Teaching Rowan: Claimed

By Nichole Rose

Breaking the rules never felt so good.

 

Sebastian
Rowan Lassiter is pure magic.
I was under her spell the moment she opened her mouth.
But she's a teacher, and I'm her boss.
The rules say she's off-limits…that dating her is out of the question.
I guess it's a good thing a little scandal never hurt anyone, right?
Because no one is going to tell me I can't keep what belongs to me.

 

Rowan
All I've ever wanted to do is teach.
Right up until I ran straight into Dr. Sebastian Thorne, our new Superintendent.
Falling for him would be crazy, especially since the principal already hates me.
But I think it might already be too late for that.
Because all I want to do now is lose myself in him and the way he makes me feel.
Baby Jesus, please don't make me choose between him and the kids I love.
I promise I'll never ask for anything else.

 

Warning
When this curvy teacher runs right into her older billionaire boss, sparks fly. If instalove, rule-breaking, and over-the-top billionaires make you happy, get ready to take notes from Sebastian and Rowan in this hilariously sweet, steamy romance from Nichole Rose. As always, a sticky sweet and guaranteed HEA is coming your way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nichole Rose
• Release date: Jul 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223123002

Book preview

Chapter One

Rowan

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M ama, I sigh into the phone, pulling my glasses off to pinch the bridge of my nose. You're not supposed to be out running. You just had surgery two weeks ago.

I wasn't running, my mom protests, though we both know she's lying. I was jogging. Lightly.

You were running.

She makes a sound of annoyance, which makes me smile. Like me, my mom is not very good at doing what she's told. Unlike me, she hates to stay in one place for very long and has trouble settling down. At fifty-five, she has more energy than I do, and I'm exactly thirty years and two days younger than she is.

I was a surprise baby. My parents didn't think they could have children, but then my mom turned up pregnant. Nine months later, I was born. Less than a year after I made my entrance, my dad died in a car accident with a drunk driver.

It's been me and my mom ever since. She's my best friend, my favorite person.

Physically, I'm her exact opposite, dark where she's light. She's tall and willowy, with wild blonde hair and porcelain skin. She always tells me I'm the best parts of her and my dad, but I look more like him. I'm biracial, with his dark hair and eyes. I'm also thick and curvy, a solid size sixteen. At five-two, I tend to be mistaken for one of my students more often than not.

What I lack in height, I make up for in other ways. In that regard, my mom and I are a lot alike. We're both stubborn, with big hearts, carefree spirits, and mouths that never stop moving. We love making other people happy. But she's a bit of a hippy if I'm being honest. I'm a bookworm who is happier staying in one place.

My childhood was one big adventure. We traveled a lot, spending weeks on the road during school breaks. I think we visited every state and Canada before I was twelve. We always landed back in San Francisco before the school year resumed, but never in the same home…often not even in the same communities. If it weren't for Mr. and Mrs. Walker, I would have had to start over every year. But they kind of adopted me and my mom, always making sure we had a safe place. Their kids, Lisa Dunham and Colton Walker, were a few years older than me, but they were some of the only constants in my life. Lisa is still a big part of my life. She's my closest friend.

Growing up on the road wasn't terrible, but I like the comfort of having my own little space in the world, somewhere to call my own. San Francisco is my home, and Commodore, the elementary school where I teach, is my happy place. I love it here. The only downside is that an entire ocean currently divides me and my mom. She's in London, too far away for me to make sure she's following doctor's orders and taking it easy while she recovers.

I miss her like crazy.

Where's George? Isn't he supposed to be making you behave? I ask, putting my glasses back on and gathering up the remnants of my lunch to throw away. I still have a few minutes before the third-grade lunch period is over, but I need to get back to my classroom.

Bah to behaving, my mom says, a smile in her voice. He's working today. Or else he's fishing and drinking beer, trying to escape the crazy lady he let move into his house.

I laugh at her assessment. It's wildly inaccurate. George Constantine has never fished a day in his life. He's more likely to be found fixing up his bike or shooting pool. He's also madly in love with my mom. She feels the same way about him. He likes to hover and fuss over her. Mom pretends it drives her nuts, but I think she secretly loves it. It's been a long time since she had a companion. She never dated after my dad died. George is good for her. She's been in London longer than she's ever stayed anywhere before.

Please stop driving him to drink and behave, Mama, I tease her, shoving my lunch bag into the cramped fridge. You know he's crazy about you. It'll break his heart if something happens to you because you're too stubborn to listen to reason.

Fine, fine. She huffs at me. I'll try to behave.

Thank you. I exhale a relieved breath and then glance at the time. I have to get to class before the monsters beat me there. I'll call you later, okay? I love you.

To the moon and back, baby girl, she says and then disconnects.

I slip my phone back into my pocket and then clean up the lounge, putting everything back in order. Once that's done, I head toward my classroom. I have spelling tests to grade. I doubt I'll get very far before the bell rings, but I have a book I really want to read tonight. The more tests I finish now, the fewer I have to do tonight.

Grading tests is the worst part of teaching. I hate seeing the disappointment in the eyes of the students who don't do well. I always let them take the test again, as many times as they need to pass, but it still sucks to watch their little faces fall.

Miss Lassiter, Jamie Grier says, running up to me in the hallway outside of our classroom. Her pigtails bounce as she skids to a stop in front of me. Her blue eyes are wide behind her glasses, her little lip caught between her teeth.

What's wrong, sweetheart? I ask, crouching down in front of her, instantly concerned. Jamie is one of my best students. She's incredibly smart but she's tiny, which means some of the other kids like to tease and pick on her.

I think you're in twouble, she whispers. With her two front teeth missing, she has a bit of a lisp and sometimes struggles to say her Rs.

I blink at her and then laugh quietly, caught off guard by her response. It wasn't what I was expecting her to say, that's for sure. What makes you think so?

The principal told me to come and find you. She leans her little face close to mine, as if she's telling me a secret. He said he needs you in his office right away.

I bite back the curse on the tip of my tongue. If the devil wore tweed and clicked his tongue when he was disappointed, he would be Richard Johnson, our principal. The man is a menace. I've worked here for the last four years, and I'm pretty sure he's hated me for all four of them.

Did you do something wrong? Jamie asks, her eyes still big.

No, sweetheart, I reassure her, hoping I'm not lying to her. Though when it comes to Principal Johnson, there's no telling what I've done to earn his ire. He's a big bully. I've managed to stay off his radar so far this year, but I think that's mostly because he's been giving Cadence Grayson holy hell since school started. He just called her to his office not even thirty minutes ago. I guess he's done with her and it's my turn now.

Lovely.

No one here likes him, but he's been here since before Jesus. I don't know why the School Board won't do something about him. I don't want him to be fired, but he's past retirement age. Surely he has to have some dream beyond trying to turn this school into a colorless, joyless prison?

O-kay, Jamie says like she doesn't believe me.

Why don't you go ask Miss Winters if she can watch the class for a few minutes? Tell her I'll be there as soon as I'm finished.

Okay. Jamie turns to run off and then pauses and looks over her shoulder. Good luck.

I take a deep breath and smooth my hair down before heading toward Johnson's office, racking my brain to figure out what I've done to earn this meeting. My kids have been angels lately. Their test scores aren't the best, but they work so hard and have improved so much. If that's not good enough for him then he can…he can…go kick rocks!

I wish I were brave enough to tell him that, but I'm not. This job means too much to me to risk it by telling off the man who decides whether I get to keep doing said job. I love teaching. It's the only thing I've ever wanted to do, and I'm good at it. I may never have kids of my own—you actually have to have sex for that to happen, so I hear—but I have twenty-five new little minds to shape and mold and help grow every year.

I'm so caught up in my thoughts, I run right into someone coming out of Johnson's office. My body crashes into his, my face pressing into his hard chest. He smells incredible. I don't have time to place the scent. My feet tangle and I slip, my arms wind milling wildly as I try to keep myself upright.

It's no use though.

I can already feel the ground rushing up to meet me.

I squeeze my eyes closed, waiting for impact.

Oof! I mutter when the stranger locks his arms around my waist. My body changes directions all of a sudden, now rushing forward instead of backward. For the second time in the last twenty seconds, I find myself pressed against his hard chest, the nose piece on my glasses digging into my face.

Jeez. He really does smell good. Like rainy Sunday mornings and mint chocolate chip ice cream. My favorite. His body is rock hard, even his….

Oh my gosh, I blurt out as soon as I feel his erection against my stomach.

Shit, he curses, quickly setting me away from him. He has to grab me again when I totter on my feet, unsteady. He holds me away from his body this time, keeping his arms extended.

I am so… I trail off when I catch sight of him, my stomach sinking and my heart turning a backflip. He's not a stranger or a parent. He's Dr. Sebastian Thorne, our new superintendent. I'd heard rumors that he was gorgeous, but this is the first time I've ever seen him myself. Those rumors didn't do him justice. Nope. Not at all.

He's whatever comes after gorgeous.

And he looks mad as hell.

Oh boy.

He's a giant, standing well over a foot taller than me, with shoulders broad enough for me to fit between. With his messy hair and black brows slashing over eyes so dark they're almost black themselves, he appears formidable, a little dangerous. And strikingly handsome. Even his bone structure is chiseled perfection. His face is carved from sharp planes and bold angles, severely masculine and yet beautiful at the same time.

I didn't even know they made suits big enough to contain a man like him, but his black suit fits him like a glove. The expensive fabric stretches over his shoulders and barrel chest, hanging perfectly. His arms are still extended toward me as if he's prepared to catch me again, his silver cufflinks shining. His feet are planted, his thick thighs tense. He's as immovable as the redwoods growing around here, and equally as impressive.

When he first took the Superintendent position, gossip whipped around the halls fast enough to make my head spin. Everyone said he's a former Marine and that his family is ridiculously wealthy. I thought the whispers were simply unsubstantiated rumors, the details of which were made bigger with each retelling. Judging from his size and the suit he's rocking like a Gucci model, I think there may have been a little more truth to said rumors than I thought. This man is larger than life, too very much there to be anything less than remarkable.

Are you all right? The concerned question spills from his lips in a deep rumble of sound, but his severe expression says something entirely different. Irritation settles into the little lines around his eyes and lurks in their dark depths. A hint of that carefully contained frustration touches his tone, seething just below the surface.

A thrill goes through me, turning my nipples into painfully hard points in my blouse. I like the thought of frustrating this man, of pushing him to the edge just to see what he does. The thought of seeing all that power unleashed is enough to have arousal flaring to life inside me.

Are you going to answer me? he demands.

The impatient question loosens my tongue, jolting me back into the here and now. What am I even thinking? A man who looks like him probably takes supermodels and socialites to bed, not twenty-five-year-old plus-size virgins. I'm not self-conscious or insecure, but I'm not crazy either. Dr. Sebastian Thorne is