She shook her head, effectively dislodging both Caleb Tarrington’s unwelcome presence and Julie Raffet’s romantic prospects from her busy mind as she reached for the internal phone.
Caleb paused outside the door the secretary had specified and took a deep, steadying breath, trying to organize his scattered thoughts. So much depended on him convincing the unknown Miss Raffet to help. If he couldn’t…
An image of Will’s pale face, his small features, rigid with fear he was desperately trying not to show, flashed through Caleb’s mind, and a fierce surge of love filled him. His son! Even after twenty-four hours, Caleb still expected the words to be accompanied by trumpet fanfare.
If only… Abruptly he sliced off the unprofitable line of thought. The past was dead. Over. All the regrets in the world couldn’t change it. All he could do was to try to shape the future differently. And the first step toward reshaping his son’s future was to enlist the aid of Miss Raffet. Caleb just wished he knew a little more about her. All his old friend, John, had said was that she was the best first-grade teacher he’d ever seen in his career as a school principal. That if anyone could help him, Miss Raffet could. But the question John hadn’t been able to answer was would she?
He’d soon find out.
Squaring his shoulders, Caleb marched through the door of Miss Raffet’s classroom. He paused just inside the large, sunny room, his eyes instinctively going to the battered oak teacher’s desk in front of the chalkboard. No one was seated there. His gaze quickly swept the room. The walls were stripped bare, and all the children’s desks had been removed. The space looked abandoned.
He walked farther into the room, not sure what to do. Sit down at the desk and wait for Miss Raffet to return? Or go back to the office and ask the elderly dragon masquerading as a school secretary if she might have any idea where Miss Raffet could be?
Wait, he decided. Facing the disapproving Miss Boulton again definitely qualified as a last resort. Besides…
He turned at the sudden thump to his left. The noise had come from behind a half-open door. A supply closet? he wondered. Could the elusive Miss Raffet be in it?
He watched as a woman slowly backed out of the closet. Appreciatively, Caleb eyed her trim hips, which were tightly encased in a pair of well-worn jeans. With obvious impatience, she shoved the door back and reached for something above her head.
Her action tightened the gray T-shirt covering her small breasts, outlining their perfection. Caleb swallowed, trying to ignore the unwelcome spark of sexual interest he felt.
Completely oblivious to his presence, she braced her slender legs and gave a hard jerk on whatever it was she was trying to get.
The thing she was yanking on suddenly came free causing her to lose her balance and land on her rear on the floor. A microsecond later, what appeared to be the entire contents of the shelf followed. Colored construction paper, yards of dusty white netting and some faded-looking plastic flowers bounced off her head and shoulders. Last to fall was a bag of gold glitter that broke as it hit her, sending gold dust everywhere.
It enveloped the woman, coating her light-brown hair and dusting her small, straight nose with golden freckles. Caleb blinked as the sun pouring in through the wall of windows behind her turned her petite figure into a radiant pillar of gold. For a heart-stopping second, long-forgotten Sunday-school images of angels welled out of Caleb’s subconscious. Then she sneezed, and the explosive sound snapped him free of his memories.
“Drat!” she muttered in exasperation as she ineffectively brushed at the gold dust coating her.
“Are you all right?” The deep velvety sound of a man’s voice poured over Julie, instantly smothering her annoyance. She instinctively turned toward him, squinting as she tried to focus through the glitter, which scattered at her abrupt movement.
Julie found herself staring at a large pair of black shoes. Not new, but immaculately clean and well shined. A part of her instinctively approved. Slowly, her gaze moved upward over long legs encased in suit trousers with a crease so crisp they must have just come from the dry cleaners. But this suit sure hadn’t come from the local department store. She studied the way the jacket molded his broad shoulders. Obviously hand-tailored by an expert. Although she had the feeling he’d look every bit as good in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Or even better, dressed like an Italian courtier from the time of Lorenzo the Magnificent. All in velvets and silks and…
“Can you get up?” The worried note in the man’s voice pulled her out of her daydream.
Julie winced, embarrassed at being caught in such an unprofessional position by such a gorgeous specimen of masculinity. She studied his leanly chiseled features with a purely feminine appreciation, wondering who he was. Certainly not someone she knew. Or anyone she’d ever met. She definitely wouldn’t have forgotten a man who looked like the physical embodiment of every romantic fantasy she’d ever had. And a few she had yet to dream up.
“Did you hurt yourself?” he demanded, worried at her continued silence.
The concern in his bright blue eyes sent a shiver of response through Julie. If none of the normal, garden-variety men she knew saw her as a sexy, desirable woman, then one who looked like this guy sure wouldn’t, she reminded herself of a hard-learned lesson.
“I’m fine,” she muttered, taking the helping hand he held out even though she was oddly reluctant to touch him. But not only would it be rude to pointedly ignore his gesture, but he wouldn’t understand her hesitation. Any more than she understood it herself.
Even less did she understand her instantaneous reaction as his large hand closed around her much smaller one. Tiny pinpricks of sensation raced over her skin raising goose bumps as it traveled. Hastily, she pulled her hand back, breaking the disconcerting contact.
“You seem to be covered in this stuff.” He gently brushed her hair, dislodging both a cloud of gold sparkles and her remaining composure.
Hoping he hadn’t heard her quickly suppressed gasp, Julie hurriedly stepped back and made a production of dusting the glitter off herself as she struggled to recapture her teacher persona.
“May I help you?” Julie winced at the breathless sound of her voice. What was wrong with her? she wondered in confusion. She was acting as if she’d landed on her head not her rear.
“Not unless you happen to know where I can find Miss Raffet,” he said. “This is her room, isn’t it?”
“I’m Julie Raffet,” she said, watching with a combination of annoyance and dismay as his eyes widened in shock at her announcement.
“You were expecting a little old lady wearing a shapeless dress and orthopedic shoes?” she asked dryly.
“Not really, but on the other hand, I was expecting someone who looked old enough to have graduated from college. And John did say that you’d been teaching for years.”
“John?” Julie ignored her frustration at the proof that she hadn’t even registered as an attractive woman with this man and, instead, grabbed the thread of his conversation that sounded the most promising.
“John Warchinski. He was principal here a few years back.”
“Yes, I remember him. Although I’m at a loss to understand why he should be discussing me with you, Mr….?” Her voice rose, questioning.
“Tarrington. Caleb Tarrington.” He stared at her for a long moment trying to decide where to start. He hated revealing the abject failure of his marriage. An older woman, such as that blasted John had led him to believe Miss Raffet was, might have understood how a normally levelheaded man could have gotten himself into such a mess. But this woman…
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Julie suggested with her normal practicality.
Caleb