She moved slowly. “Carter, calm down.”

Carter ignored her, bending at the waist to eyeball a wary-looking Corey. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Come on now, Carter,” Officer West murmured while throwing a worried glance in Kat’s direction.

“Carter, sit down,” Kat urged, hiding the panic in her voice with firmness and authority. “There’s no need for this. Cool it.”

“Yeah, man,” Corey continued. “Cool it.”

In a quick move, Carter put his hands under the edge of Corey’s desk and flung it hard against the wall with an almighty roar. The sound of the wood careening into the plastic-covered brick resonated around the room like a death knell.

Everyone was immediately on his or her feet, with Officer West grabbing his baton and lunging at Carter before he got closer to Corey, paralyzed in his seat. Kat’s body seized up behind a psyched-up Riley, who protected her with his size as three more guards descended onto Carter.

Kat watched in alarm around Riley’s mammoth biceps as Officer West threw Carter against the wall. The officers—called by the panic alarm hit by Rachel—were upon him in a second. Kat flinched when she heard Carter’s grunts and curses as they pushed and pummeled him hard while cuffing him.

“That’s my fucking wrist!” he yelled into the face of one of the officers before being slammed into the wall again face-first. The officer twisted his wrist farther with a sadistic smile on his face, making Carter shout out in obvious pain.

“Hey!” Kat cried, whipping under Riley’s arm, past a laughing Corey. She stormed over to the rabble of angry men.

Carter, whose left cheek was pressed into the wall, eyed her furiously. She scowled at the guard who’d tried to snap the bone in his wrist.

“I saw that,” she fumed, pointing to Carter’s cuffs. “You don’t need to hurt him. It’s unnecessary.”

“Oh, Miss Lane, it’s very necessary,” the officer countered with a hard voice. “You need to keep them in check, see.” He pulled Carter into an upright position.

Kat immediately saw blood trailing from Carter’s left nostril, down his lip. “He’s bleeding!”

“He’s fine,” the guard barked. He thrust Carter forward but was halted by Kat’s firm, unmoving hand on his chest.

“Wait!” She paused for a second before going to her purse and retrieving a pack of tissues. She pulled one out and walked back to Carter, whose face read a million and one different things.

He started to protest when her hand moved to his face. “You don’t need to fuc—”

“Shut up and let me help you,” she bit with a finality and insistence that shut Carter’s mouth with a snap. He took a deep breath when the tissue in her hand swiped at the blood.

His eyes on Kat’s face left a trail of warmth from her hairline down to her nose and mouth. Trying her hardest to ignore the fact that her heart was about to burst, Kat focused hard—watching the swiping motion of the tissue—but felt every movement he made. Every time he breathed and it whispered across her hand under his nose, she swallowed, and every time his mouth twitched, her lungs squeezed.

She wiped gently but determinedly until his face was a damn sight better than it had been after the officers had manhandled him so violently. He hadn’t deserved their treatment. She stared intently around his face and noticed a mark starting to appear on his cheek.

The urge to touch the appearing bruise shook Kat to her core. She cleared her throat and dropped her gaze from his. She seemed to have no power over her hand or its intentions as it started to move toward the skin under his eye, where his bone jutted out in all its sculptured glory. She wanted to ease the redness of it through her fingertips and soothe the ache she just knew was burning under his skin, but she couldn’t.

“All done,” she muttered, wiping a spot of blood on her thumb.

Carter frowned. He opened his mouth, but no words came. Instead, he scoffed before the three guards marched him past her and out of the classroom.

Kat heaved a sigh and tossed the bloodied tissue into the trash can.

6

Kat rolled over and shut the alarm off before it even turned on. She was wide-awake and had been for over an hour.

She’d tossed and turned all night thinking and deliberating about what her next move would be with Carter. Their second lesson had been a complete disaster, and that was putting it mildly. She’d tried to be calm. God, how she’d tried. But it wasn’t enough. She’d still managed to become enraged by him.

She had no idea what it was about him. He was, after all, just like the other men she taught. Well, that wasn’t exactly true; he was a lot more combative and exceedingly more aggressive and—she winced at the thought—a lot more attractive, too. She’d tried not to see him in any other way than as her student, but it was hard to ignore the man who drove her crazy.

She rubbed her palms down her face. She knew better than to get involved in any way with any person she taught. The nonfraternization policy of the prison was clear and succinct, and Kat loved her job too much to put it in any kind of jeopardy. She was a professional and no one, not even Carter, could make her forget that.

But Carter was at his most stunning when he was furious. His rage seemed to make his skin glow and the frown lines, which Kat imagined were indentations caused by his hatred for everything around him, dissolved, leaving his face serene and flawless. He was, in those moments, the most breathtaking creature she had ever seen.

As scared as she was when he’d flung the desk at the wall during her class, she’d been unable to tear her eyes from him, watching with fascination as the beast inside him roared. He was animalistic and, for that brief time, utterly uncaged. It was that thought alone that made parts of Kat’s body come alive in spectacular fashion; it was a side of Carter she desired and detested with equal fervor.

Regardless, no matter what her body thought of the matter, Kat knew the guard twisting his wrist was completely unacceptable. Carter hadn’t deserved that.

And she would tell Anthony Ward that very thing when she got to work.

But, for whatever reason, Anthony Ward was not at work when she got there later that morning. A little disheartened and still a lot confused, Kat began preparing her classroom, trying her hardest not to think about whether Carter would turn up. She pulled at the hem of her blouse in frustration when she realized the part of her that wanted him in her classroom far outweighed the part that didn’t, and cursed loudly.

“Wrong side of the bed this morning?”

Rachel’s voice floated from the doorway, clearing Kat’s head for all of five seconds before the battle within started again in earnest. She smiled and raised her eyebrows, unable to articulate correctly why she was cursing to an empty room.

“He’s been removed,” Rachel said plainly while placing her bag on her seat.

Kat turned. “What?”

“Carter.” Rachel shrugged. “Ward told him his temper is out of control. He’s a danger to himself and others.”

“Shit. How did he take it?”

Rachel gave her a wry smile. “As Carter always does: with a few curses and a growl.” She took a step toward Kat. “This is going to affect his parole.”

Kat’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. She didn’t even know he’d been considered for it.

“When is his parole application up for review?” Kat asked.

“The end of the month.”

Kat’s newfound need to work with Carter instead of against him surprised her. She’d known him all of two days, spoken maybe a dozen words to him, mostly through gritted teeth, but still she knew, deep down, somewhere in her stomach, there was something about him, something more—something that set him apart from the other students in her class. Something that called to her in a way she could never explain.