One

      She was asking for trouble.

      Chase Ryan leaned both palms against his office window frame and watched the woman standing on the sidewalk about forty feet away, the bus she’d disembarked from rumbling off in a cloud of diesel smoke as she eyed his building, then the piece of paper she held.

      Everything about her was soft, from the long, brunette curls to the swirling skirt that almost reached her ankles. Definitely not the type of woman usually found wandering the street in front of the Wilson Buckley Youth Center of San Francisco, of which Chase was administrator.

      And he had the sneaking suspicion that the woman was none other than Tessa Rose, who, barring natural disaster, was the Center’s new preschool teacher. If that was the case, she should hop aboard the next bus and go back where she came from. No way was that woman equipped to handle the residents of this neighborhood.

      His conscience weighing strong, he briefly considered withdrawing the job offer, although the Center was in dire need of another day care teacher. However, business was business. It wasn’t his job to warn people off, but to hire the most qualified applicants.

      Not only was Tessa Rose the most qualified, she was the only applicant.

      “Hey, Mr. Ryan? You through talkin’?”

      Chase had forgotten he was in the middle of a discussion with the thirteen-year-old who came up beside him. He glanced at the boy. “I’m sorry, Luis. My mind wandered.”

      His gaze returned involuntarily to look out the window as the woman made her way closer. His impression of softness deepened as the July afternoon breeze lifted her hair away from her face. A high-collared pink blouse hugged her breasts. Her floral-printed skirt molded born-to-carry-babies hips and endless legs.

      Not one original thought crossed his mind. She was a fish out of water. A man could lose himself in her. She was the kind of woman you took home to meet