the little boy. ‘You don’t just go around punching people. It’s wrong. I want you to say sorry.’
‘But I’m not sorry.’ He glared at her mutinously, his scarlet cheeks clashing with his vivid hair. ‘He called me a carrot-head, Miss Jenkins.’
Finding it almost impossible to focus, Kelly took a deep breath. ‘That wasn’t nice, and he’s going to apologise too. But that doesn’t change the fact you punched him. You should never punch anyone.’
Not even arrogant Greek men who left you on your wedding day.
‘S’not my fault I’ve got a temper. It’s cos of my red hair.’
‘It’s not your hair that punched Harry.’ How had she been supposed to know he was the one who had bought the ring?
A child behind her piped up. ‘My dad says if someone is mean to you, you should just thump them and then they’ll never been mean to you again.’
Kelly sighed. ‘Alternatively we could all just try and think more about each other’s feelings.’ Raising her voice slightly, she addressed the whole class. ‘We need to understand that not everyone is the same. We need to show tolerance: that’s going to be our word for the day.’ She stood and walked to the front of the class, feeling twenty-six pairs of eyes boring into her back. ‘T-o-l-e-r-a-n-c-e. Who can tell me what it means?’
Twenty-six hands shot up.
‘Miss, miss, I know—pick me, pick me.’
Kelly hid a smile. It didn’t matter how stressed she was, they always made her smile. ‘Jason?’
‘Miss, that man is at the door.’
Twenty-six little necks craned to get a better view of their visitor.
Kelly glanced up just as Alekos yanked open the door and strode into the room.
Mute with horror, she just stared at him, registering with numb despair the sudden increase in her pulse rate. Was this how her mother had felt about her father? Had she felt this same rush of excitement even though she knew the relationship was hopeless?
Alekos changed the atmosphere in a room, Kelly thought dizzily. His presence commanded attention.
There was a discordant scraping of chairs and desks as the children all stood up and Kelly felt a lump in her throat as she saw them looking at her for approval. When she’d first taken over the class, they’d been a disjointed rabble. Now they were a team.
‘Well done, class,’ she said huskily. ‘Lovely manners. Everyone gets two stars in their book.’ It comforted her, having them there. It gave her strength to turn and face Alekos as he strode towards her. ‘This isn’t a good time. I’m teaching.’
‘It’s a perfectly good time for me.’ His eyes clashed with hers; Kelly felt her face turn scarlet and her legs tremble violently as she remembered the passion they’d shared.
She held onto her composure for the benefit of the twenty-six pairs of watching eyes. ‘We have a visitor—what didn’t he do?’
‘He didn’t knock, Miss Jenkins.’
‘That’s right.’ Kelly conjured a bright smile, like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat. ‘He didn’t knock. He forgot his manners and he broke the rules. So he and I are just going to pop outside so that I can give him a little lesson on the behaviour we expect in our classroom, and you’re going to finish writing your poem.’
She turned to leave the room but Alekos closed his hand around her wrist, dragging her against his side as he faced the goggle-eyed children.
‘Let me teach you all a really important life lesson, children.’ His Greek accent was more pronounced than usual, his eyes dark, as he surveyed the class with the same concentration and focus that he undoubtedly brought to his own boardroom. ‘When something is important to you, you go for it. You don’t let someone walk away from you, and you don’t stand outside a door waiting for permission to enter. You just do it.’
This unusually radical approach was greeted with stunned, fascinated silence. Then several little arms shot into the air.
Alekos blinked. ‘Yes, you?’ Rising to the challenge, he pointed to a boy in the front row.
‘But what if there are rules?’
‘If they’re not sensible, then you break them,’ Alekos said immediately and Kelly gasped.
‘No! You do not break them. Rules are there to—’
‘Be questioned,’ Alekos said with arrogant assurance, his deep male voice holding the children transfixed. ‘Always you must question and ask yourself “why?” Sometimes rules must be broken for progress to be made. Sometimes people will tell you that you can’t do something. Are you going to listen?’
Twenty-six heads moved from side to side doubtfully and Kelly tugged at her wrist, trying to disengage herself so that she could take control.
A choked laugh bubbled up in her throat. Who was she kidding? She was never going to be able to gain control in the classroom again.
Alekos didn’t release her. ‘Take now, for example. I need to talk to Miss Jenkins, and she doesn’t want to listen. What am I going to do? Am I going to walk away?’
A hand shot up. ‘It depends how important it is to speak to her.’
‘It is very important.’ Alekos emphasised each word carefully as he addressed the captivated class. ‘But it’s also important to make the other person feel they are having a say in what happens, so I am willing to concede a point. I will let her choose where we have the conversation. Kelly?’ He turned to face her, his eyes glittering dark. ‘Here or outside?’
‘Outside.’ Kelly spoke through clenched teeth and Alekos smiled and turned back to the children.
‘This is an example of a successful negotiation: it should be a win-win situation. We both have something we want. And now I am going to take Miss Jenkins outside and you are going to—to write one-hundred words on why rules should always be questioned.’
‘No, they’re not!’ Kelly made a choked sound in her throat. ‘They’re going to write their poem.’
‘Fine.’ His eyes lingered on her mouth for a moment before sliding back to the enraptured class. ‘You can write a poem—about the benefit of breaking rules. It was very nice to meet you all. Work hard and you will succeed in life. Remember—it’s not where you come from that matters, it’s where you’re going.’ His hand still locked around Kelly’s wrist, he strode back out of the classroom giving her no choice but to follow him.
Outside the classroom, she leaned against the wall, shaking. ‘I can’t believe you just did that.’
‘You’re welcome,’ he drawled. ‘My going rate for motivational speaking on the international circuit is half a million dollars, but in this case I’m willing to waive my fee for the benefit of the next generation.’
Kelly’s mouth opened and shut. ‘I wasn’t thanking you!’
‘Well, you should be. Tomorrow’s entrepreneurs won’t emerge from a group of rule enslaved robots.’ Studying her face, he gave a sardonic smile. ‘Something tells me I’m not going to be given two stars in my book.’
Almost exploding with frustration, Kelly curled her hands into fists. ‘Don’t you know anything about children?’
The smile disappeared along with the mockery. Without it his face was cold, hard and handsome. ‘No.’ His voice was taut and his expression suddenly guarded. ‘Nothing. I spoke to them as adults, not children.’
‘But they’re not adults, Alekos. Do you know how much trouble we have with discipline?’ She was desperately aware of his fingers on her wrist and the sexy look in his eyes as he looked