Maybe he had some kind of sideline that allowed him to teach only part-time. Lucia wasn’t particularly concerned, as long as he could start immediately and control those rowdy seventh-graders.
While she was frowning over the application, her door opened and she stared up in openmouthed astonishment at the man who stood there, hat in hand. The overhead lights gleamed on his curly auburn hair, and he had hazel eyes that crinkled warmly in his tanned face when he smiled down at her.
It was the tall cowboy who’d arrived a few minutes earlier in his muddy pickup truck.
CHAPTER TWO
JIM WHITLEY GRIPPED his hat and stared at the slim blond woman across the desk.
He’d already heard a whole lot about Luciana Osborne. It seemed there was no shortage of folks in this town who were fascinated by the woman and who were more than happy to discuss her when they learned he was applying for the teaching position at her school.
Part of the appeal was her aura of mystery, since nobody seemed to know where she came from, or how she spent her time outside of school, even whether she’d ever had a boyfriend.
Many of the young bucks around town had decided the beautiful school principal was gay, mostly because when they tried their personal charms on her, they were always rebuffed.
Jim grinned privately, thinking about Joe Dan Williams, who swaggered around town in a muscle shirt and tight jeans, and simply couldn’t believe a woman existed who was able to resist him.
Across the desk, Luciana Osborne apparently misunderstood his grin and glanced up at him with quick suspicion. She got to her feet and leaned over to shake his hand, her beautiful face cool and remote.
“Mr. Whitley?” she said. “My name is Lucia Osborne. Thank you for coming today.”
“My pleasure, ma’am. Definitely my pleasure.” Jim smiled at her again, and was surprised to see a tiny flush on her pale sculpted cheekbones.
She was tall, almost able to look him in the eye though he stood a couple of inches above six feet. Her blond hair was shining, clipped short and combed behind her ears in a boyish style that looked both simple and elegant. Her eyes were ice blue, and her face was finely molded, like a marble statue in some Greek temple.
Her body was slim and nicely rounded, with high shapely breasts under a demure white silk blouse buttoned all the way to her chin. While Jim could certainly appreciate her beauty and grace, two things about her struck him as really remarkable.
One was her commanding presence, and the other was her mouth.
Lucia Osborne had a kind of dignity and style, an air of cool composure that he found instantly appealing. This was a confident woman with both feet on the ground, who wouldn’t take guff from anyone. If you ever won her heart, you’d have a treasure beyond price.
But she wouldn’t be easy, you could tell that right away by those frosty blue eyes with their look of guarded caution.
Her mouth, though, was another matter altogether. It was wide and inviting, soft and generous, and lifted just a bit at the corners as if she found life secretly amusing. Luciana Osborne, for all her dignity and icy reserve, had a mouth made for kissing.
The more Jim stood looking at her, the more he had to restrain himself from leaping the desk, sweeping her into his arms and devouring that sweetly curved mouth…
All his wayward male fantasies dissipated like mist in the sunrise when she sat behind the desk in a businesslike manner and folded her hands.
“Mr. Whitley, please sit down so we can discuss your application. For openers, I’m really not sure if you’re suitable for this position.”
He levered his long body into a chair and watched her across the desk, holding his hat on his knee. “Not suitable? In what way?”
She put on a pair of reading glasses and flipped through his application.
Lucia Osborne had the role down pat. She knew all the lines and mannerisms. In fact, she looked pretty damned convincing, and there was no doubt she was good at her job.
But somewhere deep in her eyes he caught a flash of the woman who lived within, the one who probably laughed when she was by herself, and maybe even sang aloud. A woman who felt lonely sometimes, and perhaps even scared of the heavy responsibility of running this school.
Get a grip, cowboy, he told himself, shifting in the chair. Don’t start letting your imagination run away with you.
In fact, this was often a problem for Jim Whitley. He had a warm easy manner, and a vivid imagination that sometimes caused him to endow other people, especially women, with qualities they didn’t really possess. In the past, these mistakes had caused him a lot of painful disappointment, and now he tended to be more wary.
She gestured at his application with a slim hand.
Jim realized he also really liked her hands. The nails were neatly trimmed and free of polish, and she wore no rings at all.
He pictured himself lifting that hand and kissing the tips of each pink finger, then…
“You have a rather erratic employment history,” she said.
He grinned and leaned back in the chair, extending his long denim-clad legs. “Yeah, I guess that’s true,” he admitted cheerfully. “You might say I’m a bit of a rolling stone.”
“Well, I’m really looking for somebody a little more stable.” She took off her reading glasses and gazed at him directly. “This is a very difficult class, Mr. Whitley. They’re bright, lively students, but there are thirty-two in the class. They need somebody with enough commitment to bring them under control and keep them in line.”
“Then I’m your man. I’ll have them shaped up in no time.”
“I see. And how will you do that?” she asked.
“I’m a teacher, Ms. Osborne,” he told her calmly. “I know how to deal with a tough group of students. As you can see in my application, I’ve never had any kind of discipline problems.”
“But this class needs more than a strict disciplinarian.” The principal frowned again at the papers in front of her. “They also need to have their test scores brought up at least eight basis points, because they’re the lowest in the school. They bring down our average. And right now,” she added, her face clouding, “we need the highest average we can possibly muster.”
“Why?” he asked, surprised by her sudden look of tension. “What’s so important about test scores right now?”
She ignored his question. “Now, about your previous experience—”
“Is there anything in my application that leads you to believe I can’t raise their test scores?” he asked.
The flush mounted on the pale curve of her cheek. Jim watched its soft color with interest, wondering again what was bothering her.
“I just…” She waved her hand at the forms on her desk
