A Man Worth Marrying. Phyllis Halldorson

me to tutor Tinker now. We got off to an impossible start, and she’ll never trust me. I’m sorry to say this, but the first thing you must do is undo the damage her mother has done. Then you’ll have to find another tutor.”

      His cup clattered in the saucer as he put it down on the low table. “Unfortunately, I made the mistake of discussing my plans with Bambi.” There was bitterness in his tone.

      “Did you tell your wife you didn’t want Tinker to know you were making plans to have her privately tutored?” Eve asked.

      Gray ran his hand over his face. “Ex-wife,” he corrected her. “And of course I did, but when did that ever stop her. She gets upset if I make plans for Tinker without telling her, but when I do tell her, she broadcasts it all over town. If the kids at school hear Tinker’s being tutored, they’ll undoubtedly tease her, call her dumb or stupid. Children can be so cruel without ever meaning to.”

      Eve knew all about that, both from her experience as a child when she’d been teased about her long, Greek, almost-unpronounceable last name, as well as her height, and now as a teacher whose pupils constantly fought for recognition and didn’t care how they got it. They often taunted those who were different, or spread vicious rumors about a student who was smarter or had a few more possessions than most of the others did.

      She shuddered. “Yes, I know,” she murmured softly, wishing there was a way she could shoulder some of his child’s pain.

      Tinker’s young voice came from the kitchen. “Daddy, I can’t find the cookie jar. I think it’s on the top shelf, but I can’t reach it.”

      Gray jumped out of the chair. “Just stay where you are, and I’ll get it,” he called as he hurried into the other room. “I don’t want you to climb up on something and fall.”

      They were back in a few seconds with a plate of cookies that Gray passed around. Tinker took two, then picked up her glass of soda. “I’m going back to the office and watch television,” she announced sharply, and turned to walk away.

      “Just a minute, young lady,” Gray said in a tone that stopped his daughter in her tracks. “I didn’t hear you ask to be excused.”

      “Please-may-I-be-excused.” She ran all the words together, her back still turned to them.

      “Not until you ask politely,” Gray reprimanded, and it was clear that it embarrassed him to have to discipline his daughter in front of a third person. Being caught in the middle of it embarrassed Eve, too, but she admired him for not letting Tinker get away with being disrespectful.

      “Oh, Daddy,” she said mutinously, but she turned to face them, and once more asked—politely this time—to be excused.

      Gray looked relieved. “Yes, you may,” he answered crisply. Tinker turned around and headed for the back of the house.

      When they heard a door slam shut, Gray sighed and dropped down on the couch beside Eve. “I don’t know what to say, how to apologize for my daughter’s behavior.” He sounded more concerned than humiliated. “I know you’ll find it hard to believe, but she’s usually too meek rather than too aggressive.”

      Eve wished she could touch him in a reassuring gesture, but knew that would be a big mistake. There was too much magnetism between them. Neither of them had admitted it, but it had been building since their chance encounter in the hallway of her school the previous afternoon.

      That sort of thing had never happened to her before. The attraction she’d felt for men had usually taken time to build, and had never really gone anywhere. Except with Damian, and she wasn’t going to think about him....

      “I’m not a bit surprised or offended by Tinker’s bethavior, Gray,” she told him. “The poor child is terrified.”

      He looked at her and blinked. “What do you mean, ‘terrified’?”

      “She’s afraid of trying something new and failing again,” Eve said gently. “Apparently her mother isn’t very supportive of the idea of having her tutored, and let Tinker know it. Then you sprang me on her—”

      “I admit that was a mistake. I should have listened to you. You warned me—”

      “But you couldn’t have known your ex-wife would be so...so...” How could she put it without criticizing?

      “I think insensitive is the word you’re looking for,” he said harshly. “But I should have known. I lived with her for eight years...” His voice trailed off.

      Eve wondered what he meant by that, but she wasn’t going to prolong this conversation. She took a sip of her now-cold coffee, then put the cup down and stood.

      “I’m truly sorry this happened,” she said. “It will make the process of having Tinker tutored much more difficult. But I urge you to keep trying to find someone she likes and trusts. Have you tried counseling? That might help.”

      Gray stood also. He didn’t answer her question, but posed one of his own. “Eve, are you sure you can’t work with her? I’ll have her counseled if that’s what you suggest. You and the counselor could work together, but I have a gut feeling that you can handle my daughter better than anyone else.”

      Eve shook her head sadly. “You don’t even know me, Gray, and I don’t know Tinker. I’m sure, though, that any help I could have given her has been spoiled by her mother’s interference. Both Tinker and your ex-wife would resent me if I tried, and it would only harm Tinker further.”

      Eve picked up her purse and headed for the door. “May I have my coat, please.”

      “Are you sure there’s nothing I can say to change your mind?” He was surprised to hear himself ask the question as he followed her to the closet by the door and took out her coat. The object wasn’t to change her mind, dammit, it was to agree with her that the situation was hopeless.

      She shook her head. “No, but I really am sorry.”

      She shrugged into the coat Gray was holding for her, then turned to face him. “It’s been nice meeting you, Gray,” she said, and stuck out her hand. “Tinker too. I wish you the very best of luck with a different tutor.”

      Gray took her hand and cradled it in both of his. His were warm and strong, and there was a tingle of electricity that flowed from them into hers. He felt it, too. She could see it in his eyes. The blue of his pupils darkened and softened.

      “You haven’t seen the last of me, Ms. Evangeline Costopoulos,” he murmured as he squeezed her hand and released it.

      She turned and, not even sure why, she fled.

      Chapter Three

      The weekend came and went, and Monday morning was sunny and bright But the nape of Eve’s neck tingled, so she wasn’t surprised when storm clouds began gathering by noon. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d been forecasting the weather by paying attention to a tightening at her nape. But she no longer bothered to mention it. Nobody believed her.

      By the time she was ready to dismiss her class, the skies had opened up and were pouring rain onto the roof, which in turn dripped water through the ceiling and noisily into buckets strategically placed by teachers and students in hope of keeping themselves and their school supplies dry.

      It was maddening, and Eve clenched her jaws in frustration. The fund that had been started for a new roof was increasing, but much too slowly. If only there was something she could do! Eve thought. But on her salary she could only make token contributions. If she’d accepted the summer job Gray Flint had offered her, he would have donated money to the roofing fund....

      Tinker. Eve tried not to think about the child, because that led to thoughts of Gray, and she didn’t want to reflect on him. She’d been right when she refused to go ahead and tutor Tinker in spite of the child’s objections. A student had to be willing in order to learn.

      Eve was just getting ready to dismiss the