attention.” Or prevent her from becoming his temporary wife. “I also need to know about anyone who may come into regular contact with my niece so that I can have them checked out.”
“Of course.” She inclined her head and another curl escaped, this one just behind her left ear. The shiny black ringlet bounced against the long line of her neck, providing an irritating distraction. “No, to answer your question, I’m not in an intimate relationship.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “What about a casual relationship?”
A hint of color marched along the sculpted curve of her cheekbones. “I’m not in any sort of relationship at all.”
He fought the satisfaction her response elicited. “How do you get along with your family?”
He’d caught her by surprise again. “There’s just my father, and we get along fine.”
“How often do you see him?”
Her brow puckered in bewilderment. “Once a week. Sometimes more often, now that I’m back in South Carolina.”
“Does he live in Charleston?”
“Jim Isle, born and bred.”
“How much contact do you anticipate he’ll have with Isabella?”
To his surprise, a flash of alarm flickered through her eyes, darkening the honey gold to a deep amber. “I … I don’t anticipate there being any contact between them.”
He digested that for a moment. “Why not?” he finally asked.
She floundered for an instant. It was the first time he’d seen a serious crack in her composure and it filled him with curiosity. “Because my time with Isabella is business related and the time I spend with my father is personal. I really don’t see the two crossing paths.”
Interesting. “You believe in keeping your work and home life separate?”
“Don’t you?” When he didn’t respond to the question, she brushed it aside with a fleeting wave of her hand. “Yes, I prefer to keep the two parts of my life separate.”
“Is there some reason you don’t want your father to come into contact with Isabella? Does he have a criminal record? Would he be a bad influence on a child?”
“No,” she instantly denied. “Not at all. My father is a good man. I just prefer to keep my family life private. Is that a problem for you?”
“I have no objection either way.”
Surprise swept across her face, followed by relief, before she masked her emotions behind a facade of calm serenity. It was an interesting transformation to watch. He suspected her exquisite self-control was an innate part of her personality, and he couldn’t help wondering what circumstances had occurred in her life that had required her to develop this ability. Had she also experienced trauma? Was that why she shrouded herself in unruffled composure, as a way to combat the whirlwind of strife and turmoil?
He took a quick stab in the dark. “You mention your father, but not your mother.”
She took a quick breath. “My mother died when I was twelve.”
“A difficult age to lose a mother.”
A dry smile kicked up the corner of her mouth. “Is there a good age?”
“No. Even so … You must have learned coping mechanisms.”
“Eventually.”
“Would any of them help Isabella?”
“Some.” She considered briefly. “In theory.”
“Why in theory?”
“Because Isabella isn’t me,” she explained. “What worked for one person might not work for another. It’s not a one-size-fits-all.”
He leaned back in his chair and studied her for a long moment. He was tempted to hire her. So very, very tempted. Again, he sensed a ripple of tension just beneath her calm expression. “You’ve met Isabella. You see how much work it’s going to take to get through to her. Why do you want this job so badly?”
Annalise moistened her lips and answered with care. “Isabella needs help. Maybe I can give her that help. At the very least I’ll find out whether I’m capable of handling special-needs children.”
“I’m not sure I want to hire someone who regards this as an experiment or a test of their capabilities.” She didn’t respond to the observation, though he could tell his comment worried her. “There’s one other detail you should know about Isabella.”
“Which is?”
He decided to lay it out for her. If it scared her off, he’d know she was wrong for the job. “After we explained what happened to her parents, my niece stopped speaking.”
Annalise inhaled sharply. “She doesn’t talk? Not at all?”
“She screams. That’s her communication of choice. So you can see why I’d like the most experienced person possible for this job.”
“Yes, I can understand that,” she conceded. “But I’d still like a shot at the position.”
Jack released his breath in a slow sigh. There were two reasons he