Campus SEAL: SEALS N SORORITY SISTERS, #3
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About this ebook
She's an academic. He's a SEAL beast.
Martha has finally landed her dream job, only to be disillusioned by academic snobbery. Zeke showing up is the last thing she needs. She's determined to forget their first meet. He's Hell bent on getting a second chance.
"Promise me next time you let loose in my arms we'll be naked in my bed."
Alexandra Isobel
Canadian romance writer who sees the romance in everyday life, and mixes it into her stories. She thrives on visual inspiration so is a diehard movie junkie and photography hound - both of which keep her imagination humming. She's definitely an introvert who secretly lusts after her alpha hero characters!
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Campus SEAL - Alexandra Isobel
Copyright
Campus SEAL © Copyright <
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CAMPUS SEAL
––––––––
Onyx University, Virginia
Eee-yooow!
Martha Davis shrieked to the level of hysteria of a person being repeatedly stabbed. The mouse scrambled over her bare foot until it disappeared under the bookshelf. She jammed her finger into the orange button on her office phone. Security!
She pushed away from her desk so hard it sent her chair crashing against the wall. She ran out of her office and slammed the door before she sagged against her colleague's doorjamb.
Wretched childhood memories flooded her mind. She'd only been five when she woken to the feeling of something squishy against her toes, and when she peaked beneath the sheets to her horror, a family of mice were crawling under her covers.
She squeezed her eyes shut to get rid of the memory and took deep breaths.
Get a hold of yourself, girl. It was only a mouse. Just one mouse, one single little thing, and it's gone. Breathe. Breathe! You're an associate professor and part of the upper echelons of higher education now. You cannot be screaming and running around, acting like that fabled crazy black woman.
She scanned the closed doors of her new colleagues and other administrative professionals on her floor, thanking Heaven no one was here after hours to witness her foolishness. She pulled herself together, straightened, and reminded herself that she had dealt with many rodents growing up. Her grandmother promised the four-legged little things were more afraid of her than she was of them.
She noticed the mouse poke his head from the small space beneath her office door. She shrieked again, all reason flying out of her head, and fled down the hall. She breathed a loud sigh of relief when she spotted an open door.
Dr. Ezerick Williams, Dean of the department of African American studies would be in his office.
Martha ran toward his door and skidded across his threshold like it was a finish line. She looked behind her, half expecting the mouse to be on her tail, after morphing into horror movie size with razor-sharp teeth. She exhaled and turned back to find Dr. Williams staring at her over his round glasses, his fingers unmoving on his office phone, his dark and refined, elegant facial features frozen in surprise.
Ms. Davis?
His thin mouth parted in shock. What is the meaning of...?
Dr. Williams, I'm sorry to bother you, but there is an emergency in my office with a gigantic attack mouse and—
Her hysterics died on her lips as the disgusted look on his face finally registered.
He looked from her face to her bare feet before returning to her face.
She tucked in her shirt and tried to stretch the wrinkles out of her skirt.
Flustered and out of breath, with her hair had falled undone from its usually neat bun. I'm so sorry.
She held her palms up in a surrender gesture. I didn't realize you were on the phone.
She glanced at the phone still in his hand and backed out of his office. Utter embarrassment washed over her. Ugh!
She let out the breath she'd been holding as she blindly stepped into a hard mass. She grabbed onto what she thought was the door and shrieked again when she looked up into a pair of dark eyes staring down at her.
*****
Whoa—
Zeke Campbell shot his hand out and steadied a clearly shaken Martha, who she stared at him like he'd descended from outer space. That is not the reaction a man out to rescue a woman expects to have.
She stared up at him as if he had two heads. He could only imagine how her mind was snapping pieces of visual information together.
She jumped back and out of his hold, looking his uniformed body up and down. Zeke? What the Hell are you doing here?
It wasn't a question. It was a clear demand for information. He smiled. Exactly as he remembered her. Bookish and reserved until you needled and hit the right button, then the fireworks started.
Answering your call, Miss.
She squinted her eyes and opened that damned cute mouth to no doubt tear another strip off him, a long broad piece to match the one she already had from two months ago, back on Martha's Vineyard.
Ms. Davis?
She gasped. Dr. Williams.
She turned and faced the other man like a kid caught with a hand inside a cookie jar.
Is everything under control out here?
Zeke smirked and stared over her head at the looming figure of Professor Tight-Ass. The dandy pencil pusher stood in his tailored business suit, complete with a vest beneath the fitted jacket and a snot rag in the front pocket.
If this woman had come running to him the way she had this guy, he would have held onto her and never let go. Being a Scotch-Irish Appalachian born and raised, and a SEAL by choice, he was bred to fight and protect from a long line of men hard-wired to do the same. And with a woman like Martha, the instinct to defend reared its head with ferocity.
Yes,
she said. Again, I'm sorry to have disturbed you. I didn't realize you were on the phone.
He gestured absently behind him. I was speaking to President Johnson about the department budget.
Martha hung her head. There was a mouse...
Show me.
Zeke ushered her away from Williams and down the hall. The second, she was away from Professor Tight-Ass, she tiptoed barefoot, like a prancing show horse.
Lost your shoes, Cinderella?
Funny.
She glared at him. They're probably still under my desk. And yes, I'm aware it's bad manners to take your shoes off under a table, but I was alone in my office until that mouse came at me with deadly intent.
He smiled to himself. Yup. Definitely, as he remembered. Prim and proper with a healthy dose of smart ass. Where's your office?
Just up ahead, and you haven't answered my question about what you're doing here.
He'd identified her office as soon as he was on location at the college but wasn't about to tell her that. As soon as he’d started this bullshit gig as university head of security, her location was his radar. He was a soldier, and maybe he was on recovery leave, keeping his battered mind and body in shape, but he was undeserving of this level of punishment rest, standing around some university campus, even if it was a temporary thing. He hated watching uppity professors yap their heads off about subjects and topics nobody gave a fuck about. Except for Martha's lectures. Those he watched on his office screen with keen attention. When she discussed the history of social justice or lack thereof for black women, he listened intently to anything she had to say.
Yeah, I bet I'm the last man you expected to see around here.
She bristled. "Wanted to see around here you mean."
Hmmm. Now don't be like that. I won't tell anyone what happened between us in Oak Bluffs if you don't.
Nothing happened.
She glared at him, marching barefoot across the polished floor.
Not for your lack of trying,
he grinned.
She narrowed her eyes. Be very careful what you say next, Mr. Campbell.
My lips are sealed.
He stopped in front of her office. You sure were angry with this door.
She gaped at the sight of the cracked door jamb. Oh no.
She swayed. I'm so fired.
She touched the door with dismay.
Don't worry. It's an easy fix.
She heaved out a breath. I haven't been here long enough for this.
She marched into the office but held onto the door handle. Department policy. No meetings behind closed doors because—
she shrieked and jumped like a scalded cat.
Zeke looked down to see the mouse's tail streak across the floor before Martha's flailing body landed on his boots, her tip toes like a flea on hot coals as she clutched at his flak vest and dug her fingers into his shoulders with her blunt cut nails.
Jesus!
He winced but held onto her, trying to still her wriggling body, so she didn't scrape herself against his chest armour.
There it goes! There it—
She leapt off his boots like an Olympic hurdler and landed in the hallway.
Ms. Davis—
She collided with the stiff-ass professor, almost knocking the other man out.
Zeke stifled a laugh as he watched Martha push away from the other man's spaghetti limbs and plaster herself against the wall, her eyes darting between him, Williams, and the office floor.
Perhaps you should wait in my office.
Williams frowned.
She swung her head from Zeke to the professor and took off down the hall like the devil was behind her.
I trust you can take care of this.
Williams looked down his nose at Zeke. What happened here?
He pursed his sliver lips and scowled at the cracked door.
Zeke shrugged. I'll fix it.
See that you do.
Williams glowered and walked away.
*****
Chapter TWO
The next morning, Martha leaned back in the wooden chair in the university cafe. The Study Cup was unusually busy for this time of day. She watched Dr. Williams stir a single packet of sugar into his tea before he looked at her over his round glasses. I trust you are back to normal this morning.
Yes.
She pulled her teacup closer. She was relieved to get his reminder of their weekly tea after yesterday's absolute fiasco. She was so sure she would be persona non gratis after her hysterics. I am completely embarrassed about how I acted. I am so sorry.
She had taken an extra ten minutes to make sure everything about her was back in place before she left the house this morning. Pencil skirt and white button-down freshly pressed. Soft-soled, Mary Janes. Hair in an ever-tighter knot with just enough makeup to highlight and enhance, graced with simple pearl earrings. She then ensured her messenger bag was