A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(20)

6


Kat rolled over and shut the alarm off before it even turned on. She was wide-awake and had been for over an hour.

She’d tossed and turned all night thinking and deliberating about what her next move would be with Carter. Their second lesson had been a complete disaster, and that was putting it mildly. She’d tried to be calm. God, how she’d tried. But it wasn’t enough. She’d still managed to become enraged by him.

She had no idea what it was about him. He was, after all, just like the other men she taught. Well, that wasn’t exactly true; he was a lot more combative and exceedingly more aggressive and—she winced at the thought—a lot more attractive, too. She’d tried not to see him in any other way than as her student, but it was hard to ignore the man who drove her crazy.

She rubbed her palms down her face. She knew better than to get involved in any way with any person she taught. The nonfraternization policy of the prison was clear and succinct, and Kat loved her job too much to put it in any kind of jeopardy. She was a professional and no one, not even Carter, could make her forget that.

But Carter was at his most stunning when he was furious. His rage seemed to make his skin glow and the frown lines, which Kat imagined were indentations caused by his hatred for everything around him, dissolved, leaving his face serene and flawless. He was, in those moments, the most breathtaking creature she had ever seen.

As scared as she was when he’d flung the desk at the wall during her class, she’d been unable to tear her eyes from him, watching with fascination as the beast inside him roared. He was animalistic and, for that brief time, utterly uncaged. It was that thought alone that made parts of Kat’s body come alive in spectacular fashion; it was a side of Carter she desired and detested with equal fervor.

Regardless, no matter what her body thought of the matter, Kat knew the guard twisting his wrist was completely unacceptable. Carter hadn’t deserved that.

And she would tell Anthony Ward that very thing when she got to work.

But, for whatever reason, Anthony Ward was not at work when she got there later that morning. A little disheartened and still a lot confused, Kat began preparing her classroom, trying her hardest not to think about whether Carter would turn up. She pulled at the hem of her blouse in frustration when she realized the part of her that wanted him in her classroom far outweighed the part that didn’t, and cursed loudly.

“Wrong side of the bed this morning?”

Rachel’s voice floated from the doorway, clearing Kat’s head for all of five seconds before the battle within started again in earnest. She smiled and raised her eyebrows, unable to articulate correctly why she was cursing to an empty room.

“He’s been removed,” Rachel said plainly while placing her bag on her seat.

Kat turned. “What?”

“Carter.” Rachel shrugged. “Ward told him his temper is out of control. He’s a danger to himself and others.”

“Shit. How did he take it?”


Rachel gave her a wry smile. “As Carter always does: with a few curses and a growl.” She took a step toward Kat. “This is going to affect his parole.”

Kat’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. She didn’t even know he’d been considered for it.

“When is his parole application up for review?” Kat asked.

“The end of the month.”

Kat’s newfound need to work with Carter instead of against him surprised her. She’d known him all of two days, spoken maybe a dozen words to him, mostly through gritted teeth, but still she knew, deep down, somewhere in her stomach, there was something about him, something more—something that set him apart from the other students in her class. Something that called to her in a way she could never explain.