Three

      Amanda glanced at the small, crystal clock sitting on her desk. Four-twenty. The knot in her stomach tightened. Only ten more minutes before Michael arrived.

      Unable to concentrate, she closed the file folder she had been studying and, walking across the room, she gazed out the window to the school playground at the dozen or so children who had remained for after-school care.

      Hearing a squeal of laughter, Amanda smiled as she spotted Summer—her long, dark braids flying behind her while she raced across the yard engaged in a game of tag.

      She wasn’t at all the same child she had been when they had started working together ten weeks ago, Amanda thought. Sad and withdrawn, it had been so heartening to gain the little girl’s trust, to help her sort through her confusion and pain at her mother’s death. Of course, Michael’s love and attention had made her job easier by far.

      Michael.

      Amanda cursed herself for thinking of him again. It was pointless to think about him.

      Instead she focused on Summer’s smiling face, and her heartstrings tugged once more. She was going to miss the child. But there was nothing she could do. And considering the outcome of her last encounter with Michael, perhaps it was for the best. She certainly couldn’t risk another evening like the previous Friday’s.

      Amanda touched her lips, recalling all too vividly how that evening had ended. Longing, hot and demanding, flickered through her as she remembered the feel of Michael’s lips, the warmth of his breath, the hardness of his body against her own. Squeezing her eyes shut, she fought back a groan as she recalled her own wanton response.

      “Amanda?”

      She tensed at the sound of Michael’s voice. She wasn’t ready to face him—not yet, not when the memory of his kiss was so fresh.

      “The secretary did say four-thirty, didn’t she?”

      Attempting to school her expression, Amanda turned around slowly. “Yes. Please, come in.”

      When he closed the door and stepped inside, the room seemed somehow smaller. “You can sit down, if you’d like.” She gestured toward the chair across from her desk.

      He cut across the room in swift, easy strides, stopping in front of her. “I tried to reach you all weekend,” he said softly, his eyes searching hers.

      “I know. I got your messages.” All five messages. And because the temptation to pick up the telephone and talk to him had been so strong, she had deliberately spent her weekend working in the garden and stalking the city’s shopping centers. She’d tried on clothes she neither needed nor wanted only to return home empty-handed and exhausted. When the calls had persisted, she had taken herself off to a movie.

      “Why didn’t you return my calls?”

      Amanda met his questioning gaze. “I thought it best not to.”

      “Better for whom?” he asked, frowning.

      “For me. And possibly for you, too.”

      “You’re wrong,” he said, a slight edge in his voice. “On both counts. There’s something good between us, Amanda, and you know it. What are you so afraid of?”

      You, she wanted to shout. The things you make me feel, the things you make me want. The risks you make me want to take.

      Instead she simply said, “I told you before, my reasons for not going out with you are personal. I have no desire to explain those reasons to you and I doubt that you’d understand them even if I did. The problem is me, Michael—not you. But, believe me, I’m serious when I tell you you’re wasting your time. There can’t ever be anything between us.”

      “What about last Friday?” he demanded. “Are you going to tell me it didn’t mean anything to you? That it was nothing?”

      “Last Friday was very special.” For a few short hours she had been able to put the past and its painful scars behind her. But despite the explosive chemistry and her growing feelings for him, Michael was still a man with a child—a child very much in need of a mother. She wouldn’t take a chance on being used again.

      “I had a lovely time, but it was still a mistake. A relationship with you would mean too many complications and I don’t want or need any more complications in my life. Please accept that.”

      “I can’t.” His jaw clenched; a muscle ticked angrily in his cheek. “And I’m not going to let you accept it, either. I won’t let you throw us away, Amanda.”

      Amanda tipped up her chin. “You don’t have a choice. I have no intention of going out with you again and now that Summer’s no longer in therapy, there’s no reason for us to see each other at all.”

      “But that’s where you’re wrong.” His lips smoothed into a slow, knowing smile. “We will be seeing each other. You see, I’m giving you the two months with Summer that you asked for. I’m not taking her out of your program. In fact, I’ve already told her she can stay. So, you and I will be seeing each other—a lot—at least for the next couple of months.”

      “But I thought...” Surprised and unsettled by his change in attitude, Amanda turned away. “When Summer didn’t show up for her appointment yesterday, I assumed you’d withdrawn her from the program.”

      “Then you assumed wrong.”

      She had been so sure she wouldn’t have to see him again after today. Now she would be faced with not only seeing him but with dealing with the memories and desires he sparked in her.

      “Don’t you remember me telling you last week that Summer had a dental appointment and wouldn’t be able to come on Monday?”

      Vaguely, Amanda recalled the words, but at the time she’d been so disturbed by the way he’d been looking at her that she had failed to write it down.

      “Did you really think I’d just pull her out of the program without telling you first? Especially after you tried so hard to convince me to let her stay?” His voice held a wealth of disappointment.

      That was exactly what she had thought. And it had made her decision not to see him again easier somehow.

      “You don’t have to bother answering that. It’s obvious what you thought.” He took a deep breath and released it. “For the record, you were right. Summer does need help. Help that I can’t give her. I was a fool to even consider pulling her out of the program. She needs you, Amanda. I need you. Will you help me?”

      She wanted to refuse him.

      She couldn’t, not when he was looking at her with such warmth in his eyes.

      “All right,” Amanda answered, her voice thick. “I’ll keep working with Summer until the end of the school term—but on one condition. We keep our relationship strictly professional. Agreed?”

      When