Man of Her Dreams Debra Webb (top 100 books to read txt) 📖

the other side of that wall. Before she could stop herself, she’d walked over to the wall that stood between them and placed her hand there. Just like last night, it felt hot to the touch. She frowned, shook her head and touched it again. Cool plaster greeted her this time.

Her imagination, she assured herself. She had to get this silly infatuation out of her head.

Aidan was just a guy.

A handsome one, admittedly, but just a guy.

She had enough troubles right now without borrowing more.

Tomorrow, she would begin the search for a new job. She couldn’t stay unemployed forever. Though she had fair-sized savings and her parents’ home, that was no excuse to sit around and feel sorry for herself.

Work. She needed work.

Clearly a distraction with her new neighbor wasn’t the proper therapy for her just now.

No matter how right it felt.

Chapter Six

“Ms. Shepard, your résumé looks excellent.”

Darby held her breath. Please let him say yes.

The administrator for the Riverwalk Preschool looked at her over his wire-rimmed glasses. “I appreciate your candor regarding your current dilemma with the media. I am quite aware of the circumstances.”

The air evacuated her lungs on a weary sigh. Here it came. The kiss of death. She was qualified—overqualified—but the preschool simply wouldn’t be able to tolerate the negative notoriety.

“I see no reason why such unfair circumstances should keep a good teacher out of work.”

Relief, so profound it made her feel momentarily faint, rushed through her veins. She had a job!

“Thank you, Mr. Wesley. I really love working with children.”

He smiled. “I can see that.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost noon and our small Saturday group will be leaving. How about you begin Monday morning. Eight o’clock?”

She nodded. “That’s perfect.” She stood and offered her hand. “Thank you so much, Mr. Wesley. I appreciate your confidence.”

“I’ll give you a quick tour of our facility on your way out,” he offered.

Most of the children were gone already, but Darby got to meet two that would be in her weekday class. The preschool offered preparatory classes Monday through Friday, from 7:30 until 3:30. An evening day care continued from three until six. Then on Saturdays, from nine until noon, a mothers’ morning out drop-off was offered for those who couldn’t manage to shop and keep up with kids at the same time.

The atmosphere was very inviting, family-oriented. Darby felt comfortable immediately. She met three other teachers who, like her, had a primary education degree. Every instinct told her that this would be a perfect fit. The preschool was close enough to home that she could ride her bike or the streetcar. Its focus was on preparing the children for elementary school.

It was perfect.

Darby left the preschool and walked along Canal Street. She hadn’t bothered with her bike since it was such a lovely morning. The air had been fresh and crisp. Even now, at quarter of twelve, it wasn’t too warm.

She surveyed the busy sidewalks filled with tourists and shoppers. The buzz of excitement that defined New Orleans felt thick in the air. Jazz notes wafted from the horn of a lone sax player hoping to make a few bucks on a street corner this morning. Darby paused and tossed a dollar into the open instrument case at his feet. He nodded, never missing a note, and she smiled, grateful for the day…for her new job.

And for her new temporary neighbor.

She gave herself a little mental shake as she continued to meander through the crowd. She hadn’t seen him this morning. His presence, though, had been palpable. He was at home, she’d felt certain. Maybe still sleeping when she left for her interview at 10:30, though she didn’t take him for one to waste such a beautiful day in bed. Unless he had the proper motivation. Instantly, the image of the two of them naked and in his bed flashed in her mind.

Okay, Darby, focus. The man was not some sex object whose sole purpose was to fuel her fantasies. Nor was he a stray puppy to be cuddled and taken in without question. Especially considering what she’d just been through with a killer. She, of all people, knew what man was capable of.

That she felt no fear of Aidan Tanner unsettled her.

Not that she generally walked around suspicious, but she’d always been cautious. Her parents had raised her to be smart and levelheaded when it came to men and life in general. Sometimes she wondered if her cautious nature had something to do with the dreams about the men in white coats.

A chill raced across her skin even as she allowed the thought. Her parents had adopted her when she was ten, but her memories prior to that were sketchy at best. She vaguely remembered school…somewhere. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t dredge up any recollection of her biological parents, though she’d seen pictures of them. There was a close bond of some sort from that time. She remembered it…still sensed it. With her parents, she presumed. The lingering memory of that connection made her feel safe sometimes in the middle of the night when she felt all alone.

She missed the Shepards. They’d been such good people, had loved her as their own. She wondered why it wasn’t the bond she’d experienced with them that made her feel safe in moments of personal indecision or crisis. Why some almost forgotten connection with a person or persons she didn’t even remember?

Darby suddenly stopped in the middle of the block and looked around. She blinked, utterly surprised, then smiled. She was out in public and no one had approached. No cameras were snapping away, no dogged reporters were following her. Could it possibly be over?

She looked heavenward then and thanked God for yet another blessing.

Maybe she really would get her life back now.

Not willing to take any unnecessary chances on being spotted by any loitering paparazzi, Darby took a side street that was a bit off the beaten