Chapter One

 

Sean McDonough's office was on the second floor of the Biology annex-an old house that sits just off Campus Drive. The heating system pounds as the house wakes up each winter morning, the floors creak with even the lightest footfall, and every door in the ancient old building squeaks when it's opened or closed. Rather than be a bother for the Professor, the distractions were a sign of home-much like the one where he grew up in an Irish Catholic neighborhood of Boston. He could sit back, close his eyes and think of those delightful days, miles and years from his California office, to the quaint, aging brownstones wedged side by side. The annex also gave him a way to stay clear of the inane banter in the Winfield Natural Sciences Building where the rest of his department was located. His specialty being Marine Biology rarely required him to be part of the department's regular hoopla, politics and gossip.

His desk sat beside a large window in the front of the house. Looking down on the street below he could easily see who was coming or going-making it a good way to avoid students and other callers he didn't particularly want to meet. It wasn't hard to lose oneself in the old house, if being lost was more convenient than some drawn out and useless conference. But on this particular day, seeing the sprite looking shape of a young woman approach the building and mount the stairs, he was initially interested. From above, he could see her curly brown hair and lithe form as she took the steps with a gentle grace. Long before he had a chance to see if she had an attractive face or ample chest, he noted her ass encased in a pair of tight blue jeans. By the time he had the opportunity to make a more thorough examination, she'd disappeared inside. Sean McDonough had many reasons to admire a female derriere, not the least of which was to imagine what it might look like when it was naked and freshly spanked.

Sean McDonough was a replica of a man long since gone the way of the dinosaur, who believed women needed to be quiet, subservient, put in their place, and spanked if they got out of line. He had a long and very arbitrary list of grievances that would warrant punishment by such antiquated means. But the bottom line, so to speak, was the fact that he could never entertain a relationship with a woman unless she agreed to his strict rules for appropriate female demeanor-and the discipline that was certain to follow when his rules were violated. By this description Sean should have been in his sixties or seventies, but instead, he was just thirty-eight and considered to be one of the most eligible males on the University faculty.

Once the lovely woman with the nice round bottom vanished from sight, Sean forgot her, assuming she was in the building to see one of the other faculty members. He certainly wasn't expecting anyone. He returned to a senior thesis he was reviewing, startled by the sudden knock on the door.

"Yes," he answered immediately.

"Professor McDonough?" The door opened a crack.

"Yes, ma'am." He peered over his reading glasses and raised his eyebrows seeing the woman on the stairs looking as delicious from the front as she had been from the rear. She stood at the edge of the doorway where he could see her clearly. Underneath the ribbed-knit sweater tucked inside her jeans, he could see two full breasts, and above that, a vibrant and engaging face. Her eyes were widespread and beautifully blue, with long black lashes and an inquisitive look. There was a natural glow to her tawny skin, and full lips brushed with pale rose lipstick. She kept her hand on the doorknob as she gazed inside waiting for an invitation to enter.

"May I come in?"

"Please do."

She held out her hand for him to shake as she approached his desk and he rose slightly in his seat to take it. Motioning to the chair in front of him, he indicated she sit.

"I'm Lauren Elliot, the botanist that's scheduled for your trip to the Pearl Islands."

"Oh, yes." He wasn't pleased, and the smile that followed was plastered on just to be congenial. But his displeasure was too obvious for her not to note. He was quite good-looking, about five feet ten, trim, broad-shouldered with closely trimmed sandy-red hair, and rather profound green eyes. Between his name and his features, she guessed Irish Catholic.

"I thought," she began, "since the gossip in the department suggests you're not happy with my being part of your team-that we should get acquainted. Maybe avert any misunderstandings or potential conflicts? I'm really quite easy to get along with."

"I'm sure you think so, but that's not the gossip I hear," he said bluntly. "Frankly, Ms. Elliot, you could avert any trouble by giving up your plans to come. Nothing personal of course."

The comment set her on edge, "Absolutely not!" she exclaimed. I have no intention of changing my plans." She tried to remain calm, but in face of the man's imperious tone, it was tough. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound shrill. But I've been dying for the opportunity to research the indigenous plants of the Pacific Isles since I first became a botanist. It is my specialty, and your expedition is a perfect research venue. I will be there, Professor McDonough."

Yes, Lauren Elliot was exactly as had been described-though pleasant to look at, she was headstrong and obstinate. His associates in the department had also mentioned her temper. He could already see the sparks flying. Certainly, they were heading for a confrontation even now.

"If this expedition is so perfect, then perhaps you should have arranged a project of your own?" he commented.

"You know that's not possible. Money for projects like these is hard to come by."

"Yes, I know, that's why I resent the fact that you've taken up precious research dollars with a project I have no interest in. If it weren't for your uncle on the board of this college, I'd have another Marine Biologist going along. Something I could definitely use."

Lauren struggled with the professor's antagonism-this was something she hadn't earned and was not accustomed to. Normally, people found her charming. Especially men. A little eyelash batting and she had them charmed. But not this one. He may be "hot" as her friend Betsy described him, but he seemed mighty cold to her. She took a deep breath to calm her anxiety and chanced to glance down at his desk where she saw what appeared to be some sort of paddle lying within a foot of her. She recoiled, at the same time trying to understand her unexpected and instantaneous physical response to the two-foot long implement.

"What's that?" she asked. The words came out involuntary, before she had a chance to consider what she was saying.

"A spanking paddle," Sean answered.