He lifted one shoulder in an exaggerated shrug. "I needed a break, anyway."

Carlie followed him into his office and sat on the edge of a straight-back, narrow leather chair. Tyler went behind his desk, seating himself with all the officious att.i.tude of any good lawyer.

After skimming through the papers she'd given him, he looked at her again. "You're very thorough."

She blushed and she hated herself for it. "It's just a basic overview of the children who will begin in the program. I thought it would help if you knew what kind of problem each child was having and what their backgrounds were like. The idea is that any child who collects more than three after-school detentions or in-school suspensions will have the choice of joining the team or having their misconduct shown in their grades. Of course, if they choose to join the team, they'll have to contribute wholeheartedly and follow instructions to the letter. In other words, they'll have to work together and get along. They'll have to accept that rules have a purpose, and everyone has to follow them. The program had been used in several schools. So far, it's been very promising."

Tyler nodded, then gave her another of his intent, probing stares. "How many children will we be starting with?"

Carlie cleared her throat and looked away. She let her eyes roam around his office while she spoke, pretending an interest in his bookshelves, but really trying to avoid his stare. "The list I've given you has nine kids. Of course, that number can change daily. And the children will be released from their obligation whenever they show an improved att.i.tude toward school. But no child will ever be forced to quit the team."

"Will we get to compete against other teams?"

Carlie didn't answer right away. Tyler's genuine interest amazed and confused her. She had half expected him to give only a show of concern. But he was studying the list, all signs of the womanizer gone while he perused her notes. She was looking at the top of his head, at how thick and dark his hair was, how it curled just the tiniest bit. He glanced up and caught her staring. At his hair for crying out loud.

He ran his fingers through it negligently. "What's the matter? Have I sprung a streak of gray?"

Carlie folded her arms defensively. "No, I...no. I was just thinking."

Tyler laid the file down, once again giving her his full attention. "About what?"

"About...whether or not we'd be playing other schools, of course," she said quickly. Then, taking a deep breath, she continued. "I don't believe so, at least not at first. If after a time the team shapes up, that would be entirely your decision how far to carry it." Carlie forced herself to stare at him directly, though she felt a faint blush on her cheeks.

Tyler smiled at her again, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands across his stomach. "You have the most unusual eyes. Very intense. Especially now, while we're talking about the children. I don't believe I've ever seen that exact shade of hazel."

She stiffened. "Thank you, but I don't think the color of my eyes has any bearing on this program."

"It was just an observation."

He was still leaning back in his chair, his posture relaxed, his gaze lazy, and Carlie realized he was deliberately provoking her. She decided not to oblige him. She came to her feet, still holding his gaze, and stared down at him. "Personal observations aside, do you have anything else you'd like to discuss?"

Carlie watched as he struggled to stifle his amus.e.m.e.nt. He stood behind his desk, his dark eyes warm and smiling. Then, leisurely, he began looking her over. She tolerated his perusal, trying to keep her expression blank, even while her pulse raced and her palms grew damp. She was well aware of what she looked like. Her suit was a deep, dark green, almost brown, and it was cut in straight lines, effectively hiding any signs of her figure.

"You're tall for a woman."

What an inane comment. But true. Carlie's head was just about even with his nose, and she was wearing flats. She glanced down at her shoes when he did. They were ugly, round-toed, and extremely comfortable.

She drew on disdain to hide her sudden discomfort. "If you don't have any other questions about the program, I'll be on my way. I wouldn't want to keep you from anything...important." She turned, and headed for the door without another word.

Tyler came around his desk and stepped in front of her, blocking her exit. He wasn't grinning now, but she could still see the humor in his eyes. "Forgive me, Carlie. I didn't mean to be rude." Before she could reply, he lifted the folder in his hand. "May I keep this?"

She watched him warily. His apology sounded genuine, but she still felt he was laughing at her. She gritted her teeth, wishing she could rid her mind of intimate thoughts concerning Tyler Ramsey. She hadn't thought of a man that way in a very long time.

She was determined to stop right now. She didn't return his smile, or acknowledge his apology. "Of course. I have my own copy."

Tyler gave her an amused, mischievous grin, almost as if he'd read her thoughts. "Excellent. When do we start?"

"How soon can you start? I'll send home the notices to the parents as soon as you give me a schedule that suits you."

"Tell you what. Let me check things over and I'll get back to you tomorrow. What time do you leave the school?"

Carlie hesitated. "Around four."

"I'll come by then. Maybe we could go somewhere and work out a schedule that will suit us both." He indicated his cluttered desk. "Unfortunately, I don't have the time right now to take care of it."

"I..." Carlie mentally scurried for excuses. She did not want to go anywhere with Tyler Ramsey. The man had a chaotic effect on her senses. He had only to smile at her, and memories came rushing back, so intense, so powerful, that her stomach clenched and her nerve endings rioted. She hoped her thoughts of him would fade with time; she hoped she could eventually forget him completely.

It wouldn't happen today. Though she hated to admit it, even to herself, he rattled her as few people could. But she refused to be a coward about the situation. The best way to deal with a problem was to face it head-on, she reminded herself. Summoning a bland smile, she nodded. "That would be fine, Tyler. Thank you."

She was standing at her desk, stacking papers, when Tyler walked in. Her door was open, so he took a moment to simply look at her. Dressed in another of her prim, spinsterish outfits, her hair pulled back in a braid, she looked like the epitome of the perfect schoolmarm. And she was humming softly.

He felt something shift inside him. Never in his own school days could he remember a teacher like her, someone who actually wanted to help. He'd always thought of Carlie as simply Brenda's friend, a little odd, a lot frumpy, but nice enough.

Now he had to look at her with new respect.

Raising a hand, he gave two sharp knocks on the open door. She jerked, looking up with wide eyes and peering at him through the lenses of her gla.s.ses.

"They told me at the office where I could find you." He stepped in, looking around the room with interest. "Very nice."

She smiled with an obvious touch of pride. "Thank you. I try to make the cla.s.sroom nice. It should be a comfortable place to be, an easy place to be. Do you know what I mean?"

Strangely enough, he did. The room was decorated in bright colors with plenty of the children's artwork hanging on the walls. It was a thought-provoking room. He walked toward a workstation that was filled with hands-on activities. There were dominoes, rubber stamps and numerous math games. The room gave an overall appearance of bustling activity. He smiled at her, seeing that she was watching him cautiously. "You like to teach."

She straightened. "Yes. And I'm good at it. Children respond well to me."

She could be so d.a.m.ned bristly, with no real provocation. "I'm sure you are. You're authoritative, but gently so. Children wouldn't be afraid of you."

Lowering her eyebrows, she gave him a ferocious look, as if she didn't trust the sincerity of his words. He smiled back, and waited.

Finally, she nodded. "No child should ever be afraid. Certainly not of their teacher. I do my best to make sure they're at ease, to let them know they can talk to me if they need to."

Tyler turned away. He didn't want her to see how she affected him. He could still remember being a kid himself, feeling defensive and hurt because his dad wasn't around, and his mother couldn't be bothered. His teachers hadn't cared about a kid with problems. Their idea of understanding was to send him to the office whenever he upset their lessons.

He certainly hadn't had a teacher like Carlie.

"What is it, Tyler? What's wrong?"

Her perception was uncanny. He realized he was holding a math paper one student had left on a desk, and he slowly laid it down and turned to her. "I have the greatest respect for teachers. For anyone having a gift with children. There are too many people out there who don't care about kids, even their own."

He knew he shouldn't have said so much the minute the words were out of his mouth. Carlie was scrutinizing him carefully. He shook his head and wandered around the room, surveying all the desks, laughing when he saw one that was overflowing with old papers. He straightened a chair, centered a book, replaced a pencil that had fallen on the floor.

Carlie began helping him tidy up. "The children may like me, but they're always in a hurry to leave when the bell rings." She indicated the disheveled desks. "They tend to be a little sloppy at times."

Tyler refocused on her. "Do you have children of your own?" He discovered he was suddenly very interested in her.

"No."

Just that one curt word. He crossed his arms over his chest. "You're not married?"

"Mr. Ramsey..."

He smiled. "Do you want children of your own someday?"

Lowering her gaze, she ignored his question and pulled her purse from beneath her desk. "We'd better be going. I have tests to grade tonight and lessons to prepare for the morning."

He accepted her change of subject without comment, and motioned for her to lead the way. They'd be spending a lot of time together, several nights a week. He'd get to know her better, and she would eventually warm up to him.

That thought brought with it images of another woman, a woman who had warmed up to him, only to leave him. He still felt irritated when he thought of how he'd woken up alone, a stupid smile on his face. But even then, he hadn't considered that was the end of it. He'd a.s.sumed he'd find out who she was from Brenda, then have the pleasure of getting to know his harem girl better.

But Brenda said the woman didn't want to be identified, and short of telling her why he wanted to know, he couldn't very well demand the mystery woman's name. But he hated the thought he might never see her again, and he hated even more that the night had evidently meant so little to her. It had been special to him, a night to cherish.

And the woman didn't want anything to do with him.

Carlie was halfway to the door when Tyler caught up with her, automatically taking her arm. "Let's take my car, and I'll bring you back here when we're finished."

"I'd prefer to drive."

Bristly. She was stiff, her arm rigid in his grasp. He had the distinct notion she resented his touch, though he hadn't a clue why. He was getting a little disgruntled with female rejection, and the question came out a little sharper than he'd intended. "Why?"

She didn't look at him, but he saw her pull her bottom lip between her teeth. She had a nice profile, he realized, and the lip she was punishing was soft and full. Then she nodded. "Very well. You may drive."

CHAPTER FOUR.

Tyler had very large hands.

Carlie stared, without meaning to, as he cut into a piece of peach pie, then put the bite in his mouth and chewed. His jaw was strong, lean and hard, with only a slight shadow of dark beard stubble. His nose, straight and high-bridged, would appear aristocratic but for the lump where he had broken it in a fight when he was younger. Bren had told her the story, about how Jason had joined in and the two brothers had ended up defeating four other kids.

His eyebrows were straight and dark. His lashes thick and long. His cheekbones high and sculpted. There was a healthy color to his skin, not a dark-baked tan, but definitely the added color of outdoor activities.

Carlie sipped her coffee, her gaze going again to his hands. She remembered those hands so well, the way they had touched her, their strength, their gentleness. The memory gave her an odd tingle.

"Aren't you going to eat your pie?" he asked.

Carlie pulled her eyes away from his hands. She nodded and took a large mouthful to give her something to do, namely chew, while Tyler filled the silence with questions.

"I could come to the school Friday, around four again, if you want me to do some sort of sign-up, or make a roster. What about you? Can you make it, or is that too soon?"

"Friday would be terrific. I'll put out a few calls tomorrow during lunch to see who can stay over. The ones who can't make it can have a schedule Monday."

Tyler pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. "These are my best times to get together. I tried to make them as regular as possible, so the kids can know what to expect. You can look that over then let me know if you'll have a problem with any of those dates."

She tucked the paper into her purse. "It'll be fine."

"You didn't even look at it. How do you know it won't interrupt your plans."

Carlie gave him a quick smile. "We're glad to have your help. Whatever works for you is fine with me."

Tyler laid his fork by his plate and shook his head. "You know the saying about all work and no play? You have to take time for a social life, too."

"Why don't you let me worry about my social life, all right?" she said, annoyed with his persistence.

"What social life? It doesn't sound to me as if you have one."

That was entirely too close to the truth, and rubbed Carlie the wrong way. "Look, Mr. Ramsey. You may be the authority on having a good time, but I take my commitments seriously."

She watched Tyler's face go rigid, and then he leaned toward her. "And I don't?"

"Not from what I hear."

Leaning back, Tyler observed Carlie thoughtfully. "You know, if we're going to work together, you'll have to get over your att.i.tude. I don't know why you dislike me so much, but it's not something I'm used to. Nor do I intend to get used to it." He waited a heartbeat, and Carlie felt his annoyance wash over her before he added, "I'd really like to work with you and the kids. But if you would rather find someone else to help you with your project, I'll drop out."

It was plain, by his tone and expression, he didn't want to do that. He wanted to be involved, for whatever reasons, and Carlie did need him. She hated to admit the truth, but it was her own personal conflict that was causing the problems. What she needed was an emotional compromise.

After adjusting her gla.s.ses, she straightened. "I think we can manage to get along if we keep it on a business level."

Tyler shook his head. "No go. I don't have a 'business level.' You're going to have to get your little nose out of the air and be friendly."

Her compromise exploded into oblivion. Did everything have to be his way? "You're an extremely arrogant person!"

His chuckle was warm and husky. "Bren says the same thing regularly. Funny, it sounds almost affectionate coming from her."

"She's too softhearted."

"Yes, she is. It's amazing you two are friends."

Uh-oh. Dangerous territory. Carlie held his gaze with an effort, the implied insult overlooked entirely. "We've known each other for a long time."

Tyler considered that. "Do you know many of her other friends?"

"A few."

"Who?"

Ah, so that was it. He didn't for one minute suspect her as the mystery woman from the other night; she was too unlikely to even be considered. But he was fishing to find out who the woman was. She hesitated just long enough, pretending deep thought, until he cleared his throat.

Several names came to mind, most of the women quite attractive, and Carlie named them, watching as he pondered each one. She was ready to laugh, when a familiar voice interrupted them.

"Ms. McDaniels! How nice to see you here. And how is my boy doing?"