Work Text:
The Pride of Ireland
by
Pirate Turner
He stood in the front of the classroom, and her betraying eyes were continuously being pulled to look up at him as he strode before them, talking in that wonderful accent of his and reciting historical events. She shuffled the papers on her desk and released a soft sigh of frustration as she berated herself inwardly. She knew better than to allow herself to become distracted by him, let alone attracted to him. She knew things between them could never work out. He could never want her when the kind of woman that turned him on was stoic do-gooders like Moira MacTaggert.
Something her co-headmaster said caused a stir through the students, and Emma glanced up as Jubilee actually asked a question. She was surprised to find their students all leaning forward, eager to catch Sean's response and the continuation of the story he was telling. Amazement glittered in her blue eyes. Only Sean could find a way to actually interest and engage their entire student body, but then he was utterly intriguing and completely engaging . . .
Another soft sigh escaped her lips, and she rested her chin on the top of her hand as she dared to allow herself to watch him for a moment. If any one said anything, she reassured herself, she could always say that she had never paid much attention to Ireland's history but found his story enticing. Her students' familiar vocabulary slipped into her strain of thought as Emma mentally scolded herself. {Yeah, right, it's the man himself you find enticing. Get your mind back on grading the tests, Frost.}
Yet, this time, as Sean moved into the path of golden morning sunlight that streamed into the classroom, Emma found herself unable to move her eyes away from him. His words played on her ears, and they thrilled to them as though they were the finest strings on a harp. Despite her better intentions, his Irish brogue always managed to stir the woman within the icy exterior she had worked so hard on building for so many years. Her eyes roamed his body as his words called to her heart and soul like enchanting music, and she found herself melting just listening to him.
As she took in Sean's handsome form clad in varying shades of green, Emma remembered their conversation from earlier. He had been angry when he'd seen her wearing her usual white, and she had informed him rather sharply that just because he was Irish and wanted to celebrate the day did not mean that she had any intention of partaking in the wearing of the green. She wished now she had for she had finally found something about Ireland worth celebrating besides its beautiful but war-torn land in the sexiest man it had ever produced and the wonderful, sensual brogue that poured like honey from his mouth!
The End