summer, Will had spent the past school year talking to Caroline’s prekindergarten teacher, her tutors, her counselors, the child psychiatrists and the pediatricians. None had helped bring Caroline out of the shell she had retreated into with the loss of her parent. The death of her dad, plus her mother walking out of the marriage when Caroline was a baby, had been too much.
Will had never met Ava Barton. All he knew, aside from her great reputation, was that she was widowed. He had formed an image in his mind of someone who resembled one of his own elementary school teachers. When he entered the waiting area, he expected to see spectacles, graying hair and a smiling face.
The lobby was already becoming crowded. As he looked around, his attention was caught by a gorgeous sandy-haired blonde who met his gaze. Distracted, he momentarily forgot the teacher while he glanced swiftly from straight, silky hair that cascaded below her shoulders down to a tiny waist. Her short tan skirt revealed her knees, long legs and dainty feet in high heels.
His gaze traveled back to lock on her wide eyes, so green he could only stare and forget the purpose of his appointment.
Seemingly as captured in the moment as he was, she stared back at him. While seconds ticked past, her eyes widened a fraction. When she walked toward him, images of any teachers he had ever had vanished. The realization that he might actually be facing Ava Barton shook him. He should have a professional relationship with a teacher, but the relationship he wanted with the woman walking toward him was strictly that of a man attracted to a gorgeous woman. The tension that rocked him made him want to know her better, and his desire had nothing to do with her job.
He regained his wits. “Ava Barton?”
“Yes,” she replied, offering her hand.
Her dazzling smile heated his insides. Her hand was warm, delicate, soft. He regretted having to let go the sizzling contact.
Fighting to keep his focus on her face and not yield to the temptation to look her over again from head to toe, he released her hand. “I’m William Delaney, Caroline’s uncle and guardian,” he explained. His secretary had arranged this appointment, and now he regretted not giving more time and attention to Ava Barton’s background beyond teaching.
“I’ll get the maître d’.”
Within minutes they were seated in a quiet area near a splashing fountain.
“You’re not what I expected,” he admitted as soon as they were alone. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose, but otherwise her skin was smooth, pale with rosy cheeks. Her lips were full, enticing and as he focused on her mouth, he wondered what it would be like to kiss her. Another unprofessional curiosity. He was going to have to make a choice in dealing with her: keep it strictly business, or do what he wanted and get to know her as a woman. When he looked into her big green eyes, the decision seemed clear to follow his heart. He shrugged away a swift surge of guilt because he usually could follow a professional course with ease. But when he looked at her, he knew there was no way he could stay businesslike.
“Teachers come in all sizes and shapes,” she said. “You’re what I expected, but then I’ve seen your pictures in the newspapers and Texas magazines.”
“You don’t look like any teachers I ever had. I might have been more enthused about school if I’d had you for a teacher.”
“I doubt it,” she said, giving him another dazzling smile.
“You have no idea. I could have been the studious type.”
“You look like the sports—no, the debate type.”
“You’re an observant teacher. Or good at guessing.”
Before she could answer, their waiter appeared, took their drink orders of two glasses of water and left them with menus.
“I appreciate you meeting with me,” Will said. “You have an impressive resume and you’ve been highly recommended by Caroline’s principal and her teacher. The teacher she’ll have next year is using one of the textbooks you authored.”
“Thank you. I feel strongly that nearly all children can be taught to read.” She tilted her head to study him. “If we had talked on the phone, it would have saved you the trip to Austin. I already gave your secretary a list of qualified tutors, so I assume you want to discuss the candidates.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t have missed this lunch for the world,” he said, not just because Ava could help Caroline, but because he was enjoying her company himself, too. She was stunning, and it was difficult to keep his mind on his mission.
“Your secretary told me about your niece, Caroline. She’s had trauma in her young life.”
“She lost her single-parent dad over a year ago, and after the accident she shut out the world.”
“What about her mother?”
“She walked out when Caroline was four months old.”
“Four months? What kind of marriage was that?”
“The kind the men in my family have had. Mom and Dad divorced and it was bitter. But we were all older than Caroline. I was fourteen. Marriage is not an institution that holds appeal for any of the males in my family.”
She had a slight frown as she stared at him intently. “Two marriages gone sour doesn’t mean all marriages are bad.”
“We do well in the financial world. Not so great in personal lives. With her mom gone as far back as she can remember, Caroline poured all her love on her dad. When she lost him because of the plane crash, it was devastating to her.”
“Does her mother ever see her?”
“She gave up all rights when she left.”
“What kind of mother does that?” Ava asked, her green eyes open wide. Sea-green eyes he could gaze into all day.
“The kind of beautiful woman whose total focus is on herself, who loves money and things money can buy. When they dated, my brother was wild and a partying man. She liked to party. When they married, he settled like a rock, but she didn’t want to give up the party life, or take responsibility even though in our family she would have had all the staff she wanted. They agreed to postpone a family until later, and then Caroline was a surprise that didn’t go over well with her mother.”
“Caroline is young for the kind of loss she’s had. It hurts terribly and I’m sorry.”
He glanced at the wedding ring on her finger. “I’m sorry for your loss. I see you’re still wearing your ring.”
Looking down, she touched her ring while her sandy hair swung forward on both sides of her face, making him want to run his fingers through the long strands.
“I wear my ring because I’m not interested in dating, and it keeps men from inviting me out. I loved my husband and losing him was dreadful. I don’t ever want to run that risk again.”
He studied her. “So you’ve given up on men, marriage and life in general.”
“Not life in general. I love kids and working with them. You don’t sound as if you have plans for marriage in your life.”
“I
