Wilde for You. Dawn Atkins

Читать онлайн.
Название Wilde for You
Автор произведения Dawn Atkins
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Серия
Издательство Современные любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474017794



Скачать книгу

tion>

      

      “This is killing me, Cricket,” he whispered

      He put his other hand to her cheek, cupping her face in both hands now.

      You mean the you-know?” she asked.

      “Yes,” Tucker said, tilting his head. “We can’t do this.” He moved in.

      “No, we can’t,” she said, standing on her toes, tipping up her mouth. It was as if some terrific force field pulled them together.

      “This would be bad.”

      “I know,” she said, moving closer. “Very bad.” As desperate as she was for his mouth, for that hot, dissolving feeling, she would not be the one who kissed first. She couldn’t be. He was married. Unhappily, according to his wife, but still. He had to be the one to make the first move.

      He wouldn’t do it, she saw.

      But she definitely would. With that thought, she grabbed his face and pulled his lips to hers.

      Dear Reader,

      Cricket and Tucker’s story is dear to me because it’s set in a school. As a former teacher, I felt as though I was living and breathing Copper Corners High on every page I wrote. I even started to have teacher anxiety dreams—you know, where it’s the end of the year and you realize you’ve forgotten to teach reading to your second graders? Needless to say, I related to Cricket’s idealism and her insecurity about teaching, which is a very difficult job.

      What I love about Cricket and Tucker is how much they want to do the right thing, even when they are doing it all wrong. Ever been there? Had good intentions, but fouled up anyway? For these two, the issue is being honest with themselves about who they are and what they really want. They have so much heart and so much passion for each other and their work. Just thinking about them makes me sigh. These two really got to me. I hold their story close to my heart. I hope they get to you, too.

      I’d love to hear from you! Write me at [email protected]. For news of upcoming books, please drop by my Web site, www.dawnatkins.com.

      My very best to you,

      Dawn Atkins

      Books by Dawn Atkins

      HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

      871—THE COWBOY FLING

      895—LIPSTICK ON HIS COLLAR

      945—ROOM…BUT NOT BORED!

      HARLEQUIN BLAZE

      93—FRIENDLY PERSUASION

      HARLEQUIN DUETS

      77—ANCHOR THAT MAN!

      91—WEDDING FOR ONE/TATTOO FOR TWO

      HARLEQUIN FLIPSIDE

      11—A PERFECT LIFE?

      Wilde for You

      Dawn Atkins

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      To the dedicated teachers of Arizona, who daily make a difference. You humble me.

      Acknowledgments

      I wish to thank Jenn MacColl, whose rain-forest classroom inspired me to write Cricket’s story. Jenn, an accomplished teacher, shares Cricket’s absolute commitment to her students. Jenn, my son and I thank you. I also want to thank all the teachers in my life—past and present. You do indeed touch the future. The endangered-owl controversy in this book is fictional, although pygmy owls are, in fact, endangered and live only in southern Arizona and northern Mexico.

      Contents

       Chapter 1

       Chapter 2

       Chapter 3

       Chapter 4

       Chapter 5

       Chapter 6

       Chapter 7

       Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Chapter 12

      1

      IF HE GOT THE JOB, he’d forget women, Tucker Manning vowed, soaping up in the shower. He would be absolutely dedicated. Completely committed. No distractions. No hobbies. No sidetracks.

      And no women.

      He scrubbed his face, then shoved it under the spray to rinse. Steam rose around him, hot as his conviction.

      He needed this job—assistant principal at Copper Corners High—if he was ever to get the one he’d lost.

      Lost because of a moment of insanity with a woman who reminded him of someone he couldn’t forget. A moment witnessed by three members of the freshman girls’ volleyball team, who’d stumbled on him and Melissa in the equipment room…on the vault bench…working out…of their clothes.

      Who knew the girls practiced so late?

      So, if he got this job, no more women. He scrubbed between his toes, hot water peppering his back, the shower air lush and thick as a jungle.

      “Tuuuuck-er, I’m lonely,” Julie, the woman he’d been seeing for the last month, called to him. He sighed, letting the water sluice down his body. Okay, maybe one more woman. Except she lived here—Phoenix—over two hours away from Copper Corners, which was barely a cactus clump off the highway south of Tucson. If he was truly dedicated, he’d have no time for road trips. Or Julie.

      He’d stay nose to the grindstone. Just for the two or three years he had to wait for another chance at the position at Western Sun High, when the guy who’d gotten the job retired.

      He needed that time to prove to Ben Alton, the principal and his friend, that he had what it took to be a good administrator. An administrator who knew how to keep his head on straight…and his zipper zipped.

      The turndown still stung. Tucker hated to lose, but, worse, he’d let Ben down—disappointed the man who’d turned him around back when Tuck was in high school.

      The whole reason Tucker had come back to Western Sun with his English degree from the University of Arizona was to work for Ben, who’d become the principal and been given the difficult task of guiding the school through the growing pains that came with a changing neighborhood. Once on the faculty, Tucker had started on his administrator credential, so he could work side by side with his mentor.

      For the three years he’d been at Western Sun, he’d been busy—volunteering for curriculum committees, serving as English department chair and as a union rep—and he was liked by students and faculty alike.

      But at the end of the interview for the vice principal job, Ben had told him no. Your heart’s in the right place, Tuck. Folks like you, but they don’t think