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“Ah, I think we might’ve found each other’s hidey-holes? I try to come here whenever I can. And would you mind not standing so close to the edge? Dragons are ruthless, and Amber more so than the other two.”
Sam’s voice was a little breathless.
“Is that why you choose to spend your evenings on this particular cliff? Because she’s more dangerous than the rest? I think I’m beginning to understand you’re secretly an adrenaline junkie.” Magdalene, still warmed by the earlier realization that Sam worried about her, allowed her lips to quirk upwards.
“Yep, adrenaline junkie - that’s me. Bungee jumping and paragliding and skydiving. All those things. Ask anyone.” Sam stuffed her hands in her pockets and hid a smile that hadn’t seemed entirely sincere behind the neckline of the oversized sweatshirt she was bundled into. It looked four sizes too big for the lithe and fine-boned frame, and Magdalene had the sudden urge to touch it, to feel if it was as soft as it looked. She stuck her hands in her pockets to avoid temptation.
Stick to the topic!
“Ihaveasked, and I don’t believe anyone described you even remotely in those terms. Dependable, steady, responsible. Those were more along the lines of what others say about you, Professor Threadneedle. Could it be that, with one exception, you have done nothing reckless in your entire life?”
No, Magdalene thought as she watched Sam blush furiously and burrow her face further inside the cozy garment, she could not stick to the subject at hand to save her life. This woman just brought out something in her, awakened an impulsivity she was not at all familiar with. She felt reckless, her breathing shallow and fast, in perfect sync with her speeding heart. Why was she even alluding to their night in Manhattan?
She knew why. As Sam’s massive gray eyes peaked from the folds of the sweatshirt, Magdalene felt her heart squeeze.
Adorable…
“You spoke to our colleagues about me?” The voice had that shy quality to it, reminiscent of their time in the elevator, as if a panic attack was imminent, and her impulse to reach out and comfort was just as strong now as it had been then.
At least Sam had settled on a rather safe subject, all things considered.
“I hired you, Professor. I had to check references.” The astonishment on Sam’s face made her want to laugh. Instead, she settled on letting a smile bloom freely. There were some perks to this job she was really going to enjoy, and taking Sam by surprise was definitely going to be one of them.
A pang in one of her heeled feet chose that moment to remind her of the long day she’d had. She took a few steps towards Sam and made to sit in the grass. Before she could, Sam scrambled and took off her hoodie, spreading it on the ground.
“Chivalrous to a fault.” She wanted to sigh at the sweetness of the gesture, and when she spoke, she knew her voice was a little dreamy, but damn if this wasn’t one of the most adorable things anyone had done for her in a long time. The memory of a shoe slipping off her foot and Timothy ignoring it intruded. Why was she even comparing the two? Magdalene had a feeling Sam would stop traffic if need be to retrieve her shoe. Just like she was sacrificing her own comfort for the sake of Magdalene’s.
“That dress is a work of art, it would be a shame to ruin it.” Sam’s eyes left a trail as sensual as a caress as they glanced at her from under those long lashes.
“Dry cleaners exist even in this godforsaken place.”
Magdalene inhaled sharply. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Her resentment for the simplicity and desolation of this backwater that usually bubbled below the surface was rearing its head and roaring. It always made her breath stutter a little as it took her by surprise.
Like when she’d inspected the dormitories and found them to be in shambles? Or when she realized the island had the spottiest cell reception known to humankind? That the internet was unreliable and the computers ancient? That a strange cat insisted on sleeping on the doormat in her studio apartment, and she had yet to find a way to stop it from coming over every evening like clockwork?
Goddess, maybe her mother was right about some things and she had let this resentment and this pain fester for too long?
Her jaw tightened. No, she had a job to do and Sam—of the bright eyes and curious glances and the adorable brow wrinkles when she was pensive—would not distract her.
A distraction of her own was in order, so she changed the subject.
“Speaking of ruined things. What is your bone of contention with Tullinger? He goes out of his way to avoid you and you go out of yours to hide the utter contempt you feel for him. You don’t have the obfuscation skills to quite manage that, Professor.”
“Ah, my famed lack of a poker face.” Sam’s eyes shone so bright, Magdalene was mesmerized.
And so she felt her lips quirk upwards yet again but scrambled to school her features. No need to distract Sam by allowing her to realize just how thoroughly transparent she was right now–contemplative and puzzled and reluctant to share.
Sam looked out on the open waters. Magdalene knew how deceptive they were, always ready to turn stormy and angry in a heartbeat, and she could see the turmoil on that honest face. Caginess wasn’t something that was easy or inherent to this woman. But to Magdalene, treachery was also not an unfamiliar foe, always having to be on her toes, no matter where she went. After all, she had been backstabbed at every single school she’d served.
Yet how to explain to Sam that hurting her was the last thing she wanted? Magdalene sat in silence, giving Sam the time and the choice to share as much or as little as she wanted.
“I’m sure you’re familiar with my history at Dragons. Well, as much of it as is reflected in documentation...” Magdalene nodded, struggling not to reach out and smooth that troubled brow. Yes, she had read Sam’s file and had been surprised at the story even before she knew who Samantha Anne Threadneedle was.
“Stanton Alden and Fredrick Tullinger were my legal guardians, with the school acting as the de facto one, considering I spent pretty much all my time here. Sometimes, either one or the other of the gentlemen would invite me to their homes for holidays and such. I was thirteen when I received my last invitation to spend Christmas with the Tullingers. I socked Joel for being… I guess you can say a pretty horrible brat to me during their Christmas celebration, calling me a dirty orphan and having particularly nasty things to say about my mother and her abandoning me like the worthless human he believed I was. Alden, who was also invited to the Christmas celebration at the Tullingers’, took one look at Joel writhing in the snow, his nose broken and blood gushing everywhere, and told me to get my things.”
Magdalene’s fingers dug into the dirt and grass and she felt a rage unlike any she’d experienced in a very long time. She knew men like these all too well, had been a pawn in their games too many times herself, and despised them with a vengeance. And she was going to strangle that overgrown bully Joel the moment she saw him again.
Sam seemed to read something on her face, but barreled on, voice breaking either from the speed of the narration or emotion, which made Magdalene’s urge to throttle Joel even stronger.
