Chapter Two
He was crushing this, Dan thought happily. Pete would be impressed. He’d arrived only fifteen minutes late in the end, had apologised unreservedly and even taken the time to give the gushing Hayley his autograph.
Even better, he had a feeling the pretty head had a bit of a crush on him.
Sure, it was on his alter ego Tyler Moore — he wasn’t stupid enough, or arrogant enough to think he’d caused that glazed look in her eyes when she’d met him.
Still, it wouldn’t do his chances of getting some good PR out of the place any harm.
‘Mr Ramsey.’
‘Dan.’
Her mouth curved. ‘Dan.’ And now he was looking, he could see she had a very pretty mouth. Those soft pink lips looked totally natural. ‘If you’re going to mix with the staff and pupils here, you need to be honest with us. Otherwise it won’t work.’
Whoa. He dragged his gaze off her lips and looked into a pair of sparkly hazel eyes that were no longer dazed. In fact they flashed with annoyance. ‘Pardon?’
‘Come on. Are you telling me your desire to help the school has nothing to do with the column inches you’ve taken up in the papers over the last two months?’
Shit. His jaw hung open, but Dan could no more snap it shut than he could come up with a clever reply.
‘I don’t mind you helping the school for your own end,’ she continued, correctly assuming he’d been struck dumb. ‘Ventures like this usually have more chance of success when both parties have something to gain.’ She paused and stared coolly back at him. ‘But I won’t let you use us.’
Dan swallowed and crossed his legs while he tried to find his tongue. ‘Right.’ If only he had a script.
‘Perhaps you’d like to tell me again how you want to help the school, and why?’
There was nothing aggressive about her tone, or her expression. In fact, he thought she was enjoying herself. Which was more than could be said for him. ‘I think I know how your pupils feel.’
The small smile that had hovered on her lips widened. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t put you in the naughty corner. Not if you give me a truthful answer.’
The words naughty, coming out of a mouth he’d already glanced at far too often, sent prickles of heat racing over his skin.
Jesus Christ, he was attracted to her. Ordinarily he wouldn’t mind.
He liked the opposite sex, they seemed to like him.
Well, except for his ex-wife. Even so, his experience with Natalie hadn’t put him off relationships.
His single friends called him crazy, but he preferred to think he was an optimist. He enjoyed women; the balance of steel backbones against soft hearts and kind, compassionate eyes.
He loved making them laugh, flirting with them.
Being in their company. And God, he enjoyed sex.
The thought made him groan, causing Anna’s gaze to sharpen. ‘Is there something wrong with telling me the truth?’
Flaming heck, even the way she chastised him was turning him on a little.
We do not, I repeat do not, want you linked with any more women for a while.
Pete’s words echoed through him. Time to nip this little schoolteacher fantasy in the bud. ‘The truth is, the guy you spoke to, Pete, my manager, thinks I need an image overhaul.’
‘Perhaps you just need to avoid nightclubs for a while.’
Her dry expression eloquently conveyed her thoughts on drunk men being photographed with scantily-clad women. ‘That would help, yes.’
She paused, clearly choosing her next words carefully. ‘If you’re going to volunteer here, I’d need you to avoid headlines like that.’
Though her words were understated, the heavy weight of her judgement rubbed against wounds that were still raw. ‘I took leaving Love Surgery . . . I took being axed from the show pretty hard. But you have my word, I’m straightening myself out.’
Her expression softened. ‘If it’s any consolation, there were a lot of people upset to see the end of Tyler Moore.’
Including you? He bit down on his stock, flirty reply to an attractive woman. This felt different. Not just because he needed a favour from her, or because of Pete’s instructions. Anna Dalton wasn’t like the women he usually met. She wasn’t as worldly.
Her eyes flicked away from his, as if she’d said more than she’d intended, and there was a heavy pause before she spoke again. ‘You said you wanted to give the children acting lessons?’
‘Well, I wouldn’t be much good at teaching them maths.’
She nodded, her gaze looking over his shoulder before finding his again. ‘How much time were you thinking of giving the school?’
He shrugged, not having given it a great deal of thought. ‘I live in London, which isn’t the easiest commute, so perhaps a couple of days a week? I can stay overnight in a hotel.’
Her fingers tapped against the desk. Slender fingers, with short, unvarnished nails. Practical, like the blouse and black trousers she wore. ‘How about if, as well as holding acting classes, you assist with the school Christmas play?’
His immediate thought was help. Okay, it was a stronger word than that, but it didn’t feel right swearing in school, even in his head. Assisting with the play sounded an awful lot more work, more hassle, more commitment than his idea of a few lessons during school. ‘When is the play planned for?’
She gave him a dry look. ‘Is that so you can quickly organise a holiday, or because you’re mentally adding up how many weeks of your time it will eat up?’
It was uncanny, this ability she seemed to have to see right through him. ‘Both?’
Her laughter echoed round the room. It was an attractive laugh; warm, friendly, easy.
‘At least you’re being honest with me now.
The thing is, Dan.’ As her hazel eyes met his, he told himself she was nothing special.
‘Sid Humphrey has been in charge of putting the plays on at this school since, well, as my daughter would say, forever.’
He smiled to cover his surprise. She had a daughter. Unconsciously, his eyes strayed to her left hand. No ring, though it was highly likely there was a partner. At least Pete would be happy. ‘Do I take it Sid’s had enough?’
‘Oh no.’ A little huff of laughter escaped her. ‘Sid loves doing the plays. It’s just he’s . . . umm, shall we say, a little old school?’
‘By that you mean?’
She winced, tucking a stray curl behind her ears.
‘Oh boy, I feel like a traitor saying this because he’s so keen, and schools need people like Sid who are prepared to give up their own time to help out projects like this, but .
. .’ She trailed off, letting out a deep breath. ‘The plays are tediously boring.’
Relief coursed through him. This didn’t sound so bad.
All he needed to do was help the old codger find a more suitable play this year, give acting lessons for a few weeks to the kids selected to take part, get Anna to agree some suitable wording on a press release to the effect that he’d been a huge help with the production and hey presto. His work was done.
* * *
Anna felt uncomfortable talking about Sid to Dan, but she’d only recently been promoted to head, and putting on a Christmas play that was more than just going through the ropes was a very visible way to show the parents, the pupils and the community that she meant business.
Her predecessor, Henry Butterfield, had been good to work for but he’d only ever seen his role as temporary.
The stepping stone to a bigger school. Anna saw Riddlescomb Primary as home.
It might sound trite, but it had given her more than a job since she’d moved here four years ago.
‘We can fix tediously boring.’ Dan flashed her his smile again.
Now she’d seen it before, she realised there was something practised about it.
It was still dynamite, still made her insides flutter, but she’d like to bet it wasn’t the smile he gave his friends.
‘I’m happy to help Sid choose this year’s play. ’
She smiled to herself at his careful words. ‘And to help him put the play on?’
Dan shifted again on his chair, just as he had earlier. His face might be hard to judge, but his twitchy shuffle gave him away. ‘When did you say it was planned for again?’
She hadn’t, figuring anything beyond a few weeks would feel like a life sentence to him.
‘We haven’t got an official date yet.’ It wasn’t official until the letter went out to the parents.
She was careful not to look at the school planner on the wall, where School Play was clearly marked on Wednesday, 19 December, two days before they broke up.
‘Though it’s likely to be in December. Mid-December,’ she added when his face paled.
‘So, you’d expect me to come here a couple of times a week for—’ his Adam’s apple rose and fell — ‘nearly two months.’
‘Yes.’ And more than twice a week by the end, but there was no point bursting that bubble just yet.
‘I hope that isn’t a problem?’ She smiled sweetly.
‘You did say you wanted to help, and there’s something particularly rewarding about seeing a project through from the beginning to the end.
Plus, of course, anything involving children at Christmas really tugs at the heartstrings.
Even, I imagine, those of newspaper editors. ’
His laughter, when it came, was unexpected. And almost criminally sexy. ‘Have you ever considered a career as a negotiator? I can’t imagine anyone ever turning you down.’
Maybe he didn’t mean it as a compliment, but she decided to take it that way. ‘Does that mean you’ll put on the Christmas play with Sid?’
‘Err, you mean help Sid put on the play?’
She smiled again. ‘Isn’t that what I said?’
Another laugh rumbled out of him. ‘At this rate, Sid will be putting his feet up at home and I’ll be the chump left trying to turn a bunch of schoolkids into stars.’ His face seemed to freeze, just for a moment, but enough to leave her wondering at the cause.
‘Don’t worry. The Christmas play is Sid’s baby. He won’t give up the reins for anyone. Even you.’
‘Thank God for that.’
His words were so heartfelt, she had to smile.
‘Okay, you’re happy to assist but you won’t be taking over.
Message received. And I’m sure Sid will be relieved.
Now all we need to do is agree when you want to start and organise your DBS check.
’ His handsome face looked blankly at her.
‘Disclosure and Barring Service. It’s a background check we have to do before you can help out with the children. ’
Again, he seemed to still, his expression tightening. ‘Is that usual?’
Her heart sank. It was clear he wasn’t happy having the check, which had to mean he had something to hide. ‘I’m afraid it’s compulsory for anyone working in the school. Even if you’re only volunteering.’
‘Anyone? It’s not just me?’
‘Good heavens, no.’ She was having trouble working out what his problem was. Did he think she was picking on him? ‘All the staff in the school have been checked, including me and our volunteers.’
His expression relaxed. ‘Fine. Just tell me what I need to do.’
She studied him, the high cheekbones, arresting clear blue eyes, shaggy fair hair. Square jaw, mouth no woman could look at without wondering what it would feel like, pressed against her lips, her skin.
He looked like a Greek God. A male angel, except there was nothing angelic about his smile. That was pure sin. Still, while he looked like a man women should worry about, he didn’t look like a man the school needed to be wary of. Besides, if there was an issue, it would come out in the check.
Yet what if it didn’t?
‘I wouldn’t normally ask this,’ she said quietly.
‘But this is my school, and the safety of the pupils is my highest priority. It trumps everything, including upsetting celebrities who want to help us, albeit for their own cause.’ Taking in a breath, she met his gaze head-on.
‘Is there a reason you don’t want us to do a background check on you? ’
He frowned. ‘No.’
‘It’s just your face kind of, well, froze, when I mentioned it.’
His eyes darted away, and for the first time since he’d entered her office, he looked .
. . diminished somehow. Less shiny, less bright, less the confident actor.
More the ordinary man, put in a place he didn’t want to be.
‘I didn’t realise the check was something everyone who worked here underwent.
I thought . . .’ he shuffled again on the chair, his gaze finally catching hers ‘. . . I thought you were asking me, because of what you’d read. ’
‘The photos of you staggering from nightclubs and into taxis?’
The dry smile he gave her didn’t reach his eyes. ‘That’s part of it.’
‘There’s more?’
He pushed a restless hand through his hair. ‘Let’s just say my ex-wife doesn’t like me very much.’ His chest heaved up and down. ‘It’s there on the internet, if you want to read it. Just . . . please don’t believe all of it.’
Some of it’s true then? The question hovered on her lips, but asking felt like an invasion of his privacy.
He’d already explained why he’d reacted.
She didn’t have a right to ask him anything more.
‘I promise not to, if you can promise me you’ll help Sid put on the best Christmas performance this school has ever seen. ’
She stood, and held out her hand. He rose to his feet, a good six inches taller than her five foot seven, and clasped her hand. ‘Deal.’
When he’d gone she sat down heavily, the air rushing out of her lungs. Her hand still tingling from where he’d touched it.
Starstruck, that’s what she was. Both embarrassing and ridiculous. Reaching for her keyboard, she opened Google and typed out Daniel Ramsey.
If there was one way to cure this potentially awkward crush, it was to find out exactly what he hadn’t wanted to tell her to her face.