A Father's Promise. Marta Perry

work with Sarah for the summer.” Her green-as-glass eyes frowned at him. “If I’m going to do that, and do it right, there’s a great deal more I need from you.”

      The clock was ticking. If he didn’t get back to work soon, it would be time for Joe to leave. Daniel would have to quit work then to be with Sarah, whether he was finished or not.

      “Is that really necessary now? I’ve got about two hours of work to finish today.”

      That deceptively soft mouth set in a firm line. “I’m not a baby-sitter, Daniel. If I’m going to work with Sarah, I have to see her medical records, information from her last school, anything that will help me understand her.”

      He shrugged, impatient. “I’ll round up the stuff and give it to you tomorrow, okay?”

      Daniel had taken a couple of steps toward the door, when he realized she was shaking her head again. A reluctant respect for her tenacity swept through him.

      “What?”

      “We have to sit down together and talk about this.” Her tone sharpened. “Sometime soon. When you’re not in such a hurry. We need to develop a learning plan for her together.”

      He resisted the urge to tell Leigh to handle it herself. She wouldn’t; he knew that much about her already. “All right.” He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “When do you want to get together? I need the daylight hours for working.”

      “What about tonight?”

      Tonight he’d be dog-tired from working all day. But it looked as if that didn’t matter.

      “All right, tonight. It’ll have to be here, though. Joe leaves at six, so I have to be with Sarah.”

      “Fine. I’ll come over around eight, if that’s not an imposition.”

      He had a feeling there might be just a little sarcasm in those words. “Look, I do want to meet with you.” He gripped her arm to add reassurance to the words. “I just…”

      Whatever he’d been about to say trailed off as her skin warmed beneath his fingers. A betraying flush rose in her cheeks. His eyes met hers…met and held.

      He wanted to run his hand down her arm. Quickly, before he could give in to the urge, he stepped back. He couldn’t do this.

      Leigh cupped her hand over the place where his fingers had been. Her green eyes darkened with confusion.

      He cleared his throat. “Tonight. I’ll have all Sarah’s records ready.”

      “Fine.” She seemed to be having the same difficulty with her voice that he was with his. “I’ll be here at eight.”

      She spun and hurried out of the room before he could say another word.

      Daniel went slowly down the steps in her wake. He couldn’t stand there thinking about the warmth of a woman’s skin or speculating about the softness of her mouth. He had to get back to work.

      But he wondered—he surely did wonder—just what he was letting himself in for. Leigh was…he shook his head. Someone like Leigh was out of his experience. When Ashley left, he’d convinced himself he was better off alone. Looked like he needed to remind himself of that a few more times.

      Leigh pulled the car into Daniel’s driveway that night and glanced at her watch. Eight o’clock. She was right on time. She took a deep breath. Too bad she wasn’t ready to face Daniel Gregory again.

      Those moments alone with Daniel in Sarah’s room today—how had they happened? One minute she’d felt nothing beyond a certain mild irritation with him. The next minute he’d touched her, and irritation had been totally washed away by the pull between them, a pull so powerful it frightened her.

      And he had felt it, too. She knew it. He’d drawn away from her, looking as if danger signals flashed in front of his eyes.

      Well, she wasn’t going to get that close again. She’d keep this on a strictly businesslike basis.

      Leigh inspected herself as best she could in the rearview mirror. Given the fact that nobody on the island dressed up in the summer except for church, she’d done the best she could to look professional.

      She smiled. Her former supervisor at the school in Philadelphia certainly wouldn’t consider a denim skirt and cotton sweater dressed for success. But on the island it was practically formal wear.

      Somehow she suspected it was what she said and felt rather than what she wore that would either keep this situation under control or let it spin into something else. It was bad enough that she’d let herself be drawn into working with Sarah. It would be far worse if she let herself feel anything for Daniel.

      For an instant her hands tightened on the steering wheel, and then she closed her eyes in a brief prayer—for wisdom, for detachment, for God’s will.

      She opened her eyes. She was as ready as she’d ever be. She got out and started for the family side of the rambling old house. The other side, where the inn sign creaked in the breeze, was dark.

      Daniel opened the door before she had a chance to knock.

      “Leigh.” He stood back, holding it wide. “Come in. I’ve been waiting for you.”

      Maybe she was imagining the warmth in his voice. She certainly wasn’t imagining the fact that the professional chat she’d planned was going to be difficult when he looked so…appealing.

      His dark hair was still slightly damp from his shower, and his skin glowed with vitality against the clear aqua of his cotton sweater. The wariness had vanished from his eyes, at least for the moment. He was as relaxed as she’d ever seen him. So why did that make her nervous?

      She glanced into the living room. Soft light from the table lamps spilled onto a sofa that was piled with colorful cushions. File folders covered the coffee table.

      “Joe left some coffee for us. Okay?”

      “Sounds good.” She visualized the two of them, side by side on that soft couch. “I can come into the kitchen…” A nice bright kitchen seemed somehow better for her peace of mind.

      But he shook his head. “I’m all set up in the living room. Besides, I might not hear Sarah call from back there.”

      She couldn’t argue with that. She wandered into the living room while he pushed through the swinging door that led to the kitchen.

      He hadn’t invited her to look through the files yet, so she resisted the urge to flip them open, though her fingers itched to do so. Instead she moved around the room, wondering at it.

      The furniture was old enough to be battered and not old enough to be called antique. Someone had made an effort to make the room appealing, painting the walls a pale cream and disguising mismatched upholstered pieces with bright cushions. Daniel’s handiwork? Or had his wife done that before she left?

      She’d seen the photograph on the bookcase the moment she walked in the room. It drew her irresistibly. She picked up the heavy pewter frame.

      The woman who stared back at her had been caught by the camera in the doorway of this room, hands out to the frame on either side. Dark auburn hair spilled in curls to beyond her shoulders, framing a porcelain, heart-shaped face. The woman’s eyes were lit with some emotion…was it love? Her parted full lips seemed about to speak.

      “That was my wife. Ashley.”

      Leigh winced at the sound of Daniel’s voice. The last thing she’d wanted was to be caught prying. She set the frame back in place, as if it was terribly important that it be exactly as it had been.

      Then she turned to Daniel. “She was very lovely.”

      Daniel concentrated on finding room for the coffee on the laden table. He didn’t so much as glance toward the photograph.

      Did he keep it out all the time, a reminder of the wife who’d left