With His Kiss. Laurey Bright

the force of the water.

      The hand about Triss’s arm jerked her aside and dragged her several yards from the still-struggling mob, leaving her there.

      Wiping her eyes clear, through the spray she saw Steve haul up two wrestling boys from the ground and drive them apart, while Zed dealt with a couple of others, roaring at them to get their effing a’s out of there before he gave those same a’s the kicking their owners deserved.

      Under the combined effect of two big, commanding men and the fire hose wielded by the tutor, the miniriot was quickly quelled. The tutor turned off the hose, and Zed, his brown eyes shooting fire, ordered the culprits off to their rooms to change into dry clothes and warned them they needn’t think this was the end of it.

      Dragging wet hair off her face, Triss stood trying not to shiver, and when Steve approached her, his casual shirt and slacks also soaked, his hair darker than ever and sleeked to his head, she folded her arms about herself so that he wouldn’t notice how unsteady she felt.

      The movement drew his eyes, and the flicker of his long lashes made her look down, flushing as she saw how the water had plastered the thin fabric to her breasts, outlining not only her low-cut lace bra but what was only too clearly underneath it.

      “Sorry you walked into that,” she said, bringing his gaze back to her face.

      “God knows what would have happened if we hadn’t,” Steve said. “What the hell did you think you were doing,” he reiterated, “jumping into the thick of it?”

      “Preventing a possible murder,” Triss retorted. “Or manslaughter at the least. We were getting the situation under control.”

      “It didn’t look under control to me.”

      “I’m sure we’d have managed, but thanks for your help.”

      “Managed how? By getting yourself beaten up?”

      “They wouldn’t hurt me.”

      One dark brow lifted slightly. “Then what’s this?” His voice had roughened, and he raised a hand, the pad of his thumb barely brushing her cheek just below her left eye before he dropped his hand and his eyes narrowed to metallic slits. “Who hit you?”

      Maybe the injury was worse than she’d realized, because despite the lightness of his fleeting touch she felt her skin tingle. “An accident. It doesn’t matter.”

      “It matters.”

      “Thank you for your concern. Although I can’t imagine why you’re bothered.” It wasn’t as though he’d ever cared about her.

      “I guess,” he drawled, “I picked up Magnus’s passion for perfection. I don’t like to see a beautiful thing damaged.”

      The first time she’d ever heard anything like a compliment from him, although it hadn’t sounded like one. “Thank you,” she said, lacing her tone with irony to match his. “But I might remind you that I’m not a thing.”

      Maybe the inclination of his head was an acknowledgment, certainly not an apology. His gaze returned to her sodden blouse. “You’d better change,” he said abruptly, “or when the boys see you again you might have another riot on your hands. Is that what started them off?”

      Taken aback, Triss said, “I got wet when we turned the hose on them to stop the fight!”

      “You don’t need to be wet to set adolescent hormones in motion. But then,” Steve added with a deadly mockery in his tone, “you’d know that, wouldn’t you?”

      Not sure what he was getting at, except that he was baiting her, Triss opened her mouth to ask him just what he meant, but before she got the chance Zed joined them, wringing out the wet shirt he’d taken off. “What was that all about?” he asked Triss.

      “I’ve no idea. I was in the office when I heard it start. Is Arthur all right?” She’d seen Zed take the tutor’s arm as he shuffled back to the house.

      “He’ll live. Nothing broken.”

      “Has this happened before?” Steve asked.

      Zed shrugged. “There’s been the odd fight, you know how they are. They don’t usually all get into it at once.”

      Triss said, “They’ve been through a trauma, and all of them have been trying to be on their best behavior for too long. They’re emotionally off balance.”

      Steve looked at her sharply. “You can’t let them get away with it.”

      Wearily she wiped a trickle of water from her forehead before it reached her eyes. The last couple of months had been no picnic for her either. “I’ll talk to them after dinner.”

      “I’ll do it.”

      Her head lifted. “No.” Did he think he could just walk in and take over? “They don’t know you.”

      “They’re going to. I might as well introduce myself, and make it clear that from now on we don’t tolerate any violence.”

      “We never have! I’m sure this won’t happen again.”

      “I wouldn’t count on it. Young men are pack animals. They’ve lost their alpha male, and they need to know there’s someone around to take his place. Until they accept there’s a new chief there’s going to be a lot of testing going on.”

      “And you’re telling me you’re going to be the new chief?” She didn’t even attempt to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

      Steve leveled an iron-gray gaze at her. “I don’t say it’s a good thing, but it’s the way young males operate, especially in groups. Remember, I used to be one.”

      “They’ve been perfectly fine with me!” In fact most of them had been rather sweetly protective. Although a couple of tutors had complained about a lack of attentiveness and decreased motivation, with the occasional outburst of defiance and foul language.

      “You’re a woman,” Steve said, as though that explained everything.

      “So?”

      “The first phase is over. They won’t challenge you directly, but they’re getting restive, and the next step will be to see how far they can go.”

      “Then I’ll deal with it.”

      “We will deal with it,” Steve said. “We’re in this together, Triss.” In his tone she heard the rider, And I don’t like it any more than you do. “If they’re not given the message about who’s in charge here now, one of them will emerge as kingpin and we’ll have a hell of a job on our hands. They’re barely out of childhood and some of them are only half civilized.”

      “You’ve been reading Lord of the Flies,” she accused, surprising a half smile out him.

      “Not lately,” he said. “But we don’t want someone’s head stuck on a stake around here, and I’d certainly prefer it not to be mine—or yours. We have to make this work, Triss.”

      He was right about that, she supposed. Zed gave an approving nod, and Triss sighed. The men were closing ranks. Magnus himself had believed that boys needed strong male role models. Perhaps that was why he had inexplicably failed to alter his will, despite the long estrangement between him and his protégé. “Do you think it’s a good idea,” she queried Steve, “to start your…tenure by giving them a telling off?”

      “If I stand by while you do it, they’ll think I’m a wuss. Then we’ll both be in deep trouble.”

      Unwillingly she capitulated with a small shrug, knowing that however unpalatable she found it, he was probably right. “I’m not the only one who needs a change of clothes,” she observed. Casting a glance over his own wet shirt and trousers, she couldn’t help noticing he looked as fit and leanly muscular as ever despite his presumably easy lifestyle. “We’ve put you in the annex.” It was a self-contained one-bedroom unit