Nate Williams has become one of the most powerful defense attorneys in Boston—I barely recognized him yesterday! He’s polished and professional now, yet still seems haunted by his old sins. Little else seems to have changed about him, particularly his old crush on Kathryn Price. And poor Katie has had her own share of troubles lately—her career has stalled since her accident. She’s been struggling far too long and deserves a chance at happiness.

Those two clearly have unfinished business with each other, but to build a future, Nate will have to face up to his deepest secrets. And Katie will have to stop living in the past, and see Nate for the man he has become….

The Beauty Queen’s Makeover
Teresa Southwick

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TERESA SOUTHWICK

lives in Southern California with her hero husband who is more than happy to share with her the male point of view. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Silhouette Books.

To Katie, the coolest girl in school, and my good friend.

Hey Katie,

You’re a real cool girl and it’s been awesome hanging out with you.

Thanks for the fun times, and good luck with your modeling. I bet you’ll knock ’em dead.

Your friend,

Nate

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

All she’d wanted was to sit by the pool and feel the sun on her skin.

Today was the first day in a over a year that Kathryn Price had gone out in public without a scarf covering her face. She should have known better. Someone was coming and any second whoever it was would see what she’d been hiding.

If it would help, she’d shout “The British are coming,” since she just happened to be staying at the Paul Revere Inn outside of Boston. But that would only attract the attention she was trying so hard to avoid. The voices on the other side of the hedge told her there was just enough time for a clean getaway. She wasn’t ready to face people and when people got a good look at her face, the feeling was mutual. So she got up from the chaise lounge and headed for the other gate out of the pool area.

It had been a year since she’d been in the media spotlight. Three hundred and sixty-five days since her accident had been the lead story on the nightly news, not to mention magazines and tabloids. It was unlikely anyone would remember her as the model on her way to being the “it” girl. Now she was the poor unfortunate who would never make the swimsuit cover of Sports Illustrated—not with the scars left from repairing that shattered leg. The hardware holding it together would set off metal detectors at the airport. But on the off chance someone recognized her, she wasn’t prepared to deal with curious stares and pitying glances.

As she hurried through the exit, she glanced over her shoulder, then slammed into what felt like a solid brick wall. The collision bounced her backward and she would have landed on her fanny except for the strong hands that reached out and grabbed her. But those same strong hands pinned her arms and she couldn’t secure her oversize sunglasses, which had landed at her feet and left her bare face exposed.

“Whoa, Sparky.” Laughter rumbled through his deep voice. “Where’s the fire?”

Human contact. That was exactly what she’d been escaping from. And this was male human contact, her worst-case scenario. Damn it. Served her right for ignoring her gut feeling to stay in her room. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing here. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Literally she was at this hotel because it was the only decent place to stay near Saunders University. And she was staying because her teacher, mentor and old friend from Saunders had sent out a distress signal.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, stepping away from the stranger. “My glasses,” she said, starting to pick them up.

“Allow me,” he offered gallantly, then leaned over and beat her to it.

Once upon a time she’d been agile enough to make even this tall, athletic-looking man look like the tortoise to her hare. But the accident had changed that. And the fact that he was staring intently made her nervous. She half turned, keeping the left side of her face in shadow.

“May I have my glasses, please?” If there was a God in heaven, she sounded cool and controlled in a sophisticated sort of way. Not needy, insecure and wishing to be anywhere but here.

“Sorry. Of course. How could I refuse a pretty lady?”

Her? Pretty? Kathryn barely held back a bitter laugh. She used to be. But the accident had changed that, too. Nothing about her life was as it had been.

“Thank you,” she said. “Now I’ll be going and get out of your way.”

She secured the glasses on her nose, and brushed her fingertips along her cheek to make sure everything was covered the way she wanted it. When she was satisfied, she glanced up and did a double take. The man could only be described as drop-dead gorgeous. In her line of work—make that former work—she’d met and posed with People magazine’s sexiest man alive. This guy could win that cover hands down. He was the walking, talking, breathing embodiment of tall, tan, hunky heartthrob.

He was six feet two if he was an inch and his hair was shot with reddish-brown highlights. Brown eyes brimming with warmth and humor studied her from a face that was… Chiseled was a word straight out of a romance novel and probably a cliché. But she’d been out of circulation too long to be up on the current catchy slang and her brain was shouting hubba hubba so loud, she couldn’t think of a better description. So, chiseled worked for her.

His nose was perfectly straight, his jaw square with a hint of an indentation. It was a lean, handsome face—and his body was a perfect match. She knew quality when she saw it and the expensive navy-blue suit was tailor-made, setting off his wide shoulders to perfection. The red power tie was the cherry on top of a very impressive sundae. For a lot of reasons, she wasn’t easily impressed. But he was flawless. It was a lot of information to pick up in a glance, so it must have been the double take. Although it was useless information. She’d never been very good with men and she didn’t need more information to process the fact that this one was way out of her league.

“I have to go now,” she said.

He didn’t move aside. “Don’t tell me. Let me guess. You’re the White Rabbit? And you’re late for a very important date?”

Her? A date? Hardly. If only she could be the Rabbit and escape down the rabbit hole. But escape seemed less urgent somehow. There was something about his voice—a sensation of comfort as the warm richness of it drizzled over her like melted fudge. A memory nipped at the edge of her mind but refused to crystallize. For some weird reason and against all the odds, the urge to flee from this stranger faded.

Finally, she moved from dappled shade into sunlight and looked directly into his eyes. The friendly expression instantly turned to astonishment. “Katie?”

That stunned her. No one had called her that since college. Who was he? And what did he know about her? The mirror had become her worst enemy, but she wished for one now. She’d made very sure the glasses covered everything. Unlike Mr. Perfect, she had a lot to hide.

She studied him intently. “Do I know you?”

He mumbled something that sounded like, “Why should you? No one else does.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He smiled. “More important—I know you. You went to Saunders University. As it happens, I was lucky enough to be there at the same time.”

“Really?”

“I doubt you’d remember me.”

Surely he was wrong. There were things she didn’t want to remember, but someone so good-looking would be hard to forget.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

His gaze slid away almost shyly, but his bearing and confidence didn’t peg him as a shy man. “Nate Williams,” he finally said.

Then he tensed slightly, as if bracing for a reaction. She probably only noticed because it was a habit she’d adopted—waiting for the shock, then the discomfort when a stranger’s glance skittered away. But his name didn’t jog her memory.

She shook her head. “Did we take a class together?”

“I was two years ahead of you and in prelaw.”

“Then probably that’s not how we met. I was never that focused.” She tapped her lip as she thought back to the days that should have been carefree and were anything but. “What kind of activities were you involved in? Maybe we shared the same interest and that’s where our paths crossed.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t have a lot of interests or extra time.”

Which told her precisely nothing, and didn’t help at all in placing him. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry about it. That was a long time ago. It’s no big deal.”

“But you remember me.”

“How could anyone forget? You were a big deal. The prettiest girl on campus. Voted most likely to wind up a cover girl. And you did. Of course I remember you.”

Oh, God. He knew she’d been a model. Did he know anything else? “I really have to go.”

“Not yet. Please?”

Good humor radiated from him and his eyes sparkled with a sincere something she hadn’t seen in a man’s expression for longer than she could remember. So long, in fact, she was surprised she’d recognized the blatant male appreciation. How was it possible to feel so warm and wary at the same time?

“Stay just a little longer. It’s not often a guy like me gets to be this close to the face that launched a thousand lipsticks. And eye shadows, too, if I’m not mistaken.”

Before she could stop him he removed her sunglasses and she gasped. There was no hiding now; he was up close and personal with her face. In front of God and everyone her scars were out there—the half circle groove over her left cheekbone, cut by her glasses in the same accident that shattered her left leg. Maybe now that he could see she was no longer the prettiest girl on campus he would move his larger than life self out of her way and let her go. She braced for his recoil of surprise followed by the poor-Kathryn-Price look.

She saw neither. His pleasant expression never changed. No, she thought, looking closer. It changed slightly with what might have been understanding flickering in his eyes. In spite of that, tension coiled in her belly. After he’d gone overboard about her model’s face, she didn’t dare hope that he would ignore the way she looked now. She wondered if he’d been living under a rock that he hadn’t heard what had happened. He’d want to know the details and offer condolences. Finally he’d insist it was hardly noticeable, which she knew was a big fat lie. She’d only lost partial vision in one eye. She wasn’t blind.

She braced herself again. Okay, she thought, let’s get it over with. Then she could make good on this disastrous escape attempt and retreat to the privacy of her room, which was where she should have stayed in the first place.

She lifted her chin, met his gaze and held out her hand, palm up. Dignity was something the accident hadn’t taken from her. “May I have my sunglasses back?” she asked, forcing a pleasant tone into her voice.

One corner of his mouth curved up. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you guys dig chicks with scars?”

Of all the things he could have said, that was the most unexpected. She blinked at him, then felt a rusty, reluctant smile curl her lips. “No, but I’ve heard chicks dig guys with scars.”

Directness was something she hadn’t prepared for; it completely disarmed her. His quirky question, not ducking the obvious put her completely at ease. And she would never have believed it possible from a guy who looked as if he could be on the cover of GQ or FITNESS FOR FANATICS. How did he know just the right thing to say?

“It’s true,” he insisted. “A tangible sign of character. Guys always look for character.”

“Oh, please. You’re telling me character is the first thing you look for in a woman and not the size of her—” She held her hands out chest high and slid him a wry look.

He grinned. “In all those articles about the top ten things that attract one person to another, isn’t sense of humor at the top of the list?”

“None of my friends store their sense of humor here, yet it’s often where male eye contact starts. And what makes a person laugh is very different from character. I should know. I’ve been on the cover of magazines where those articles appeared. It seems to me looks top the lists.”

“Then, clearly the articles are wrong.”

“I appreciate that you’re trying to make me feel better.”

“Is it working?” he asked, hopefully.

“It would if I had my sunglasses.”

He looked down at the glasses in his hand as if he’d forgotten he’d taken them off and still had them. He met her gaze and sighed dramatically.

“Okay, you can have them back. But only because it’s sunny and squinting will give you crow’s-feet around those beautiful eyes. Certainly not because the prettiest girl on campus has anything to hide.”

“You are so lying,” she said, shaking her head with a tentative smile.

A sudden frown chased the humor from his eyes and he looked almost nervous as he ran his fingers through his short, thick hair.

She put her hand on his arm. “You look like someone made a kite tail out of your favorite tie. That was a joke. Where’s your sense of humor?”

“Joke. Right. I knew that.”

Nate breathed a sigh of relief when she showed no signs of recognition. Although she was right about him lying—a lie of omission. But a lie by any other name was still a lie. He’d only told her his name, not who he really was. He’d never expected to see her again, not in the flesh. Pictures of her in magazines had been his only contact since college and all he could ever hope for. But a little over a year ago he’d lost track of her. Obviously something traumatic had happened to take her out of circulation.

She put her sunglasses back on. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask how it happened.”

He knew “it” was some kind of accident. “Do you want to tell me?”

“No.”

The response was succinct, decisive and unequivocal. He slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “That’s good enough for me.”

If anyone could understand not wanting to discuss scars, it was Nate. And not all of them had been on his face. Severe teenage acne had left his face badly marked. As if that wasn’t enough to deal with, his nose was broken in a college fight. Those were the days when everyone made fun of his “crater face.” Everyone but Katie. She’d hung out at his fraternity house with her boyfriend. The jerk never passed up an opportunity to pick on the brainer geek who desperately tried to avoid him and fade into the woodwork.

Every time Nate was the butt of another joke, Katie made it a point to find something nice to say to him, and her sweetness managed to neutralize the filth from whatever dirt was shoveled his way. He would always be grateful to her for that. He wasn’t lying about her character. To him, her heart and soul had always been even more beautiful than her face. And that was saying something because he also hadn’t been lying about her being the prettiest girl on campus. She’d always wanted to be a model. He wondered about the state of her career now.

In college, the few who were acquainted with Nate Williams knew him as Wide Load Willie or Zit-face Willie. At the time, the nicknames were humiliating and he’d never expected to be grateful for them. But he was now. Because Katie didn’t know him by his given name. When he’d finally joined a top legal defense firm and started making some money, he’d gone to a plastic surgeon who specialized in scar removal, had his nose fixed and hired a personal trainer to get him in shape. There was nothing left of Wide Load Willie and he no longer faded into the woodwork. Improved appearance had given him the confidence to take center stage in his career.

But when he’d introduced himself a few moments ago, there was no sign of recognition. Thank God. He didn’t want her to remember the flabby-freak-with-no-friends he’d been. Today, when she’d finally looked at him, she liked what she saw. Since he’d never expected to see an expression of admiration in Katie Price’s eyes, he liked that she liked him. And he didn’t care if he was acting like a hormone-riddled high schooler.

He’d come a long way since college. He was a criminal defense attorney now, and his services were available to whoever could pay his price. But he didn’t want to share that with her, either. It had given him the means to fix what was wrong with him on the outside, but lately he’d begun to wonder if the profession wasn’t creating new, worse flaws on the inside. Many of his clients had little or no decency, honesty, integrity or morality. His grandmother used to say people are a product of their environment. What did that make him?

Katie snapped her fingers. “Earth to Nate? You drifted off. Stay with me here.”

He shook his head, scattering the disturbing images—past and present. “Sorry. I have a bad habit of getting lost in my own thoughts. It’s trademark brainer geek. You may remember.”

Although he prayed she wouldn’t.

She tapped her lip. “I can’t picture you that way. In fact, I’m getting nothing from my memory banks.”

His banks were overflowing with recollections. And the woman before him still had the same thick, silky dark brown hair. She was small for a model; the top of her head came about to his shoulder. Always thin, the sleeveless blouse and ankle-length skirt she wore made her look more fragile than he remembered. And when she shifted her weight from her left leg to her right, he didn’t miss the wince—or the way she pressed a hand to the small of her back as if she was uncomfortable. He frowned. She didn’t want to talk about it. But he was interested in everything about her, including what had taken the sparkle from hazel eyes he remembered flashing with energy and life.

He might be having a crisis of conscience about being a defense attorney, but he was damn good at it. And he didn’t get where he was by refusing to ask the tough questions. He would find out about her—what she had done in the last ten years, and what she was doing now. But he would sit her down for the cross-examination.

He pointed down the path. “There’s a cozy little bench just around the bend. It could take a while for us to catch up and you’d be doing an old man a favor if you’d sit down with me.”

She hesitated a moment as she studied him. Finally she nodded and a small smile turned up the corners of her full lips as she said, “Old my eye.”

He released a long breath and realized how much he hadn’t wanted her to say no.

They walked slowly along the picturesque, landscaped cobblestone path. Manicured bushes and pink, purple and yellow flowers lined the way and swayed in the afternoon breeze. Stately old trees shaded them when they were settled on the bench, and he casually rested his arm along the back, his fingers just an inch from her shoulder.

“So you’re a lawyer?” she asked, shifting slightly away from him.

The question drew his gaze to hers. Did she remember something about him? Maybe something she’d seen on the news? But her look was curious, if a little guarded.

“What makes you think that?”

“It was the prelaw information that gave me a clue.”

“Oh,” he said sheepishly. He wasn’t normally such a dimwit. The power surge from being this close to her must be frying his brain. “Right. Yes. I’m a defense attorney.”

“Must be nice to set a goal and reach it,” she said wistfully.

“I suppose.”

He’d always wanted to go into law, although he hadn’t exactly followed the path he’d intended. But it wasn’t himself he wanted to talk about. The breeze stirred the leaves overhead and he watched the dappled shadows dance over the lovely curve of her cheek and jaw. The scarred side of her face was in shadow, but it didn’t matter. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Is your husband here with you?” he asked, fishing for information and hoping it didn’t look like it. He hadn’t felt this awkward around a woman in a very long time.

“That would be tough to pull off,” she said.

“Why’s that?”

“I’m not married.” She tilted her head to the side as she studied him. “What about you?”

“I’m not here with anyone, either.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I’d like to think personal interest made you nosy about my marital status.”

She shook her head. “You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told. And for the record, I’m not married.”

For just a second, she looked pleased, then her mask of cool unconcern was back. His fingers itched just to touch her, to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and she was really there. But he sensed some tension in her and put his self-control firmly in place.

“So, how does it feel being back at Saunders?” he asked.

She glanced around. “The town hasn’t changed much. Unlike Los Angeles, there are no palm trees. It’s all a little run-down, just the way I remember. Although I’m sure the university Web site only highlights the green rolling hills and tree-covered campus with lots of stately buildings.”

He laughed and nodded. “You nailed it, lady.”

“How about that? Being a lawyer, you’re the one who should have a way with words.”

If she only knew, he thought. “So you’re a model.”

“Was.” Absently she traced her cheek beneath the rim of the sunglasses covering half her face.

“Did you like it?”

She linked her fingers in her lap and he could almost see her knuckles turn white. “Yes. I was lucky. A girl like me with no particular skills would have difficulty making a good living otherwise.”

“Who says you have no skills?”

“Oh, you know. Judging people on the outside. ‘If she looks like that, she can’t possibly have a single intelligent thought.’”

“That’s ridiculous. I certainly never felt that way.”

“Then you were in the minority. And it’s not an issue any longer,” she said with a huge sigh.

In his job he learned to read body language—witnesses, defendants and juries. The way her mouth pulled into a straight line told him she didn’t want to say more. And if he pushed, she was outta there. So he decided to change the subject.

“What brings you back here?”

“Do you remember Professor Gilbert Harrison?” she asked.

“Do I? He was my favorite teacher.”

She nodded. “Mine, too. He sent me a message that he’s having some sort of trouble with the college Board of Directors and needed my help.”

“I got the same message. And I’ve been nosing around.”

“Do you know what’s going on?” she asked.

He shook his head. “But where there’s smoke, there’s usually fire. And that’s what worries me. I can’t imagine the administrative body of a well-respected university going on a witch hunt without just cause.”

“But what reason could there be? He was always popular. A lot of my friends took his classes and used to hang out at his office. Do you remember how crowded it always was?”

Nate didn’t because he’d never seen the professor during his regular office hours. He’d had to hold down a job and take care of his grandmother. The professor had made time for him whenever he needed it.

“He’s a good teacher and was a generous friend to me,” he said, not quite answering her question, a defense lawyer tactic. “I’ll always be grateful to him for his help.”

Without it, he might not have made it through college—in spite of his high IQ. It was the stepping stone to law school and now he was considered one of the top defense attorneys in the country. Some of his defendants were notorious, which gave him more than his share of publicity. Katie didn’t remember him from college, and she’d given no clue she knew who he was now. But the way she’d tried to hide from him when they ran into each other was a big sign she wouldn’t relish any spotlight, even if it was collateral damage from him.

“He always did his best to help. That’s the way I remember him, too,” she said. “I wonder what’s going on.”

“Not a clue,” he admitted.

As they talked, he could see her relaxing with him and he wanted to keep it that way. His gut told him if she knew the finer points of his identity and profession, she’d run far and fast. And he very much didn’t want her to run. She’d been the single bright spot in his college experience. She’d been the reason he got out of bed every day—that and a dirt-poor kid’s obsession to get an education and make money. But now that he’d found her again, he intended to be her bright spot.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh, there’s a dangerous prospect. I thought I just saw the lights flicker with the power drain.”

“Very funny.” She was definitely relaxing. “As I said, I’ve been nosing around here at Saunders.”

“Why?”

“Just trying to gather information. Thought it might be helpful.”

“And is it?”

He shrugged. “It might be if I had any. I’m getting nowhere. Either I can’t get in to see anyone or the people I talk to claim to know nothing about anything.”

“And?”

“It’s time for me to go see Professor Harrison.”

“And?” she said again.

“I was wondering if you’d consider going with me.”

Nate held his breath while she thought over his suggestion.

“I’d like that,” she finally said.

He’d like that, too. More than she knew. More than he wanted her to know. Because he very much wanted time with her. Time to replace the shadows in her eyes with the sparkle he remembered.

But he knew that if she remembered him, time wouldn’t be his friend.

Chapter Two

“Hello, Professor Harrison.”

Kathryn stood just inside the office doorway and felt Nate’s warm hand on the small of her back. With an effort she controlled a shudder. The contact was supportive—a gentlemanly gesture, in no way threatening. But ever since that terrible night in college, she couldn’t trust even the most innocent touch of a man. Ted Hawkins had stolen that from her.

Then she felt the professor’s gaze on her and tensed for his reaction to her altered appearance. She realized her mentor had changed, too. His dark hair was graying now and his face was thinner, the lines beside his nose and mouth were craggy, as if carved and weathered. If his formerly warm, sparkling brown eyes were the window to his soul, it was fading fast. He stared, almost as if he didn’t see them.

The man she remembered would have stood and greeted them affably—and been delighted that her vocabulary included that word. She’d deliberately not worn her sunglasses, to get through the awkwardness as quickly as possible. The man she knew would have observed the scars on her face and known just the right thing to say. That man was gone.

His white, long-sleeved shirt was rumpled, the trademark bow tie askew. Absentminded professor was a cliché, but he certainly looked the part. More troubling was the fact she’d never known him to be forgetful, distracted or inattentive. He’d always been sharp and insightful, with a wealth of obscure information at his fingertips. Whatever had compelled him to ask for help must be serious—something was taking a terrible toll on this man.

Then she realized he was studying Nate. She glanced at him and saw tension in the line of his broad shoulders, the muscle contracting in his lean cheek.

He moved in front of the desk and held out his hand. “Nate Williams, Professor.”

“I know who you are,” the older man said a little impatiently. Then he looked at her and smiled. “Kathryn Price.” As if he finally remembered his manners, he held out his hand indicating the two chairs in front of his desk. “It was good of you to come. Please, sit down.”

“Thank you.” Kathryn sat.

Nate remained standing and gripped the back of the chair beside hers. When he spoke, the warm, melted-chocolate tone was missing from his voice. “What’s going on, Professor? Why did you send for us?”

Nate had morphed from the good-natured, self-confident hunk who’d single-handedly brought her sense of humor back to life into an ultraserious man who tweaked something in her memory. But, again, whatever it was wouldn’t shape up. She’d thought this setting would be familiar and possibly trigger memories of him. She’d been wrong.

At least some things didn’t change. This office—a gazillion books filling the shelves, scattered papers on the desk, photographs on the walls—was just as she remembered.

“What’s going on?” the older man repeated, glancing first at Nate, then her. “My job is in jeopardy.”

“No. That’s impossible.”

“Unfortunately, my dear, it’s all too possible.”

Kathryn leaned forward. “But why? You’ve been at Saunders for years. What about tenure?”

“Tenure can’t protect any educator against charges of impropriety. The Board of Directors is investigating me, looking for anything they can find and make stick.”

“Why would they do that?” she asked.

“Rumors. Innuendo. Maybe a little jealousy of my rapport with students.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“Will they find any evidence of impropriety?” Nate asked, his tone more gentle.

“Of course they won’t.” Kathryn frowned at him. He’d said where there’s smoke, there’s fire. If Nate believed the professor was guilty, why would he have come back to help? “I can’t believe you asked him that.”

“He’s right to ask,” the professor said.

“It’s a defense attorney thing. Some don’t want to know.” Nate briefly met her gaze as he leaned his forearms on the chair back. “Others do so they don’t put a client on the witness stand and risk perjury or self-incrimination. I prefer to know the good, bad and ugly up front because I don’t like surprises.”

The professor glanced away as he said, “They’re looking for a way to get rid of me. I think some of it is about my age.”

Kathryn met Nate’s gaze. “Age discrimination is illegal, though, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

For the first time since she saw him, Professor Harrison smiled. “Smart girl.”

“Thank you.” Kathryn glowed at the compliment. Not everyone had looked past her face to give her IQ the benefit of the doubt. From now on, she thought, brains were going to have to be enough.

The professor leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. “No one has come right out and said anything directly about my age. They’re saying I’m unprofessional. Can’t be such a ‘pal’ to the students. Can’t hold their hand. They’re in college now. Teachers have to keep a certain distance. Liability issues and such.”

“They’re wrong.” Kathryn’s heart went out to him. “It’s a style thing. If I remember right, your approach was that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Many students owe you a lot.”

“I’m one of them,” Nate said. “I wouldn’t be where I am today if not for you.”

“So you’re happy with the way things turned out?” the professor asked.

“Of course,” Nate said automatically. “But I still don’t understand why you sent for us.”

The professor sighed as his faded brown eyes regarded them gravely. “I was hoping some of my former students would come back and put in a good word for me.”

“We’d be happy to,” Kathryn said, glancing up at Nate, who nodded agreement. “But how will that help?”

“A good question. Especially with Sandra Westport stirring up a hornet’s nest.”

“Sir?” Nate said, clearly puzzled. It was one single, respectful form of address to get the older man back on track.

“I’m sorry. That’s another story. I was hoping you could simply tell the board that my method of teaching made a difference. That the career path you’ve chosen is of benefit to mankind and might not have happened but for my guidance and educational support.”

“You want us to make them believe you have wings, a halo and walk on water?” Nate said wryly.

A smile pulled at the corners of the professor’s mouth. “Is that so very far from the truth?”

“Just a little,” Nate said, holding up his thumb and forefinger close together.

“I wouldn’t dream of putting words in your mouth. But, I do hope I’ve been of some help in setting you on your paths. One likes to think it made a difference.” He looked sad, suddenly, and miserable. “I’ve dedicated my life to teaching. Being around young people has always been very important to me and it’s all I have now.”

“That can’t be true,” Kathryn protested.

“But, it is, you see. My wife died not long ago. And I haven’t always been…” He had a faraway look in his eyes as he sighed. “I feel as if I’ve lost so much. I don’t think I could bear it if my job—my career were taken away, as well. There’s so much more good I can do. I’m hoping that they’ll see what I’ve accomplished and show leniency and compassion.”

Nate frowned. “No one knows words like an English professor,” he commented. “You’re the best teacher I ever had. I swear you made me memorize the Ninth Collegiate Dictionary from cover to cover.”

Another fleeting grin from the old man. “You’re exaggerating, my boy.”

“Only a little. But I know firsthand your intricate understanding of words and knack for choosing just the right one. You were forever after me to put a finer point on whatever I was trying to convey.”

“And what is it you’re trying to convey now, Nate?”

“That leniency is an odd choice of words for a man who’s above suspicion.”

“You always were too bright for your own good,” the professor mumbled.

“What do you mean?” Kathryn asked, his words giving her a bad feeling.

He shook his head. “Just that no one is perfect. Everyone has regrets, things they wish it were possible to go back and change.”

Kathryn knew he was right. If she had it to do over, she’d never have dated Ted Hawkins in college. Professor Gilbert had tried to warn her, but she hadn’t listened. Then it was too late. The thought made her shiver, making her angry with herself. She tried so hard to bury all this. Yet here she was acting as if it had happened yesterday.

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” Nate commented, echoing her thoughts. “And regrets are not an actionable offense.”

“He’s right,” Kathryn agreed, shaking off her own demons.

“I like being right.” He grinned down at her, then it faded. When his glance went to the older man, he shifted nervously. “But without knowing specifics of the allegations, I’m not sure what I can say in your defense.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t be more specific,” the professor protested. He looked down at his hands, folded on his desk. “It’s all very complicated. But there’s someone involved—a…a benefactor who wishes to remain anonymous.”

“Like the Lone Ranger?” Nate asked.

“Hardly that heroic,” the professor said. “No mask. No silver bullets or white stallions. This person simply helped students. Made it possible for some to receive an education who might not otherwise have been able to attend college. That sort of thing.”

“And he doesn’t want to be thanked?” Kathryn asked.

“I never said it was a ‘he.’” The professor’s tone was sharp. “I’m sorry. I simply cannot say anything else. I won’t break a confidence.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at Nate. “And I understand you’ve become very adept at getting people to let unintended information slip.”

“It’s my job to ask questions,” Nate said, the words clipped. “That’s what attorneys do.”

“And isn’t it lucky for the professor that you are one,” Kathryn said, wondering what was going on between the two men. “He might need legal counsel if this goes any further.”

“If Sandra Westport has her way it will go very far.”

“You mentioned her before,” Kathryn commented. “What is she doing?”

“Her husband, David, was one of my students. They met here at Saunders and fell in love. Now they own a store in Boston and she’s a journalist for her small, hometown newspaper. Unfortunately her nose for news has her sniffing my way.” The professor sighed. “She’s inordinately curious about what she calls ‘the mysterious patron.’ This is a very sensitive time for me. While my job is in jeopardy, it would be better if she ceased her inquiries. The uproar she’s creating is channeling suspicion toward me. Not that she’ll find anything,” he hastily added.

“Maybe Nate could help,” Kathryn suggested. The words popped out before a cohesive thought had formed in her mind. But the idea had merit. He was an attorney. It was his job to sway opinion. “Maybe he could talk to Sandra Westport and convince her to drop her investigation.”

Nate met her gaze, then nodded at the professor. “Of course. Whatever I can do.”

Kathryn sighed. “You’re a wonderful role model and mentor, Professor Harrison. You’re the first person who challenged me. The first who made me consider the possibility that I’m more than just…” She stopped and looked down.

“A pretty face?” the professor said gently.

She met his gaze. For the first time since entering his office she saw the kindness and compassion in his expression that she remembered from all those years ago.

“Yes,” she admitted. Absently, she touched her fingertips to the groove on her cheek. “Boy, that sounds conceited and so stuck-up. And ironic.”

“I never knew you to be vain,” the older man said kindly. “The young woman I knew was honest and self-aware and to the best of my knowledge never said an unkind word to anyone.”

“Th—there was an accident—” Her voice caught and she stopped. “My face—isn’t the same.”

“No. Neither is mine.” He glanced up. “For that matter, neither is Nate’s.”

“Some of us are just late bloomers,” Nate said, an edge to his voice as a muscle in his cheek jumped.

“The point is,” the professor said, meeting her gaze again, “appearance is not a person’s defining essence. It’s simply one part of the whole, which is constantly changing.”

She smiled ruefully. “You’re just giving me philosophical spin.”

He shrugged. “Philosophy is attitude, and that can make all the difference. For what that’s worth.”

“It’s worth a lot. Unlike anything I might have to say to the board on your behalf.”

“You’ve always underestimated yourself, my dear.”

She shook her head. “You sent out a call for help to your former students who made something of themselves. But I have to ask—why me?”

“How can you say that?” Nate protested.

She glanced up at the man still standing beside her. “You said it yourself—this is the face that launched a thousand lipsticks. That’s not a cure for cancer or a plan for world peace. It’s superficial and unimportant.”

“Not to the cosmetics industry,” Nate commented.

“How very defense attorney of you,” she said wryly. “But the fact is I don’t know if I can help. I’m not sure that anything I say will carry any weight. I’m not noble. I’ve done nothing very important with my career, or my life. For that matter, I don’t even have a life. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

The professor smiled. “Then I would say your return to Saunders University is fortuitous.”

“How do you mean?” she asked.

“At the risk of a clichéd metaphor, roots are the best place to dig for bits of yourself. Your roots are here at college. Unless I miss my guess, this is where you truly began to blossom.”

Nodding absently, she thought about what he said. “Maybe. But I wish it wasn’t your misfortune that brought me back.”

“Every cloud has a silver lining.” When the professor laughed, he sounded out of practice. “I seem to be in rare form today—clichés everywhere.”

Kathryn stood. “Don’t worry, Professor. Nate and I will do everything we can to help you.”

And helping the professor was the blind leading the blind, Nate thought. He pulled his BMW into a space in the hotel parking lot and turned off the ignition, then went around to the passenger side to open Katie’s door. It was a miracle she was still there—a miracle the professor hadn’t let the proverbial cat out of the bag. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied with his own troubles, he could easily have expanded on Nate’s talent for eliciting information. Or how much he’d changed since college. Fortunately, he’d done neither.

“Here we are,” he said, after he’d opened her door and held out his hand.

She looked at it for several moments before tentatively accepting. “Thank you.”

“Although I’m not exactly sure where ‘here’ is,” he admitted. “And I don’t mean that literally.”

“I knew that. The professor wasn’t much help,” she said, falling into step beside him.

“If anything, he created more questions than he answered,” he said ruefully.

“At least we know what the problem is and what we can do to help.”

“Yes.”

To give the college board of directors a testimonial on how the professor influenced him on a career path to benefit humanity. Nate supposed a defense attorney fell into that category, although some compared him to a shark. He had the reputation of being less concerned about the merits of a case than a defendant’s ability to pay for his billable hours. He also had a reputation for winning.

His services were sought after and he was in a position to pick and choose his clients. He picked the ones who could afford him. Long ago he’d realized knowledge was power and knowledge of the law was the power to make a difference for the less fortunate. Like his grandmother. Lately he’d had a nagging feeling the woman who’d raised him after his parents died wouldn’t approve of the man he’d become. And now he wasn’t so sure the slick lawyer he’d become could convince anyone that what he did was a help to humanity. But he’d try. For the professor.

“So what do we do now?” Katie asked.

Their footsteps clicked on the lobby’s marble floor as they walked to the elevator. He pushed the up button. “We need to arrange to give our testimonials to the board. Earlier today I tried to see the administrator, Alex Broadstreet.”

“And?” She looked up at him expectantly.

He shook his head. “He blew me off. Technically his secretary did, but he’s calling the shots.”

“Judging by the expression on your face, you’re not a happy camper.”

“Let me count the ways,” he said grimly. “I was hoping this was all a misunderstanding and could be resolved with a simple conversation.”

“Of course now we know that’s not going to happen.”

“No. In fact when I bumped into you earlier—”

“Literally.”

He smiled. It was the best collision he’d had in a long time. The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. “Yes. I’d just come from trying to see Broadstreet.”

“Is there a problem? Other than the obvious, I mean.”

“I live two hours away. On the other side of Boston. I’d planned to resolve this and drive home tonight.”

“Pride goeth before a fall,” she said.

She didn’t know how right she was. He wasn’t used to failing. But a recent case and now this were giving him lessons in humility. Still, seeing her again made him wonder if this fall wasn’t a blessing in disguise.

“Is that a nice way of saying I’m arrogant?” he teased.

“If the shoe fits…” She shrugged. “Are you?”

“Let’s just say I wouldn’t have to use the shoehorn on that one. Or I could plead the fifth—don’t want to incriminate myself.”

“So you didn’t meet your objective today. Couldn’t you call for an appointment and come back?” she suggested.

“I could. But my gut tells me that he’s going to dodge phone calls. I think being on site and in his face is the only way I’m going to get anywhere.”

“You may be right. This whole thing is weird and seems awfully cloak-and-dagger.”

“It does feel as if they’re trying to keep it quiet and railroad the professor without due process.”

“I did promise we’d do everything we can to help him,” she said. “And you promised you’d try to get Sandra Westport to drop her investigation,” she reminded him. She shook her head. “But two hours is a long drive. You might want to stay over.”

His thoughts exactly. He could almost thank that jerk Broadstreet and snoopy Sandra Westport for being collective pains in the backside. It gave him just the excuse he was looking for.

“Good idea.”

When the elevator doors opened on her floor, she looked up. “Thanks, Nate. You don’t have to walk me all the way. Goodbye.”

“My grandmother taught me always to see a lady to her door.”

“It’s really not necessary.”

He thought he’d gotten her past nerves, but obviously he’d been wrong. “Please, Katie—let me see you safely to your room. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Okay.” She walked quickly down the hall and stopped in front of Room 327. After sliding her key card into the slot, she waited for the blinking green light, then depressed the handle to open the door a crack. “Well, goodbye, Nate. It was good to see you again.”

Nervously, she stepped inside and started to close the door. He put his palm up to keep her from shutting it and a flicker of something that looked like fear flashed through her eyes. He dropped his hand. “Wait, Katie. There’s something I wanted to ask—”

“Yes?” She met his gaze and the pulse in her throat fluttered wildly. Was she uneasy around him? What had he done to make her so edgy?

“I’m alone.”

She looked up and down the hall. “Yeah. I sort of figured that out.”

“And you’re alone.”

“And you know this—how?”

“You told me so earlier—when we were sitting on the bench.”

“Right. I forgot,” she mumbled. “Do you remember everything?”

When it was as important as her marital status, he did. “I try.”

“So, what’s your point? I’m sure you have one.”

“I do.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “The thing is, I hate to eat alone.”

“Oh.”

She said it as if she hadn’t considered the possibility he would ask her to dinner. Definitely not a flirt. With his geek days behind him, aggressive women had been something he’d learned to deal with. He was out of practice with the reluctant kind.

“Would you have dinner with me?”

“I’m pretty tired,” she said. Funny, she didn’t even pretend to think about it.

“We could order room service. Your room or mine,” he suggested.

Instantly she tensed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He’d thought it an excellent idea. But the expression on her face backed up her statement. He remembered her looking like that the night she’d broken up with Ted Hawkins. Pale and shaken and afraid.

“Okay,” he said, unwilling to push. “We can talk tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” she said vaguely. “Goodbye, Nate.”

He frowned at the closed door. There was something very wrong with her and he couldn’t shake the feeling that Katie Price had scars on her soul even more harmful than the ones on her face. Which was why he was determined not to let her push him away.

He wouldn’t give up on her.

Chapter Three

Kathryn sat in one of the two chairs at the small circular table in front of her window and sipped her morning coffee. Her room had a view of the clock tower at Saunders University. The spire pushing through the thicket of trees was like a sentinel. Or a lone survivor. Like her.

She loved mornings and had felt that way even after the accident, when her life was nothing but a series of question marks. Would she survive? Would she walk again? Without a limp? Would she be scarred forever? Now she knew the answers: yes, yes, almost, and yes.

The miracle workers at the rehabilitation hospital had done their best to get her back on her feet and as close to her pre-accident appearance as possible. It had been months before she’d been pushed out of the rehab nest with a hearty “fly, be free.” And now her life was only a single question mark, but it was a doozy. Now what?

The summons from Professor Harrison had enabled her to put the answer aside. And she was relieved, which probably made her a coward. And she hated that she was. She hated being weak. But she was trying to face facts. And the fact was, she was glad to put off a decision about her future. Besides, she genuinely wanted to do what she could for the professor. She could manage to stay at the hotel for a few days and hope to meet with the board of directors to give her testimonial. Then, because her modeling career had come to a screeching halt, she had to figure out what she was going to be when she grew up.

For the moment, she was stuck in her room with no place to go, even if she wanted to. Which she didn’t. After yesterday, she had to conclude that she was very bad at slipping in and out of places unseen. Although the silver lining had been running into Nate. Just thinking his name turned the silver lining into a warm glow centered deep in her midsection.

For all the good it did her.

Yesterday she’d shut the poor man down faster than an airport on high alert. That was something the accident hadn’t changed. Once a social geek, always a social geek. What had happened in college just intensified the condition. Her agent had given her the lecture about career success depending on being seen and photographed with the right people if she wanted to make it to the top. That had been just before she’d hit life’s rock bottom. Her agent hadn’t dumped her, but then he didn’t have to. No one was calling with work for a face that looked like hers. She’d only had one offer and she’d turned it down.

So she’d never flexed her social muscles and on some level that had been a relief. But poor Nate. He’d been on the receiving end of her nerdiness and was probably out counting his lucky stars while doing the dance of joy that she’d saved him from himself.

A knock on her door startled her. She wasn’t expecting anyone.

She stood and walked over to look through the peephole. Surprise mixed with pleasure when she recognized Nate. She waited for uneasiness, and was a little amazed when it never came. Instead, she was grateful that he hadn’t washed his hands of her.

She removed the chain lock and opened the door. “Hello.”

“Good morning.” He studied her. “You look well rested.”

She winced inwardly even though his tone was nothing but friendly. But she knew he was needling her about the transparent way she’d turned down his invitation. And she deserved the teasing. The irony was that she liked him. Way to make him like her back, she thought. But she’d learned the hard way that familiarity breeds contempt. And it worked both ways. The more he learned about her, the more likely he’d be to leave her in the dust.

“I’m fine,” she said. “How are you?”

“Never better.” He grinned as he leaned a broad shoulder against the door frame and folded his arms across his chest.

Today he was casually dressed in jeans and a sport shirt with a very expensive logo on the front. He’d been pretty devastating in his suit and tie, but this look made her weak in the knees. And that was only one of the reasons she refused to invite him into her room.

“I don’t mean to sound blunt—”

“But?” he said. “And before you ask, no one starts out like that unless there’s a but coming.”

“But,” she said, struggling not to smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I believe we said we’d talk today.”

“Yes. But I thought you were just being nice.” With no intention of following through.

“So you think I’m that superficial?”

“I hardly know you well enough to judge. I’m just being realistic.”

“Realistic about judging me?” One eyebrow lifted. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. You don’t remember me, but you’re making judgments about what I will or won’t do.”

“You’re twisting this like a pretzel.”

“Twisting is such an ugly word.”

“But accurate,” she challenged.

“To be more precise, I’m clarifying.”

“I’m not going to debate with you. Obviously you’d win.”

“I like winning,” he admitted.

“So what are you here to talk about?”

He straightened and slid his fingertips into the pockets of his jeans. “I tracked down Sandra Westport and talked to her on the phone.”

“I see. Did you convince her to back off on Professor Harrison?”

He shook his head. “No, but I talked her into having lunch with me so I could do that.”

“Good luck.”

“I could use some. Not to mention backup,” he said, giving her a pointed look.

“Me?”

He nodded. “Yeah. She might feel less threatened if there was another woman present. I’d rather not look like the big bad bully.”

“I couldn’t,” she said automatically.

“True. No one would ever mistake you for a bully.”

“No. I meant I couldn’t possibly go with you.”

He shook his head. “Technically, that’s not true. I’ll drive. All you have to do is sit in the passenger seat. We meet Sandra at the restaurant, order food and eat. That’s exceedingly doable.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Yeah.”

“Be serious, Nate.”

“I am. About needing some help.”

“Not mine. I’m probably the last person Sandra Westport wants to have lunch with.” Kathryn had turned down a request from the other woman, only a week or two ago. It was highly unlikely Nate would benefit by her presence at lunch.

“You’d really be doing me a big favor if you’d come along,” he insisted.

“What part of no don’t you understand?” she asked.

“The N and the O. I’m very fragile,” he teased.

There was nothing fragile about him, not in the way his shirt hugged his muscular biceps or the masculine way he filled out his jeans. But when she looked closer, for a split second, his eyes showed a hint of hurt. Then it was gone and she wasn’t sure she’d seen it at all. Just her imagination. She didn’t have the power to wound him. They didn’t know each other well enough. And why in the world would he even want to get to know her better when he could have his pick of perfect women? A man with his blow-in-my-ear-and-I’ll-follow-you-anywhere-good-looks would not be bothered by a rejection from someone who looked like her.

“Fragile my foot,” she blurted out. “This isn’t about you, Nate.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he asked, suddenly serious.

“No, I don’t think you do.”

“Then you’d be wrong. In spite of what you think, I’m not an insensitive jerk.”

“I don’t think that—”

“Obviously you do,” he interrupted. “In my own defense let me point out that I got it when you hid behind your sunglasses. I’m not so self-absorbed that I don’t get that you’ve been through something traumatic.”

“There’s no way you can understand what I’m feeling,” she retorted.

“There’s that jumping to conclusions thing again. How can you possibly know what I would or would not understand?”

“Come on. It’s not jumping to conclusions when the man looks like you.” She stared at him. “You belong in the sexiest lawyer section of People magazine’s sexiest man of the year issue. You couldn’t possibly know what it feels like to look in the mirror and know this is the best you’re ever going to look. You can’t understand what it feels like when people won’t look you in the eye because they see the scars and don’t know how to deal with it.”

He frowned. “This isn’t about other people. It’s about you, Katie. You can’t sit passively in a room. Life isn’t a spectator sport. It happens if you let it.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, Nate. No one knows better than me that life happens. It happened all over my face and it isn’t pretty.”

“Now who’s twisting words?”

“I’m just saying, until you’ve walked in my shoes, don’t presume to know how I feel.”

“And I’m saying things aren’t always the way they seem. Have you ever heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder?”

“That’s baloney.”

One eyebrow rose. “The Katie I knew wasn’t a glass-is-half-empty person.”

That arrow sliced clear to her soul and drew blood. “I resent that. It’s not pessimism, it’s realism.”

“You say tomato, I say toe-mah-toe. You say potato—”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake.”

“No, for mine.”

He looked so sincere, and her steadfast resolve began to waver. It had all seemed so simple before he showed up in the flesh. He’d accepted her turndown; she was okay with that. But now, seeing all that attractive flesh, engaging in stimulating verbal sparring, she wasn’t sure about anything. Except that suddenly the loneliness she hadn’t even acknowledged loomed black and frightening. She hadn’t realized how isolated and alone she’d felt since her accident.

He was there and she found his larger-than-life personality so very appealing, so very difficult to resist. Even for her—the ice queen. But she knew not resisting was a prerequisite for disaster. If she made the mistake of letting him close, the ugliness from her past was certain to come out and she simply couldn’t bear that after working so hard to bury it.

“Look—” he ran his fingers through his hair “—all I’m trying to say is that you can’t stand at a fork in the road indefinitely. Sooner or later you’ll get run over.”

This time she couldn’t suppress a smile. “Don’t tell me. Let me guess. You do motivational speaking on the side.”

He grinned. “Busted.”

“I knew it.” That boyish expression combined with his square-jawed, lean good looks, and perseverance and genuine likability propelled her stomach into a triple backflip.

“Actually I’m just a hardworking attorney who’s only interested in motivating you to go out with me.” Again he twisted and clarified.

“I don’t know, Nate.”

“I do.” He reached out a hand, but didn’t touch her. “Look, Katie, whether you believe it or not, I know how to take no for an answer. But I hope I won’t have to.”

She shook her head. “I just can’t go to lunch with you and Sandra.”

“Okay. Then how about just me?”

“What? I thought you needed to try and get her to cut the professor some slack.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’ll see Sandra and try to get her to back off. Then we can have dinner tonight. Please?”

No was on the tip of her tongue, but Kathryn hadn’t counted on his ability to captivate her. Suddenly she was the one who didn’t understand the N and the O.

“All right. Dinner,” she said. “But, Nate, could we—”

“You order room service. I’ll be here about seven?”

She nodded. “Seven.”

When he was gone she closed her door and leaned against it. How was she grateful? She mentally ticked off the ways. He was sensitive to her need for privacy with these baby steps forward. But he didn’t know some of her hesitation was because this was her first step with a man since that awful night in college. He’d worn down her defenses with his charming verbal assault and she hoped she didn’t regret her decision. Still, she trusted him and for the life of her she couldn’t explain why.

But she didn’t need a mirror to know she was grinning from ear to ear. Defenses be damned. For the first time in a long time she was looking forward to an evening with a very charming and attractive man.

Nate was anticipating dinner with Katie that night and nearly missed the turn for the Italian restaurant where he’d agreed to meet Sandra Westport for lunch. He’d thought getting her phone number would be difficult until he talked to his paralegal, Rachel James. Nate had given her some time off to assist Professor Gilbert in locating a former student who might be able to help save his job at the university. She didn’t know it yet, but her time off would be with full pay even though suspicious Sandra had enlisted her support in her crusade for the truth. Whatever that was. At least Rachel had a phone number for the woman.

He parked and went inside, the smell of garlic and spices making his mouth water. Skipping breakfast did that to a guy. When he explained he was meeting someone, the hostess showed him to an outside table where Sandra was already waiting, sipping an iced tea.

While he’d been nosing around Saunders U, he’d seen her. Their paths had crossed in the last couple weeks and fortunately she hadn’t remembered him from college. But he couldn’t forget the beautiful blond, blue-eyed cheerleader who’d hung out at the Alpha Omega fraternity house with David Westport, her boyfriend. He wondered how much she remembered from that time. Did she know that he’d rigged the house’s security cameras to film in the bedrooms? And would the curious woman going after a good man like the professor believe Nate had been duped into using his expertise to do it?

Joining that boys-will-be-boys society was something else he wished he could forget. How in God’s name had his past become so littered with regrets? Where was the guy with dreams of using his knowledge and skills for people in trouble who desperately needed it? Officially that’s what he did, but only someone in trouble who could afford his exorbitantly high fee. How had he gone so far off his original path?

He pushed the thoughts away and braced for hurricane Sandra. He held out his hand. “Sandra? Nate Williams.”

Her eyes widened. “Nate Williams? You loaned me your handkerchief.”

“When you were crying,” he remembered. “I hope everything is better now.”

“Williams,” she said. “That’s what the W was for. I’ve been calling you Mr. W.”

“That works. Thanks for meeting me.” He sat.

“Fortunately you caught me on a Friday. The only other days I come into Saunders are Monday and Wednesday.”

That was still enough time to do the professor damage, unless he could convince her to abandon her crusade. “Have you already ordered?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. But I know for a fact that the food is great. David and I have eaten here and I highly recommend the pasta primavera. Unless a macho guy like you needs his daily ration of raw meat.”

He wondered if the barb indicated she was aware of his high-profile profession. When she didn’t say more, he ignored it. And he was grateful she apparently didn’t remember that in his fraternity days he was the overweight geek in the corner, hibernating and hoping no one would notice him. These days he always made healthy food choices. It was easier with money. Almost everything was.

“That sounds good to me.” He ordered for them, then met her gaze. “How are you and David?”

She looked radiant. “We couldn’t be better.”

“Tell me about the two of you.”

“We have a family. Twins. Molly unfortunately inherited my naturally curly hair and Michael favors David with his black hair.”

“That’s great. Twins must be a challenge.”

“Yes. But I love it. Takes some doing to juggle motherhood with my job at the newspaper. So right now I just do small-town stuff. David coaches Little League and soccer for our kids’ teams. Once an athlete, always an athlete. Passing those good physical genes on to the next generation. Although how that translates into Ping-Pong is anyone’s guess.”

“Excuse me?”

She laughed. “The twins have their hearts set on being the first brother-sister Ping-Pong team in the Olympics.”

“Goals are good.”

“And to pay for those goals we own a small grocery in the North End of Boston. Which is probably way more information than you wanted.” She took a breath. “And what about you?”

“I’m a lawyer. My office isn’t far from where your store is.”

“So you’re an attorney,” she said, studying him closely.

“Yes.” He tensed, waiting for the “aha” moment. The instant when she recognized him from some press conference for a high-profile case he’d handled or a news segment analyzing his courtroom performance. He hoped Nickelodeon trumped nightly news in her house. When she didn’t say anything, he allowed himself to relax.

“Did you always want to be an attorney?”

He nodded and relaxed a little more. Anyone who really knew him from college would remember that.

“Do you like what you’re doing?”

“Do you always ask so many questions?”

She smiled. “It’s a reporter thing.”

“Is your vendetta against Professor Harrison a reporter thing?” Nate asked.

“It’s a reporter’s responsibility to search out the truth.”

“No matter who gets hurt?”

She sighed. “I look at it like going to the doctor. Sometimes it hurts, but knowing what’s going on always brings you peace of mind in the long run.”

“I disagree.” He didn’t want anyone knowing what was really going on with him. Especially Katie. “So, what have you got against the professor?”

Frowning, Sandra leaned forward. “Are you asking specifically? Or just inquiring about my general motivation?”

“Either. Both.” Nate lifted one shoulder. “Whatever you want to tell me.”

“I’m simply trying to learn the truth.”

“Even if it costs him the career he loves? A way of life that’s all he has since his wife died?”

“There’s something strange going on with him, Nate.”

“Define ‘something.’”

“I’ve been digging—”

“From what I hear, you could be halfway to China.”

She smiled. “Very funny. The thing is, I’m finding some disturbing patterns in the professor’s behavior.”

The waiter appeared and set their plates of pasta in front of them. When they were alone again, Nate met her gaze. “What kind of patterns?”

“Let me start with David. He’s a gifted athlete, and a very intelligent man—”

“I can see you’re not prejudiced,” Nate commented, noting the glow of love that sparkled in her blue eyes. A hollow feeling opened wide in the center of his chest because a man like himself could never hope for what she had—love and a family.

She grinned. “Not me. I’m into the facts. The fact is, I love my husband.”

“I envy you.”

“Don’t sidetrack me.”

“Okay. So you were saying that David’s a rocket scientist,” he said, getting back on the subject.

She laughed. “Hardly. But in spite of above-average IQ, in high school he was more interested in sports than learning and no one was more surprised than David when he received a scholarship. There are supposed to be academic standards for those and his grades just weren’t high enough.”

“How did he get it?”

“Courtesy of a mysterious benefactor.”

The professor had mentioned that. “Do you know who this person is?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. I’ve come across more records and found some troubling irregularities.”

“So what does that have to do with the professor?”

She frowned. “I haven’t found a solid link, at least not on paper. But in every instance of an undeserved scholarship or pulling strings in some way, the person involved was mentored by Professor Harrison.”

“That’s not proof of anything. It’s coincidence. Circumstantial.”

“Tell me about it. But he’s the common denominator. The link to this mysterious patron.”

“I don’t get it, Sandra. Someone is doing good—like the Lone Ranger—and you’re looking to lynch him from the highest tree.”

“It’s never okay to do the wrong thing, even if it’s for the right reason. There are rules and they’re meant to be followed. As a lawyer, I’m surprised you’d even question something so basic.”

That’s because she didn’t know him. “As a lawyer I know everything isn’t always black and white. There’s a lot of gray areas, which is why we’ve got judges.”

She put down her fork and studied him closely. “Hmm.”

“What?” he asked sharply.

“You remind me of someone. I thought so the couple times I saw you on campus and I can’t shake the feeling now.”

Oh, for crying out loud. Did she mean the geek he used to be? Or the high-profile defense attorney he was now? If she remembered either one it was bad news.

“They say everyone has a double.”

“I’ve heard that.”

Time to change the subject and one of his favorites was Katie. “Do you remember Kathryn Price?”

Instantly she looked up and frowned. “Do I? College beauty queen. Model on her way to superstardom. Yeah, I remember her.”

“What’s wrong?”

“David and I decided to start a camp for disadvantaged children.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. He felt guilty about that scholarship he didn’t deserve, and then wasted. So together we came up with the camp idea to use his strengths and talents as sort of cosmic payback for the gift he once received.”

“That’s a great idea.”

She smiled. “We think so.”

“But?” he prompted.

“We need funding to get it off the ground and decided to impose on our college ties with Kathryn Price. I contacted her through her agent to be the celebrity face for our project and get the donations going.”

“What happened?”

“She refused.” Her mouth pulled tight. “Rachel James got just a glimpse of her here in Saunders.”

“Rachel is my paralegal.”

“Small world,” Sandra said.

“Yeah. So what did she say?”

“She said Kathryn was wearing a scarf covering most of her face.”

“And big sunglasses?” he asked.

“Maybe. Rachel didn’t mention that. But she said the wind lifted the scarf enough to see there was something wrong with her face.”

“So that explains why she turned you down.”

“No, it doesn’t. Her agent said she refused to even hear the details. So we never got a chance to pitch the idea. I can’t help thinking she’s turned into a snob.”

Anger churned in his gut. “For someone who preaches the truth above everything, you’re certainly jumping to conclusions.”

She looked surprised. “Oh?”

He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “There could be a thousand reasons she turned you down.”

“Like what?”

“She’s out of the country on a shoot. She doesn’t like sports. She doesn’t like you or David. She’s busy with a hundred other philanthropic projects that are more near and dear to her heart. Like ballet. Or basket weaving. Or sand sculpture.”

Sandra looked surprised. “Wow.”

Wow, indeed. When did he forget to censor everything that came out of his mouth? He’d learned to do it in college when any slip could result in being the butt of a painful joke. As a lawyer, the health of his career depended on editing his thoughts, words and deeds. But just now, he’d worn his heart on his sleeve. Not smart, Williams, he thought.

“I guess I know where you’re coming from,” Sandra said.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I’d say that was a typical male reaction to an incredibly beautiful woman.”

“Oh.” Good. He wasn’t busted after all. “The thing is, I ran into Katie—Kathryn. I happen to know she has a good reason for turning you down.”

“And what would it be? Surely not sand sculpture,” she said wryly.

“No.” He laughed sheepishly. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“You know that just makes a reporter more curious and determined.”

“I know.” Snooping reporters were the bane of his existence. But Katie was none of her business. “All I’ll say is that she’s fragile and needs a little time. You need to cut her some slack.”

He hoped that didn’t pique her journalist’s curiosity and get her off the professor only to go after Katie. “Look, Sandra, I came here to convince you to leave Professor Harrison alone. He’s only ever wanted to help students. I think this witch hunt is wrong after all he’s done.”

“Wrong has been done, all right. Students who had the credentials to receive those scholarships were victimized. What about justice for them?”

He read the determination in her expression and knew when he was hitting his head against the wall. “So I can’t convince you to back off?”

“Not on a bet.”

“Okay. Then let me help you.”

“Why?” she asked suspiciously.

“So I can prove you’re wrong about him. That he didn’t do anything improper.”

“You’re on.” She nodded emphatically. “I’ve got a ton of files to go through. As an attorney, you should be into file minutiae.”

“Yeah,” he groaned. “I live for the opportunity to look for a needle in a haystack.”

“I’ll give you a stack to go through. The thing is, Nate,” she said sincerely, “if he acted dishonestly, he should pay the price.”

“Even if good came out of it? Wrong thing, right reason?”

“It’s still wrong.”

The pasta primavera settled like a stone in Nate’s stomach. Her words felt like an indictment of his own life. He represented felons. Not an especially noble profession. He wasn’t the man his grandmother had raised and she wouldn’t be proud of what he’d become. He wasn’t particularly proud of himself, either, and hadn’t been for a long time. It never mattered before, but it did now.

Because of Katie.

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