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Bound to Her

Deborah Pin

English teacher Katrina’s patience is put to the test when sexy

detective Dillon saunters into her classroom forty-five minutes late for parent-teacher conferences. Their first meeting is anything but

amicable—but they’re soon together again in an entirely different and more unpleasant situation.

When Dillon responds to a home invasion and assault, the last person

he expects to see is his son’s fiery-tempered—and damn attractive—

teacher, who has been haunting his thoughts since he aggravated her only days before.

It soon becomes clear that Katrina’s attacker’s intentions are far more

sinister than anyone initially realized and Dillon and Katrina’s time together becomes a necessity. But as the investigation heats up and their

attraction mounts, Dillon is faced with a choice. Ignore the rules about getting involved with a witness—or risk it all for love.

Bound to Her

Debora Pin

Chapter One

Katrina wasn’t at all sure she wouldn’t call the man up and scream at

him if he didn’t arrive soon. Last damn one of the day and he was standing her up. Her blasted head hurt as if it were in a vise. A vise that

was tightening with every minute this man kept her waiting.

She rifled through her desk drawer, hoping to find something with a

painkiller in it. Cold medicine. Great. But she was desperate and it had acetaminophen in it. It might leave her wired for hours thanks to a good

kick of real ephedrine but she’d rather be wired than in pain.

“Are you Mrs. Page?” The voice was deep and masculine. Authority

oozed from the assured tone.

But this was her damn meeting. She slammed the drawer on her finger as she righted her body to see who spoke. As the pain bit into her

fingertip, the words escaped her before she could reel them back in. “Son

of a bitch!”

He simply watched her appraisingly with an impassive expression

that caused a knot of rage to twist in her gut. She didn’t need to know the

man to guess who he was and he was late. She also held him completely

responsible for her headache and that wasn’t helping her vengeful

attitude. It was damn near eight o’clock in the evening and she was done with this day.

“You must be Mr. Adler. And it’s Ms. by the way. You are aware

you’re late?” Her voice was curt and cool.

“Yes. I’m sorry but I got tied up and—”

“I don’t care.” Oh boy was she in a mood. “I’ve been here since seven

this morning. It’s now nearly eight at night. The least you could have done was call the office and let them know you were running late. They

stayed open for just such a purpose tonight but I’m guessing whatever it

is you were doing was far more important than this. Does that about sum

it up?”

He watched her for a moment, saying nothing, giving nothing away

by the bland expression on his face. “As I said, I’m sorry. I’m a single

parent and—”

“Contrary to what you obviously think, you’re not my only single

parent and every last one of them managed to make it to their assigned

appointment.” Damn. In a mood didn’t quite touch her irritation with this man.

He studied her intently but without so much as the slightest reaction

to her anger. He was handsome—dark-brown hair, five o’clock shadow,

oddly pretty eyes for such a masculine, brooding appearance. However

stunning his light-brown eyes were, they were searing into her at the moment. He was tall and fit and she was fighting to hold his intense stare

rather than letting her gaze wander down his strong frame.

“Please have a seat.” Her voice was curt as she pulled her folder back

out from her drawer.

He eyed the nearest desk. “I think I’ll stand, thank you.”

“Very well. I’m Seth’s homeroom teacher and I’m also the seventh

grade English teacher. I’ve received reports from his other subjects to review with you as well. Seth is doing well in his math and science courses—above average in both—but he’s struggling with history and

literature. I’m concerned his reading comprehension isn’t where it ought

to be. This is his first year of junior high and I’m worried he could fall behind quickly if his reading comprehension doesn’t improve.”

“I see. Do you have some recommendations?” The man’s jaw was

tight but there was no mistaking the concern. He might not like her—not

that she cared—but he was obviously concerned about his son’s

progress. She shouldn’t be surprised but after their rough start she was.

“We have a reading group for students who are struggling—”

“My son knows how to read, Ms. Page.” He was starting to sound

annoyed again—almost as much as she still was.

“I’m not suggesting he doesn’t, but reading comprehension doesn’t

simply revolve around reading as much as it does remembering and

understanding what one reads. This group specifically addresses those concerns and I would recommend you consider putting him in this study

group.”

His jaw was working and his nostrils flared for a moment as he

appeared to stew in irritation. He wasn’t the first parent to hear bad

news during conferences and she supposed their rocky start hadn’t helped matters. She let the words sink in as she unconsciously pushed on

her head between her eyebrows, trying to stifle the throbbing pain in her

head.

“Are you all right?” His voice was suddenly far gentler than it had been and the crease between his brows looked of concern, though she couldn’t imagine it after how she’d treated him. She had been rude. More

than rude and that wasn’t Katrina’s habit.

“I’m fine. I just have a headache.” He studied her for a moment

longer with his arms crossed on his chest as he appraised the situation.

“Very well. What do I need to do to sign him up for the group?”

“Nothing at all. I’ll take care of it. The group meets in my classroom

during morning study hall, so it won’t conflict with any of his current courses.”

“Fine. I’m sorry I was a bit late.” His words were clipped and he didn’t sound at all sorry. He still sounded annoyed and what right did he

have? She was annoyed and as he turned to leave, it was with a frustrated shake of his head that ratcheted up her own irritation just a hair further.

“Yes well, I’m sorry I was a bit rude earlier.” Her words sounded no

more apologetic than his but it was more a taunt than real regret she was

imparting and her voice sounded of sarcasm. He’d only barely managed

an apology and a pathetic one at that, so he’d get nothing better from her.

He paused. He took a moment to turn toward her again and when he

did she watched his very chiseled, handsome jaw work on his rather beautiful face as his very delicious-looking mouth pursed. “You weren’t

a bit rude. You were exceptionally rude.” His hands were on hips as he squared off with her but Katrina was used to rude parents and she wasn’t going to be intimidated by this one.

She stood putting her own hands on her hips. “Yes? Well you weren’t

a little late. You were exceptionally late!” His eyebrows shot up as he watched her for a moment before turning once more and sauntering his

handsome ass away from her.

“Have a good evening, Ms. Page.” He didn’t even bother looking

back at her.

“What’s left of it.” She muttered under her breath to the empty room.

He was long gone.

She packed up, thinking her brain might fall out through her nose as

she bent over. She slung her laptop bag and book bag over her shoulder

and flipped the light switch as she left the room. The building was silent

as she headed toward the exit and the only sound that could be heard was the clicking of her heels along the old concrete floors. Even the custodians were finished for the day. She was alone.

She hated this place when it was empty. It scared the crap out of her,

really. The usually bustling, loud and busy halls were terrifyingly still and ghostly. It was the perfect setup for a horror movie and she happened to be walking through this most unsettling scene by herself in

near darkness.

She pulled her pepper spray from the side of her book bag as she neared the exit door and as she bumped it open with her hip she nearly

careened into Mr. Adler. She was sure he must have a first name but she’d be damned if she’d gotten it or paid attention to whether it was on

her schedule or not. It was only after she realized she was aiming the pepper spray at him and his hands were up that she realized just how hard her heart was pounding.

“Maybe point that elsewhere. I’m thrilled to see you’re carrying it but

it’s not warranted with me, I assure you.” His voice was still intense and

harsh but she couldn’t deny she was relieved to see him.

“I’m not so sure of that. What are you still doing here?” It didn’t mean

she was suddenly going to start being a sweetheart.

He looked around a bit with his lips pursed for a moment. It was almost a sheepish expression, if this man was capable of such a thing.

“The parking lot was empty—the building was too. I didn’t want to leave

you here by yourself.” He was muttering. He was definitely still irritated

—about as irritated as she felt—but it didn’t stop her cheeks from burning hot. Fortunately, the only light was coming from the parking lot

lights. It was otherwise dark as pitch.

It was a chilly Seattle night midway through the spring semester and

she shivered as she pulled her jacket tighter around her.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said.

Well she wasn’t going to argue with that—not when her heart was

still thudding away.

“Maybe you could put the pepper spray away now?”

“Yeah. Um…thanks for sticking around. I appreciate it. I can’t stand

this place when there’s no one here.”

“Well, it is my fault you’re here so late. It’s the least I could do.” They

walked in silence to her lovely, sensible and used Subaru Outback. He watched her climb in and raised his hand in a casual gesture as he turned

from her toward his not-so-sensible but far-more-rugged Chevrolet

Tahoe.

He was really something else to look at. Asshole of a personality, but

hot damn he had the butt of an Adonis. He was wearing slim-cut

charcoal-gray wool slacks that hugged his body beautifully and a light-

gray dress shirt. It was dressy but not over the top. She got lost at the sight of that ass and it was only when she peered up quickly to his face

and realized he was standing at his car door staring at her that she snapped back to this world. Fuck!

He stared at her without an inkling of expression until she fumbled with her key that was already in the ignition, realizing too late that her

car had already started. It made a god-awful noise as she turned over the

engine again and he continued to eye her impassively.

She threw her car into drive, nearly screeching out of her parking space as she took off. She snatched up her cell phone, dialing quickly.

“So you know how I’m literally the world’s biggest dumbass?”

“Of course I do. I mean, anyone who knows you knows you take the

cake on idiocy.” It was Imogen, her best friend with whom she’d felt the

need to call and share her humiliation. Imogen was a feisty brat from the

U.K. who Katrina had met during their first year of college. They hadn’t

been apart since, including working for the same school system. Imogen

had obviously gotten home from parent-teacher conferences long before

Katrina had.

“Right, well, add another log to the idiot pile. What the f-bomb is wrong with me?”

“You’re not in school, love. You can say fuck. No detention, I swear.”

“Fuck fuck fuckity fuck! Why? Why? I mean really? Why am I such a moron?” Katrina was whizzing through streets, speeding far more than

she should but the streets were fairly deserted and she was done done done being responsible for the day.

“Uh oh, Trink. What happened?”

“You know I hate it when you call me Trink. Why can’t

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