“I thought I overheard you telling your teaching assistant you’d caught some students cheating.” At Erin’s raised brow, he lifted his hands in apology. “I wanted to ask you to lunch, but you were obviously occupied. We really don’t tolerate academic dishonesty at Burkeen. This must be reported.”

“I’d rather not.” She folded her hands, dismayed at the thought of Kenneth running to the dean with a complaint about cheating. Academic investigations were never secret, and too much hinged on the outcome. Cursing herself for even mentioning it, she explained, “I will speak with the students directly. There isn’t enough evidence for an inquiry.” To change the subject, she asked quickly, “I thought you were already off on vacation? A conference in Versailles.”

“Excellent memory. I didn’t think you listened to me.” Leaning close, he caressed her temple and pretended not to notice her subtle flinch. He’d startled her, that’s all. Deliberately, he repeated the caress. “You always seem so far away.”

Instinctively Erin inched away. “I’m right here,” she demurred.

“So it appears.” Kenneth sidled closer, his hip just brushing her fingers where they rested atop the exams. He cocked his head, studying her. “We haven’t had much of an opportunity to talk since I hired you, Erin. I think we’d like to get to know each other, colleague to colleague.” A cool, smooth hand covered hers where it lay atop the papers. “Don’t you?”

Frissons of distaste wound through her, but she didn’t dare move her hand away, lest she openly insult him. Men seemed unusually preoccupied with her hands, she thought with exasperation. But where Gabriel’s caresses catapulted her stomach into somersaults, Kenneth elicited only a sensation of oily disgust. If this groping trend continued, she’d ask Madame Bee Dowdell on Bourbon Street for a wart-causing potion.

“Maybe lunch, when you return?” she suggested casually. “Genevieve and Dr. Meyers mentioned that we should try to get together over the summer before the students come back.”

“That would be nice.” Kenneth restrained a surge of irritation with effort. He had little to no interest in sharing air with the coarse Anthony Meyers, and his flirtations with Genevieve Moss had proven fruitless years before. His sights were solely focused on the dreary little Dr. Abbott. She appeared to be as fussy as he, and malleable.

Unaware of his thoughts, Erin asked, “When do you leave for the conference?”

“Next week. Morning flight. First class.” He preened a bit. “As a featured speaker, I insisted.”