Naia and the Professor Part 1

Naia and the Professor.

Templar Brothers Trilogy.

Natasha Knight.

Blurb.

Ten years ago, Liam Templar lost everything when Naia White, his student, accused him of spanking her. Because of her, he was forced to give up his teaching license and lost a job he loved, not to mention his reputation. Naia never meant for things to go as far they had, but in the end, she was the reason Professor Templar's career was ruined. Now she's back and wants to make amends.

Liam can forgive her, but only after he's delivered that spanking. Anxious but intrigued, Naia agrees to take her punishment. However, once it's over, both Liam and Naia must face the fact that although they have feelings for one another, they come from two different worlds.

Although Liam's had his heart broken before by women outside of his lifestyle, his feelings for Naia overrule logic. He proposes she spend a weekend with him where she'll come to know his needs and desires. He realizes he must be firm with the once impulsive girl who grew into his ideal woman, but will she run after she spends time in his world?.

Dedication.

This book is dedicated to all those who believe in Happily Ever After.

Acknowledgements.

I'd like to thank B, who only ever smiles while I prattle on about this or that. Your devotion and encouragement mean more to me than you'll ever know.

I'd like to thank those of my friends who know what I write and offer only support and enthusiasm for my work. I am so lucky to have you in my life.

I'd also like to say a very special thank you to my best friend and confidante, Susan Stein. She's read everything from the start: good, bad and in need of lots of revision, and is still asking for more. It took an ocean between us to bring us so close and for that I am grateful.

Chapter 1.

Liam spotted her the minute she set foot inside the club. He sat in his gla.s.s-walled office on the second floor of Templar's s.p.a.cious open stage area. Security cameras lined the walls to keep patrons safe and staff honest. Tonight, like most nights, he sat watching.

He picked her up on the monitors right away. It was quarter to midnight and things were in full swing when she walked in. She was gorgeous, about 5'5" he'd say, from his vantage point. She had long dark hair flowing halfway down her back and, from what he could see, great legs. Great legs usually meant an incredible a.s.s followed. And if there was any part of a woman's body that could drive Liam to his knees, it was a great a.s.s.

He held his breath as he followed her slow progress into the crowded club. She wore a black leather corset that laced up the back and a short skirt, stockings, and high-heeled black boots. Although the outfit was hot and fit within the conservative norm for Templar's patrons, Liam knew it wasn't her usual style. It just didn't fit her.

She had a small frame, her arms and legs tight with lean muscle. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were small too, as usually went with her body type. Unless they'd been altered-and hers definitely were not. Real b.r.e.a.s.t.s were becoming a rare commodity these days and Liam missed them.

A moment later, he angled the camera just so and was treated to a full view of her luscious backside. The smallness of her waist accentuated full hips that swayed with each step. Just then, she stumbled over something and concern crossed his face. He almost stood to catch her, realizing immediately he was behind the monitor in his office and on the second floor. Nowhere near the beauty who had just wandered into his life. His teeth clenched and his jaw worked when he saw another hand catch her. He poised the camera to show her face and when his eyes found hers, he caught his breath and his entire body tensed.

He would know those pale, honey brown eyes anywhere.

What the h.e.l.l was she doing here, in his club?

And who was the man who caught her when she stumbled?

Liam got to his feet. The elevator doors opened and he rode to the main floor. Music a.s.saulted his ears as soon as he stepped out and women turned to him, as they usually did when he set foot here. But tonight he was only interested in one woman. And there she was, at the other end of the room talking to the man who now had his hand possessively at the small of her back.

He clenched his teeth, and fisted his hands. Years old anger, raw like it had been just yesterday, gnawed at him.

At that precise moment, she turned her face in his direction. Although he was too far to be sure, he thought her eyes widened at the sight of him and it took all he had to just keep walking.

As if sensing his predatory approach, the man who had caught her when she'd stumbled turned to face Liam.

"Mr. Templar," the man said, keeping one hand on her as he extended the other.

Naia watched Professor Templar close in on them, all six-foot four terrifying inches of him. She hadn't been able to take her eyes off him since she'd spotted him a moment ago. He still had the same intense gaze that had haunted her dreams for ten years. Older, his body was more muscular, bigger and way more threatening than when he'd been her English Lit Professor in high school.

Her heart pounded in her ears as the men exchanged the briefest of words. His eyes didn't leave hers throughout. The man she had been talking to finally dropped his hand from her back and excused himself. She didn't turn to say goodbye or thank-you-for-not-letting-me-fall-and-make-an-a.s.sof-myself, or anything. She only stared at Professor Templar.

"If it isn't Naia Rhoads," he said. "You're the last person I expected to walk into my club. What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"

Struck by his fierce words, she was momentarily unable to hold his gaze. She cleared her throat, trying to muster up the courage to meet his scorching green eyes.

"It's White now. Naia White." Why did she say that?

"Married the idiot, did you?"

"And divorced him."

"Now that's surprising."

They remained staring at each other for a long, awkward moment until a waitress with a full tray almost knocked into him. He must have seen it just in time because he moved forward a little into Naia's s.p.a.ce and she had to lean back. He simply took up too much room. He had back in high school too, but now it was even more obvious.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Templar," the waitress began, but he cut her off.

"No harm, Kate." He never took his eyes off Naia.

"Professor, I..." Naia began.

"It's not Professor any more, Ms. White. You took care of that, didn't you?"

Naia exhaled, looking down.

"Why are you here, Ms. White?"

"Can you just call me Naia? Please?"

He didn't respond.

"Look, I..." she looked around at the crowded floor of the most popular BDSM club in Denver feeling more than a little out of her element. She was in the city on business. The company she worked for had opened new offices in the area and she'd be the Director of Marketing, a huge promotion for her. "Can we go somewhere more private to talk?" she asked.

"I can't imagine what we'd have to say to one another."

"This isn't easy for me, Pro ... Mr. Templar." She didn't know what she should call him. "Please."

He considered for a tense moment. "We'll have a drink. I know I could use one," he said, gesturing for her to walk ahead of him. Naia s.h.i.+vered when he put his hand to her low back to guide her through to the bar and lounge area. She turned and saw his faint smile over her shoulder and flushed. He'd noticed.

Every table was taken but he weaved through the crowded s.p.a.ce to a reserved private booth at the back. He waited for her to situate herself before slipping in to sit next to her, leaving enough s.p.a.ce between them that they weren't touching. Which was probably a good thing, she thought. He had the same impact on her now, ten years later, as he had when she was a high school senior sitting in the front row of his cla.s.sroom.

She flushed at the memory, feeling his gaze on her. He looked amused, like he knew what she was thinking, but it was better than angry.

"Good evening, Mr. Templar. What can I get for you tonight?" Thank goodness for the waitress, Naia thought.

"What would you like, Ms. White?"

"Vodka tonic please," she said, trying to smile at the girl.

"I'll have the same."

Naia took the time to observe him while he ordered. He'd definitely been working out; his black suit barely contained his powerful chest and arms. Dark hair was pulled back into a long ponytail accentuating bronze skin with the dark shadow of stubble over his square jaw. Beneath the heavy eyebrows, the pale shade of his eyes softened his features a little. They s.h.i.+mmered silver-green and she remembered how they could look so softly at her. But that was once upon a time. There was no kindness in them tonight.

It was at this precise moment he returned his attention to her. Her skin flushed red. Her stomach housed a thousand b.u.t.terflies and she swallowed hard, keeping a tight grip on the purse in her lap. This was a mistake. She should never have come to Club Templar. But when she'd found him, seen this was his club, that he was thriving in Denver's BDSM scene, she couldn't resist. No way. For the last ten years, even through her brief marriage, Liam Templar had been solidly in the back of her mind. Not to mention playing a very prominent role in her s.e.xual fantasies.

They didn't speak until the waitress set their drinks down in front of them and left. He picked his up and sipped while she gulped hers. She'd come here to apologize and go. That was all. But being here now, with him so close, she knew her feelings hadn't changed in all these years. If anything, they'd intensified.

"What is it you want to talk about, Ms. White?" he asked, smiling a smile that wasn't one at all.

"I came to say I'm sorry. What I did back then, it was stupid. I was selfish and young and naive..."

"I would never have called you naive, Ms. White," he said while the grin played on his lips.

She glared at him and stubborn pride a.s.serted itself. "You know what? Forget it. This was a mistake." She scooted toward the other end of the booth where she could make her escape. This was too much. He was still too much for her.

His hand closed around her thigh, just above her knee, holding her in place.

"Ouch!" She winced when it dug into the tender flesh of her leg. "Take your hand off of me." She wouldn't be going anywhere, much less moving an inch, unless he allowed her to.

"You'll sit and you'll finish your drink." His voice was a dark whisper. The smile was back but it still didn't touch his eyes.

With trembling hands, she picked up her gla.s.s, trying to hold his gaze as she swallowed the remainder of her drink.

"Good girl. I'll get you another while you finish with your apology."

"I'm through apologi-" His hand tightened like a vice around her thigh once again.

"You're through when I say you're through. You're in my club, Ms. White. My rules this time. And you should know I don't suffer prissy, spoiled little girls anymore so grow up fast."

The waitress brought two more drinks and left quickly. Perceptive, thought Naia.

"Your accusation ten years ago cost me not only my job but my reputation as well. I couldn't teach after that. Did that brain of yours have any idea what you were doing to my life?" His grip tightened even more.

"You're hurting me, Professor," she whispered, goose b.u.mps covering her body from head to toe. He was pure power, a force to be reckoned with, and her body reacted.

He eased his grip, and then let her go altogether. Picking up his vodka tonic, he drank it down.

"I came to tell you I was sorry. It was my fault, you did nothing wrong. I lied to everyone about you and I don't know what I can do about it now but I want to make amends."

This brought a real smile to his lips, and she felt the color drain from her face.

"Do I make you nervous, Ms. White?" he asked.

She shook her head, her eyes huge with anxiety.

"Liar."

"I should go. I've said what I came to say and you obviously don't care," she said.

His hand once again closed around her thigh.

"You want to make amends? Why? Wait, let me guess, you've found Jesus?" he asked, taunting her. This time he didn't ease up the pressure on her leg even when she made a small, pained noise. "Why, Ms. White?"

Because I can't get you out of my mind, her brain screamed. But her answer to him was a little different. "I feel ... guilt, I suppose."

"So you want to ease your conscience." It was a statement, not a question, and she could see he was thinking.

She waited.

"All right," he began. "Perhaps your guilt's been left unpunished for too long. Has it festered? Making you uncomfortable? How far are you willing to go to ease it, Ms. White?"

She waited, knowing from the look in his eyes he had a plan. How far was she willing to go?

"What if I suggested we start where you claimed I left off ten years ago," he said.

She flushed, knowing what he was alluding to. She'd known he would, hadn't she? Wasn't this what she wanted in fact? "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you're a smart girl. I think you have some idea. But I'll spell it out for you. You told the board that I spanked you, isn't that right?"

Shame reddened her cheeks even more. "In my defense, you did threaten..."

"You knew it wasn't serious." He cut her off, no flirtation in his tone.

"I..." she began, but he was right.

"You knew." If looks could kill...