Love Can Be Murder

collapse. Another lost soul, with an affinity for self-destruction. Or just plain destruction?
    Roxann went in search of a water fountain, and spotted Angora lounging on a bench, sharing her potato chips with the pigeons. She'd been crying. "How was it?" she mumbled.
    "How was what?"
    "Dr. Seger. Did you do it on his desk?"
    "Are you insane? Of course we didn't!"
    Angora tossed the foil bag into a nearby garbage can and licked her fingers. "The way you were fawning all over him, I wouldn't have been surprised."
    Roxann frowned. "That's not true, and that's not fair. What's wrong with you?"
    Angora leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and stared at the ground. "What's wrong with me? I'm supposed to be on my honeymoon right now."
    Roxann's heart squeezed for her and she sat down. "You'll love Chicago. And a year from now you won't even remember Trenton's name."
    "I can't go to Chicago," Angora sobbed. "I'm not qualified to work for that art agency. I wouldn't last a week."
    "They wouldn't have offered you the job if you weren't qualified."
    "I only got the job because I graduated from Notre Dame."
    "I don't think you give yourself enough credit."
    She wiped her cheeks. "No. Mother is right—Trenton was my best chance for a good life, and I let him get away."
    "Well, I hate to tell you this, but I think he sort of cut bait all on his own."
    "I might as well join a convent."
    "They don't have laundry rooms in convents."
    Angora finally cracked a tiny smile. "I wish I were you."
    Roxann sighed. "I wish you were me, too. But we're sort of stuck with ourselves, aren't we?" Then she stood and jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "If you're ready to go, I need to rinse my tie-dyed shirt to wear to the auction tonight."
    Angora sprang up and began walking back the way they'd come. "You are not wearing that shirt tonight."
    Roxann smiled into her hand. "Wait up."

Chapter Fifteen

    ANGORA SWALLOWED a half-glass of wine in one drink. Intermission. Six bachelors down, and not one worthy of her virginity. Not one held a candle to Dr. Carl Seger. She cast a sideways glance at Roxann and tightened the grip on her glass—why did all things come so easily for her cousin? She had been the one who loved Dr. Carl from a distance for the better part of her time at the university. She had been the one who had memorized his features and mannerisms while watching him eat lunch every day. She had been the one to sit through his Intro to Theology class for four semesters, convinced he would one day notice her.
    And he had, at long last. Her final semester, April twenty-first. Third period. She'd "left" a notebook at her desk, then waited until the room emptied of students before going back inside. Dr. Carl had been erasing the chalkboard in long, powerful strokes and hadn't heard her at first. Until she "dropped" the notebook. Then he'd turned and smiled, offering a hello.
    "I forgot my notebook," she'd said, holding it up.
    "Are you in my class?" he'd asked.
    "Yes."
    "That's why you look so familiar."
    "Yes." She'd waited while he finished the board, then descended from the dais carrying his own books. He seemed surprised that she was still standing there, but now that she had his attention, she wasn't about to budge.
    "Four times."
    "Pardon me?"
    "I've taken this class four times."
    His eyebrows had gone up, then his gaze had traveled to her snug sweater. "You must like theology."
    "Not really." His gaze on her had made her feel bold, womanly. Just thinking about it now sent a heaviness to her midsection.
    He'd checked his watch. "What's your name?"
    "Angora Ryder."
    "Well, Angora Ryder, where is your next class?"
    "I don't have one."
    He had looked her up and down again, then pursed his mouth. "I was just going back to straighten up my office. I could use a hand."
    She had smiled and followed him to his office, where he'd locked the frosted-glass door.
    "Students are always popping in," he'd explained. "Which is why I can never get my files in order."
    "Where should I start?" she'd asked, fairly trembling at the sexual charge in the air.
    He'd sat down in his office chair and pulled her to his lap for a long, hard kiss that had steamed up his glasses. When he pulled back to take them off, he'd looked at her. "Is this what you wanted?"
    She had nodded, too far gone now.
    His eyes were hooded as he'd fumbled with her sweater, pulling it up along with her bra to free her breasts. He had been all lips and teeth, making little