"I never wanted this and I still don't."

She wished she hadn't come over here now. "Victor, you're already on your second girlfriend. Give up the martyr act."

"One mistake, damn it. You-"

"No," Olivia said, turning her back on him to head for the door. "I'm not doing this. Goodbye. But if I find out that you were the one who called Lewis, so help me God, I'll tell the dean everything I know." She yanked open the door and stepped out, slamming it behind her.

He pulled it open again. "Olivia-"

"And charge your damn phone!"

Backing out, she left him standing there on the top step, his frown fierce as he watched her pull away. He'd dropped the whole "I didn't want the divorce" crap a long time ago, so why was he resurrecting it now? It was sad, she supposed, wanting to have your cake and eat it, too, but she thought he'd moved on months ago.

Still, the state of Victor's heart was no longer her problem. She had real problems to figure out. Such as who'd turned her in. Victor had been right about that one small thing. He wouldn't have done it, not if he was in his right mind.

None of his coworkers knew the specifics behind the divorce: that he'd been sleeping with his teaching assistant. That Olivia had found out when she'd caught an early flight home from a trip to attend her grandfather's funeral.

She'd agreed to keep the truth quiet, her last concession to Victor's career. Still, she'd been shocked at how carefully he'd constructed his deception. That was when she'd realized how good he'd been at lying. As far as his colleagues knew, Olivia and Victor had broken up by mutual, civil agreement. Just a sad split of two people.

But if she told the truth, Victor's reputation would be tarnished. He wouldn't lose his position, but he'd no longer be the golden boy on a straight path to department chair. And there had been other women. Allison, for example, had once been in Victor's class. Olivia was sure it must have started then, as it had with Olivia so long before.

By God, she'd been an idiot, thinking she was the only one. That she'd been special. The truth was that certain men liked the worship of young women. They liked to be the wise mentor, the sexual teacher, the position of authority. And some girls liked that arrangement, too, or once had, long before.

Olivia shook off the memories. That wasn't her anymore, and hadn't been for a long while.

So, if Victor hadn't turned her in, then who? Who else knew? As far as Olivia could figure, Gwen was the only other person who knew both that Jamie was in the class and that Olivia was dating him. But it couldn't be her. No way. So maybe it was circumstantial. Maybe a fellow student had seen them out and been concerned about favoritism. But why? This wasn't a credit course. There wouldn't even be a grade assigned.

Maybe, in the end, Victor was the one who'd called, and he'd simply counted on his ability to lie his way out of any confrontation with her.

When she pulled into her garage, Olivia's mind was as muddled as it had been when she'd stepped out of Lewis's office. She couldn't think. Didn't want to think. And she only knew one way to stop her mind from working, so she changed into her running clothes and set out for the trail.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

"I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS right now," Jamie muttered. "I have a bar to run." He hefted up the tray of clean glasses and headed for the swinging door, but Luke followed him all the way to the bar, wearing his official serious cop expression.

"There are only two people here. I think you can handle multitasking for a moment."

"I've already told you everything that happened with Monica. There's nothing else to tell."

"I'm not asking you for information. I just wanted to give you a heads-up."

Jamie tried to roll the tension from his shoulders. "What kind of heads-up?"

"She did it before."

"Jesus, do I have to drag it out of you? She did what before?"

"Monica slept with a man so her brother would have a chance to break into a business."

Jamie felt his hand tighten too hard around the glass he was holding, so he set it down before he cracked the damn thing. His stomach rolled, but he very calmly grabbed a towel and began polishing the bar. "Did she tell you that?"

"She hasn't admitted to it, but we don't need her to. It happened. She slept with the owner of a construction company after a Christmas party at his office. Five hundred social security numbers were stolen from his office the same night."

Jamie polished harder. "Are you surprised?"

"I'm not. I just wanted to be sure you weren't blind-sided by it if it comes out. We're using the information to pressure her to set her brother up. We've warned her if she doesn't cooperate the information could leak."

"That's a little harsh, isn't it?"

Luke laughed. "We finally untangled that mess of a so-called charity operation. Graham raised $435,000 with his last golf tournament. He donated exactly $12,275 to the cancer charity that was supposed to be the focus of the tournament. And that's just a drop in the bucket compared to all the people he screwed over with his identity theft scam. She was part of that."

"Yeah." Jamie finally gave up on the bar and carefully folded the towel into a perfect square. "Was she getting a cut?"

"That's the thing.... I don't think so. I think it was the thrill for her. The rebellion. That family is screwed up."

The thrill. Right. The thrill. Of deception. Of seduction. Of sex. Of power.

Jamie would've hated her if it had been worth it. Instead, he just hated himself a little more. "Well, thanks for the notification, but I'm fine."

"You'll tell Eric?"

"Sure." That would be a fun conversation. Hey, remember that woman I had sex with who was only using me to get the alarm code? Good news. I'm not the only idiot who fell for it! That would go a long way toward regaining his brother's trust.

"So, listen," Luke said. "About Tessa. And the house..."

"It's cool," Jamie said.

"I know you guys gave Tessa the house, but she doesn't think of it that way. She still thinks of it as the family home. I love her. I want to be with her. But I don't want to do something that will make her unhappy."

"Then don't make her unhappy."

"Jamie. You know what I mean. If you're pissed about me moving in, she'll be tortured about it."

Jamie was having trouble holding on to his distrust of Luke, and shit like this didn't help. "I'm willing to give you a chance, all right? I'll tell Tessa that, too, if it'll make her feel better. I'm happy for you."

"Really?"

"No, not really. But I'm happy for her."

Luke smiled. "Fair enough. I'll see you at Sunday dinner then."

"I can't go." He held up a hand to stop Luke's protest. "It's nothing to do with you. I have plans."

"I'll let Tessa know."

"Thanks."

Jamie was vaguely aware of the sounds that filtered from the back. He heard Tessa's squeal when she saw Luke. Conversation followed, then the alarm beeped as the back door opened. Tessa was gone for the day. Soon enough, Eric popped his head into the front room.

"I'm on my way out. You've got everything under control?"

It was Eric's standard line, but it made Jamie's hackles rise. "Don't I always?"

"You want a serious answer to that question?"

"Fuck off," Jamie muttered, hoping it was loud enough for Eric to hear without catching any customers' attention.

Eric stepped all the way in and crossed his arms. Apparently he'd heard it just fine. "Something going on that you want to talk about?"

"Nothing much. Did you see Luke?"

"He waved on his way out."

Jamie rubbed a hand over his tight neck. "He had some news. They're putting pressure on Monica Kendall to force her to help bring her brother in."

"Perfect. What kind of pressure?"

"Evidently she's acted as a diversion for him before." Jamie busied himself with tweaking the pressure on one of the kegs, but when his brother didn't answer, Jamie looked up.

Eric's mouth had taken on a familiar flatness. "A diversion, huh? Wow. You can really pick 'em."

Jamie's stomach clenched. "I didn't pick her, obviously. She picked me."

"Yeah, well...I think you're what's referred to as an easy mark."

"She did it on purpose. She came here, had a beer and asked me to drive her home. None of that had anything to do with my personality or my past."

"You really believe that?" Eric asked. "That it wasn't your fault? How do you think I would've responded if she'd come on to me?"

"Like an arrogant, self-righteous monk?"

Eric's hands fisted. "I would've responded like a goddamn adult," he growled.

Fury rolled through Jamie like fire, setting every muscle aflame with the need to lash out. But he only clenched his jaw. "I did respond like an adult," he ground out.

"You acted like a mindless teenage boy, just like you always do."

"You're the one who's in my bar right now, trying to start shit in front of the customers. Good job being the adult in the family."

Eric let his head fall back. He took a deep breath and glared at the ceiling for five seconds. "I'm sorry. It just sets me off when you seem unconcerned with what you did."

"I don't need you telling me what I should feel, Eric. And I don't need to prove shit to you, all right?" He caught the movement of someone approaching the bar and shot his brother a glare. "Now, get the hell out. I'm working."

"Jamie-" Eric started, but Jamie was already turning away, offering a smile for the grandmotherly woman approaching.

"Jamie." Eric tried again, but Jamie kept his focus on the customer.

"Are you ready to try the stout now, Maggie?"

"Oh, you," she giggled. "No, we just need some more pretzels."

Eric finally turned and left. A minute later, Jamie heard the beep of the back door and rolled his neck, trying to let the tension go.

Maybe his plan for this place was ridiculous. Eric was never going to give him a chance. He'd never listen to Jamie's ideas. And in the end, Jamie was beginning to think he'd have to make some very different plans. He couldn't live like this for the rest of his life, like some kid under his big brother's thumb.

He'd give this brewery expansion idea a good try. He really would. He'd pour his heart into it. And then, if Eric chose to stomp all over Jamie's plans, Jamie would make new ones, and they'd have nothing to do with the other Donovans.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

OLIVIA HAD RUN FOR NEARLY TWO hours, and strangely, after that long run, she'd found it much easier to breathe. She was not going to let Victor or anyone else ruin her plans for fun. A few months ago-hell, a few days ago-she would've responded very differently to that call from her department chair. She would have cowered, retreated, turned a one-eighty and run far away from any hint of scandal.

But she hadn't done anything wrong, and the idea of running back to her safe existence pissed her off. She'd been safe, yes. But she'd also been lonely. And cold. And bored.

So when Jamie called and asked if she could stop by the brewery tonight to discuss his plans, she jumped in feetfirst. Still, her heart was fluttering like a bird when she stepped inside. It was busier than she'd expected for a weeknight, but she wasn't surprised to find that three quarters of the customers were women. So many book clubs; so little time.

She spotted Jamie at a corner table delivering a tray of beers to a large group of women. One of them jumped up and planted a kiss on his cheek. Jamie didn't even act surprised-he just smiled and handed her a pint glass, while the other ladies hooted their approval.

Olivia hurried toward an empty seat at the bar, not sure why she felt so nervous. He'd asked her to come, confessing that he was feeling a sudden urgency to get through the project.

I'm brave, she told herself as she scurried across the barroom like a mouse. Taking a seat, she folded her hands neatly in her lap and waited for Jamie to appear behind the bar. He was taking his sweet time, though. She dared a glance over her shoulder and saw him wiping down a table, his kilt rising up to show the backs of his knees.

His kilt.

Her face flashed hot. Other parts followed suit.

When Jamie finally came to the bar, he didn't notice her at first. He stacked the dirty glasses, wiped down his tray, then looked expectantly over the customers at the bar. His face was so open, as if he were anticipating happiness even under the most mundane circumstances. When his gaze touched her, he smiled.

"Hey, you're here!"

"I wasn't sure what I should bring...." She held up her notebook.

"Want a beer?"