masculine. The cool, crisp afternoon breeze ruffling through her long, unbound auburn curls also tousled Daniel's short honey-blond hair, giving him a mussed, unkempt look she found much too appealing.

There were only a few cars left in the lot, and she started toward her ten-year-old Honda Accord. The vehicle was old and used, but it was completely paid for and ran like a dream, and that's all she cared about. When Daniel continued to follow her, she cast him a sidelong glance filled with amusement. Undoubtedly, he'd been raised a gentleman, and that included walking a woman to her vehicle. "I think I can make it to my car on my own from here."

"Actually, my car is right over there," he said, and pointed to a vehicle that was parked just beyond hers-a sporty Volvo convertible coupe that most people wouldn't be able to afford on a teacher's salary. "And, there's something I wanted to ask you."

Coming to a stop on the driver's side of her car, she dug her keys from her purse, then met his gaze and allowed a derisive smile to curve her lips. "Another personal question?" She unlocked the door and opened it, just in case she needed a quick escape from him and what was beginning to feel like a relentless interrogation.

He thought for a moment, then replied. "Yeah, I guess it would be."

After tossing her purse into the passenger seat, she folded her arms across her chest and braced herself for another curious inquiry about her life, her past, or some other quest for private answers. "What would you like to know?"

His gaze drifted briefly to the cleavage she'd unintentionally created, then came back to her face. "Would you like to go out sometime?"

His question caught her completely off guard. That was the last thing she'd expected him to ask, and she wasn't even sure she'd heard him right. After all, checking out her breasts and flirting with her were one thing, but it just didn't make sense that someone so conservative would want to interact socially with her. "Excuse me?"

He casually braced a hand on the top of her car, subtly caging her in between the vehicle door and his body. "I asked you if you would you like to go out on a date."

Okay, so she had heard him correctly, and somehow she found the fortitude to laugh off his absurd question. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not joking." In fact, he appeared downright serious.

She shook her head, causing her hair to swirl wildly over her shoulders. "I don't think so."

His gaze remained persistent. "Why not?"

Wanting to let him down easy, she came up with the most logical excuse without stating the obvious-that their worlds just didn't mesh. "Well, for one thing, I'm sure my daughter wouldn't appreciate my dating her math teacher."

"Actually, it's not Cassie's choice to make."

He was right. But here was the best reason of all why going out with Daniel Barnett just wasn't a good idea: "You're so not my type."

He shifted on his feet, the movement bringing him closer somehow. Certainly within touching distance. "Now how would you know that?" he asked in a soft, sexy drawl that was equivalent to a sensual caress along her spine.

She ignored the tingling sensation making her nipples tighten and pucker. "A woman just knows these things."

"What if you're wrong?" he countered, all charm and temptation rolled into an irresistible package she was certain many woman found hard to ignore.

Herself included, it seemed.

"I'm not wrong," she insisted, then inhaled a deep breath. But instead of the cool, fresh air she'd expected to fill her senses, she drew in the scent of him, A heady combination of heat and sandalwood, and something else that made her stomach clench with shameless desire for a man who never should have affected her so physically.

"Look," she tried, this time more firmly, "I'm flattered you asked, but it just wouldn't work between us."

Amusement tipped up the corner of his mouth. "It's just a date, Sydney. I'm not asking you to marry me."

The wry note to his voice and the mirth dancing in his gaze prompted an indulgent smile from her. "That's a good thing, because then I'd have to turn you down twice."

He paused for a long moment, and just when Sydney thought she'd finally convinced him she wasn't interested, he managed to throw her another curveball. Reaching out, he caught a long strand of her hair and slowly, gently wound it around his long index finger, ensnaring her in more ways than one. The gesture struck her as oddly tender, if not a little possessive, especially when his fingers grazed the side of her neck. She shivered and damned her lack of willpower, and that gnawing need making itself known deep inside her soul.

"Are you always so tough with men?" he asked, his tone low and caring.

She tried to pull back, but he still had her hair between his fingers. "No, not all men." With some of them she played easy to get, usually to satisfy her own purposes. But her reasons for being tough with Daniel had more to do with him being a genuinely nice guy-and her being a very bad girl.

"Then why me, Sydney?"

God, even the way he said her name, so soft and reverent, made her want to hear it on his lips in the throes of passion. And that thought was enough to force her to take drastic actions with him.

"Why you?" Deliberately, she stepped closer to him and ran her finger down the front of his dress tie while giving him an upswept glance infused with a whole lot of unabashed confidence and reckless aggression. The kind that considerate, conservative guys found too bold and brazen for their tastes. "Because I eat stuffed shirts like you for breakfast."

He raised a brow, then burst out laughing. Once he got all those deep, good-natured chuckles out of his system, he regarded her with a lopsided grin. "I don't know what amuses me more, the fact that you think I'm a stuffed shirt, or that you'd eat me for breakfast." His eyes darkened with something wicked and playful. "I have to admit that would definitely be a first for me, but I'm willing to let you try your best."

Did nothing dissuade this man? She dropped her arms to her sides and sighed. "Daniel… you're a really nice guy, and-"

"Ahhh," he interrupted, the word laced with a wealth of understanding. "Too nice for you!"

Now he was getting it. Finally. "Trust me. I'm doing you a huge favor by telling you no."

"I'm a big boy, Syd," he replied confidently. "I think I can handle a night out with you."

She stared into his compelling caramel-colored eyes and realized that Daniel was no different from any other guy and it was all about getting laid. It had to be, because there just was no other explanation for his determination, despite her rejection.

Well, two could play that game. It had been months since she'd gotten laid, and there was something about Daniel Barnett that made her wonder what he was like in bed. There was a definite attraction between them, so it wasn't as though she were settling, or even taking advantage of him.

What the hell, she decided. He thought he knew what he was getting into, that he could handle her. It would be interesting to see if that was true.

"Fine," she said, giving in for the sake of enjoying a night of mutual pleasure with him. "I'll go out with you, but it will have to be next weekend so I can get someone at the bar to cover one of my late night shifts."

"That works for me." The grin that appeared was pure male satisfaction. "Next weekend it is."

Having gotten what he wanted, he slipped on a pair of sunglasses and walked away toward his sporty Volvo, his stride self-assured and cocky, even. She watched him go, appreciating the width of his shoulders and his firm backside before she slid into her car. She closed the door and started the engine, unable to remember the last time, if ever, that a man had been able to wrap her around his finger, as Daniel just had.

The feeling was disturbing… and very exciting.