Bentley little, p.1
Duality: Age Gap Teacher/Student Romance (Timeless Love Book 1), page 1
Duality
(Timeless Love #1)
By
Charlene Namdhari
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Duality
COPYRIGHT © 2022 by Charlene Namdhari
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Cover Art by TRC Designs
Developmental Editing by Nikki Malan
Model: Weston Bouchér
Photographer: Nick Nacca
Dedication
To the man whose voice tied me up in knots while your words let my soul run free.
Thank you for the inspiration, handsome!!!
(My very own Mr. S)
Acknowledgments
To the Universe, thank you for always giving me what I need, to live, to love, to laugh. I’m truly blessed and grateful!
To my beautiful readers, thank you so much for all your wonderful support and kind words, always.
To Nikki, Jen, and Crystal, thank you for always having my back - Love you lots!
To Lainey Da Silva, the awesome woman behind DS promotions, thank you for the continued support, motivation, and help. I appreciate you!!!
Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue
England – One Summer
Chapter 1 - Levana
Chapter 2 - Saint
England – Nine months later
Chapter 3 - Levana
England – One month later
Chapter 4 - Levana
Chapter 5 - Levana
Chapter 6 - Levana
Chapter 7 - Saint
Chapter 8 - Levana
Chapter 9 - Levana
Chapter 10 - Saint
Chapter 11 - Levana
Chapter 12 - Saint
San Francisco – Two weeks later
Chapter 13 - Levana
Chapter 15 - Levana
San Francisco – Another Three weeks later
Chapter 16 - Levana
Chapter 17 - Saint
Chapter 18 - Levana
Chapter 19 - Saint
Chapter 20 - Levana
Chapter 21 - Saint
Chapter 22 - Levana
Chapter 23 - Saint
Chapter 24 - Levana
Chapter 25 - Saint
Chapter 26 - Levana
Chapter 27 - Saint
Chapter 28 - Levana
Chapter 29 - Levana
Chapter 30 - Saint
Chapter 31 - Levana
Chapter 32 - Levana
Chapter 33 - Saint
Chapter 34 - Levana
Chapter 35 - Saint
Chapter 36 - Levana
Chapter 37 - Saint
Chapter 38 - Levana
Chapter 39 - Levana
Chapter 40 - Levana
Chapter 41 - Saint
Chapter 42 - Saint
Chapter 43 - Levana
Chapter 44 - Levana
Chapter 45 - Levana
Chapter 46 - Levana
Chapter 47 - Levana
Chapter 48 - Levana
The Past
Chapter 49 - Snow
Chapter 50 - Sebastian
The Present
Chapter 51 – Levana
Chapter 52 – Saint
Chapter 53 - Levana
Chapter 54 - Levana
Levana – Three Months Later
Saint - Three years later
What’s coming next
Prologue
“Twinkle, twinkle little star...” my voice echoed through the empty room save for the single glass case sitting in the middle. Alone, yet the bearer of beauty so stunning it glittered against the lights around the enclosure. Ankles entwined in the rope suspended high above my body, I dangled from a precarious height. Once I gauged the distance needed, I released my grip slightly. With the ease of a snake, I slithered down the rope.
Stopping a meter and a half above the floor, I slipped the bottle of white powder from the small black bag secured around my waist. A liberal dose in the air scattered like snowflakes during a winter storm, uncovering the red laser beams crisscrossed around the centerpiece. Counting in a muted whisper, I grasped the end of the rope just below my head, folded my body over my arms, and dropped to a spot on the marble tiles with practiced silence.
“Steady on,” my partner’s voice crackled in my ear.
Glancing up at the gaping hole in the skylight I’d come through, I smiled and adjusted the earpiece before tiptoeing between the infrared lines in a sequence of steps that would make any dance teacher stand up and take note. When I reached the outermost circle surrounding the centerpiece, I studied the strategically placed pressure plates. One false move or a step in the wrong direction would trigger the silent alarm. I’d been doing this for a while, so I knew all the little tricks to bypass high-tech security. It would take a lot more to fool me. Drawing in a deep breath, my first step was cautious. Then with a mechanical fluidity I’d become accustomed to during practice, I sidestepped the plates with the same confidence as the installer.
A brief pause allowed me a quick mental check. Breathing smooth and deep, muscles relaxed and supple, heartbeat slow and steady. Done, I eased into the final stage of readiness. Wiping all thoughts from my mind so that my sight, smell and hearing were in tune to react to any possible danger. Satisfied, I fished out a miniature version of the glass cutter I’d used on the skylight from the bag and four sticks of gum that I unwrapped, popped into my mouth, and stuffed the wrappers back in the bag. Taking care not to shift the case unnecessarily, I adjusted the cutter and then carved a hole in the glass the size of a fist. I placed the sliced piece on top of the casing, pocketed the blade then eyed my handiwork, my lips stretching into a smug grin before my gaze fell to my prize.
Mesmerized, I stared. Sparkling in a rainbow of colors from the light above it, the jewel, the size of a medium-sized marble, winked at me as if in greeting. A sudden feeling passed over me, like the feather-light touch of fingertips on my skin. It happened so quickly, I stiffened, my brow creasing, my heart pulsing before I jerked my head in all directions. I could’ve sworn something whispered in my ear. Nothing but silence waved back at me in a blindsided taunt. I stared at the jewel again, growing more hypnotized by the second. What secrets are you hiding?
“Everything okay?” the voice in my ear shunted me back into reality.
Giving a thumbs up heavenward, I inhaled deeply to slow my heartbeat and shook the idiocy out of my concentration. “Like a diamond in the sky...” I whisper sang, taking the gum from my mouth. Rolling it between my thumb and forefinger, I reached into the structure. With sleight of hand agility, I replaced the large diamond with the wad of gum, pressing it in to create the same pressure as the diamond. Slowly, I lifted my hand off the gum and glanced around. No alarms. Good.
Pleased, I slipped the jewel into a pocket in the black leather jacket I wore, then turned. I returned to the area below the rope with quick somersaults. Stepping back a few paces, I ran forward, sprung up, and seized the rope, scaling it with the limber movements. Once I reached the ceiling, I climbed through the hole in the skylight onto the roof, where my partner waited.
After a quick nod to me, we walked in silence to the roof's edge and looked down—a death-defying drop. Grinning at each other, we spread our arms and fell forward into the warm night air, soaring like a pair of gliding eagles. To any observing eye, it would seem like a dangerous feat—two people diving to the ground from the roof of a building without safety harnesses or parachutes. Only, that wasn’t the case. With a deft flick of our wrists, we pulled cords hidden inside the sleeves of our jackets opening small parachutes concealed in our neat tiny backpacks, dark like the night. Gaining ground, we landed and quickly rolled up the chutes. Another few seconds and we climbed into the black sedan hidden behind thick foliage.
When the car was a safe distance away, I took out the diamond and held it up to the overhead light I switched on.
“That’s a beaut,” my partner glanced at the jewel. “It will fetch a hefty price.”
Slowly, I shook my head, my eyes glued to the glittering jewel. “No. This one is special.”
England – One Summer
Chapter 1 - Levana
“Would you stop looking like Bennett Wilson has just kissed you?” Grace Evans nudged my elbow with hers, referring to the most classically tall, dark, and handsome boy at our school, outranked solely by his own ego.
Lifting my gaze from the leaflet spread open across my bouncing knees, I stuck my index finger in my mouth and gagged. My friend gawked at my reaction, making me laugh at her squinty eyes and pouty lips. “If this is what kissing Bennett,” I circled the air around my face, “looks like, then I need to check myself in at the nearest house for crazies.”
“Seriously?” Grace ro
lled her eyes. “I’m starting to believe all those wankers who call you a dork,” she muttered. “Who in their right mind prefers a visit to a dreary old castle over kissing Bennett?” A dreamy look passed over her face.
“Me.” I grinned, earning another indignant eye roll.
She knew I didn’t care what the others called me. While everyone my age was crazy about the latest social media trend or some other English fandom, I saw no reason to follow the unimaginative norms. If that wasn’t enough to ostracise me, being the only American in an all-British school had brought its fair share of taunts. Not like I wasn’t a typical teenager. I was. Only, I loved reading. History—something I discovered long before arriving in England—being my favorite book of choice. And right now, my heart was buzzing over the latest archaic find I was about to explore.
“Anyway, do you honestly think he’d want to kiss these?” I pointed to the metal braces I wore with pride. Bennett was the star rugby player and dated the clichéd mean girls. Tall. Thin. Superficial. I should add desperate to the description. Because they usually didn’t realize Bennett’s style of ‘screw them and leave them’ until it was too late.
Grace reached for my hand and squeezed it lightly. “Another year, and your perfect teeth will be breaking hearts. Kisses and dicks too.” My friend was charismatic as she was honest, and why I loved her.
I was twelve when we arrived in England, courtesy of my parent’s divorce. While I desperately wanted to stay with my father, my mother ensured he never got custody of my sister and me. That hurt, and not being allowed to interact with him worsened the pain. Ironically, Grace became my saving grace from sinking into teenage depression or turning rebellious. With her constant mothering despite being just two months older and her father stepping in to guide me in the absence of mine, I became a straight-A student. My favorite place was the library, my preferred pastime, keeping to myself.
“You need to get your head out of those books and find yourself a hot guy,” Grace’s sudden statement yanked me out of my thoughts.
“If that’s what it entails, yuck.” I tipped my chin at the two slobbering idiots swapping spit three seats behind us. “There’s nothing sexy about having a guy drooling over my mouth. I’d rather kiss a frog.”
She huffed. “They don’t turn into princes, Lee.”
“And who said anything about wanting a prince,” I scoffed. “When it's time, I want a man, not a boy.”
“Yeah, right, keep dreaming.”
“No, Gracey Pooh. I didn’t say I want a man now.” I jabbed a finger in her side, catching her ticklish spot. “We’ll be seventeen in a couple of months and there’s no written rule that we must kiss boys now. There’s plenty of time for that.”
She shoved my hand away with a sigh. “It would be something, though, wouldn’t it? To meet a real prince like Harry or William, maybe even have an unknown gran turn up out of the blue and announce that we’re real princesses.”
“Princess Dairies is every little girl’s dream, Grace.” I laughed, referring to Anne Hathaway’s debut movie. “Those things don’t happen in real life either.”
“Sourpuss.” She squinted into the sunshine pouring through the window.
Sticking my tongue out at her, I turned away to admire the passing scenery. We were on a school trip to Winthrop Castle, situated on the outskirts of Jersey. The only castle in all of England that I hadn’t visited yet. I glanced down at the leaflet once more and scanned the written text beneath a picture of the castle. The family apparently believed in preserving as much of their history and despite several restorations, it retained most of its aged facades. Still, they hadn’t allowed visitors until this year when they opened a portion of the castle to school tours.
I couldn’t remember the first time I fell in love with everything period-related or that the more I learned, the more intrigued I became, enough to never trade my knowledge for anything. While I’d visited every architectural site in England, I was drawn to Winthrop castle for some inexplicable reason. Both Grace and her dad couldn’t understand my fascination and for the most part, neither could I. Maybe it was a case of always wanting what you can’t have. When I’d asked Mr. Evans to take me for a visit, he’d laughed. My persistence, however, had him relenting one Sunday morning.
I’d seen plenty of pictures and couldn’t wait to see the real thing. Unfortunately, Mr. Evans could only get us as far as the outskirts of the boundary wall. And while the prominent castle stood on a hilltop we could see in the distance, numerous tall trees on the property obscured most of the view. Disappointed, I’d stuck to reading what little history I could find, which only enhanced my curiosity. Not much was known of the recent family occupying the castle since they kept their affairs private and when our teacher announced we’d be visiting the castle, my joyous whoop received death stares from the less interested in our class.
As the bus crawled cautiously over the draw bridge that separated the enormous, moss-covered stone walls from the main road, excitement coursed through my veins. Behind the outer wooden gates slowly opening, I caught a glimpse of large iron gates flanked by giant gargoyle sculptures that might look scary at night, but they were a beautiful sight right now. My enthusiasm grew in leaps and bounds.
When I finally stepped off the bus, my head snapped from left to right, my eager eyes unable to focus on any one point. The view of dark stone meshed with occasional cream bricks from recent restorations was an edifice of steel-framed arched windows, towers, and steeples rimmed above by parapet walls and medieval crenelations—a feature of defensive architecture and lush gardens below.
Hand in hand with Grace, we followed the others down cobblestone pathways restored in certain places and led toward massive charcoal-colored doors. Excited, I couldn’t wait to get inside.
“God, this place is beautiful,” my compliment was accompanied by many oohs and aahs from the others.
As we waited while our guide queued for security checks, Grace asked, “so, are you coming to Danny’s party tonight?”
“You know I’m a—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Not a social bee,” she scoffed. “Bloody hell, Lee, it’s just a party and an hour of socializing will not affect those geeky brain cells. Plus, you’ve been the American outsider for so long, by choice, I might add, that I think it’s time you made some friends other than me.”
“Why, Grace, are you tired of me?” I faked a hurt look, rubbing a hand over my heart.
“As if.” She shoulder-bumped me. “We’re spit sisters, remember.” She reminded me of the pact we’d made. Two days after starting school, I missed my father and wanted to go back to the US. I was crying in the bathroom where Grace found me. After an hour of sitting with me and missing class, she spat on her hand and then held it out with a promise to be my friend for life. “Besides, while most of these wankers find you weird, I like that you don’t care what they think. You give the phrase ‘lighten up’ new meaning even with your head stuck in the books.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” My sarcastic tone was not lost on her, making her scowl. “And I do socialize. I’m on the student council, remember?”
“I give up,” she moaned, shaking her head.
I yanked her ponytail until she smiled again. “Didn’t Danny’s parents ban parties after that last one?” I grinned, remembering how all the kids who’d jumped into Danny’s pool arrived at school looking like little green monsters. Someone had thrown something in the pool that reacted with the chlorinated water. It took weeks for their skin color to eventually return to normal, and Headmaster Berrington was displeased. “Berrington will have a fit.”
“Everyone knows nothing stops Danny from throwing his famous parties. And it’s no secret Berrington kept mum on the last incident because he values Danny’s family donations too much.”
“Political conspiracy,” I muttered, gagging my disapproval. “Thank goodness I keep away from these people.”
She laughed. “Sometimes I think you don’t attend parties just to stay out of trouble with your mother. You’re such a good girl.”
“Hey, I can be a bad girl.” I snorted a laugh. “I could get into trouble if I wanted to.”
