Let's Misbehave Read Online Free Page B

didn’t mean to break the windows, Mum.”
    She winced. “Windows? More than one?”
    He turned to her, his little face earnest. “It was an accident.”
    It always was. She rubbed her forehead, wondering how much it’d cost her this time, though it didn’t matter because she couldn’t afford even an extra pound this month. “How many windows did you break, and how did you break them?”
    “Only two, and I broke them with my trebuchet.”
    “Your trebuchet,” she repeated.
    He lit up. “A trebuchet is a big slingshot. They used them in war, like when you were a kid. They’re wicked .”
    “I know what a trebuchet is,” she interrupted. “What I don’t understand is how you came to have one.”
    “I built it,” he said proudly.
    “Of course you did.” She lifted her gaze to the sky, praying for patience. Really, she was lucky he was so bright. Too bright for his own good, but he was happy and healthy.
    Unless she decided to kill him, which she was sometimes tempted to do—very fleetingly, and only when he broke windows she couldn’t pay for. “Let’s forego why you built the trebuchet,” she said, “tell me how you broke not one but two windows.”
    “The first time I launched a rock it didn’t go as far as it should have, so I had to try again.”
    “Of course you did.” She took his face between her hands. “You realize I’m going to string you up by your trebuchet.”
    “You can’t,” he said solemnly. “It won’t support my weight, but I can build one that can.”
    Heaven help her. He was only six. What sort of trouble would he get into as a teenager?
    The headteacher’s door opened and he poked his head outside. “Holly?”
    They both glanced up. Jamie looked apprehensive. Holly shivered, too—not because she was nervous but because that was how the headteacher always affected her.
    Peter Sands was heaven. Younger than you’d expect a headteacher to be, with tousled hair, sleeves rolled up to reveal strong arms, a knowing glint in his eyes, like he could read your secret desires and make them come true.
    She stood, wondering how awful she was to look forward to her son getting in trouble because it meant getting to see Peter.
    She gave Jamie a quelling look. “Stay here.”
    He nodded morosely.
    Shaking her head, she walked into the headteacher’s office. He closed the door behind her and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Your chair, Holly,” he said, his voice like dusk and hot baths and chocolate, all rolled into one.
    Her favorite things.
    When she was in prep school, she’d read erotic stories the other girls passed around. One stuck in her head, about a headmaster at a girls’ school who used to take wicked girls into his office to spank. If the headmaster had looked like Peter Sands, Holly would have been naughty just to be disciplined by him.
    Blushing, she took the seat, hoping she didn’t look like a randy teenager. This was about Jamie, and he was her world, so she refocused and asked, “How bad is it this time?”
    “Bad.” Peter sat behind the desk, a smile flirting with his lips. “Only Jamie would get in trouble by building a medieval siege machine.”
    “How much is the damage?” She bit her lip, afraid of the answer.
    He named the sum.
    She blanched. How was she going to afford to pay that? “Can I sell Jamie to the school as an indentured servant?”
    Peter laughed, and the knot in her stomach eased—just a little. “I’m not sure I could convince anyone to take him on as a servant. Don’t misunderstand me. Jamie is beloved here. No one has an unkind word to say about him personally. He’s a lovely boy, and he means well.”
    “Yes, he’s just a terror when it comes to breaking things.”
    “His problem is he’s very smart and he needs to be mentally challenged. He needs to be in a special program.” Peter sat forward. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I may have a solution for him.”
    Her heart beat faster. She