Inherited:OneChild(3)

He tilted his head to one side. That would fit in with his own plans.   She could pursue her master's program-a program he'd be only too happy   to pay for-while playing the role of devoted wife and mother. "Would you   be willing to commit to an employment contract of two full years? And   would you be willing to homeschool Isabella, if needed?"

She folded her hands in her lap and met his gaze dead-on. "It will take   me two years to complete my master's program, so that aspect isn't a   problem. Since it's the end of the school year right now, your niece and   I will have the summer to work out a comfortable routine before fall   classes begin. If you want to initiate a schooling program for her at   that point, I'll have the next few months to put together a curriculum   that meets with your approval. Then I can implement Isabella's lessons   while I begin evening classes toward my master's."

Despite her outer calm, he sensed a certain level of nervousness-almost   anxiety-and couldn't help but wonder what caused it. He allowed the   silence to drag while he considered the various reasons for her turmoil.   She could be nervous because she was lying to him about something, in   which case he'd find a way to get to the truth. The irony of that fact   didn't escape him, considering this entire interview was a huge fraud.   Even so, he needed to trust his future wife, which meant all the cards   on the table. Of course, she could be nervous because she didn't handle   interviews well. One other possibility occurred to him, one that  caused  his gut to tighten and an unwanted hunger to gnaw at him.

Maybe he made her uneasy. Maybe she'd experienced the same odd awareness   that he had. She didn't break the lengthy silence with a rush of   nervous explanations the way many would have. That fact alone impressed   the hell out of him.

"Let me be frank, Annalise. I'm concerned that you may change your mind   midsummer and take a teaching position, leaving me to go through this   process all over again. Isabella's had enough trauma and loss in her   life without experiencing another so soon."

"That won't happen."

Instinct told him that she spoke with absolute sincerity. Even so, he   sensed an intense emotional current that continued to ripple just   beneath the surface, though he still couldn't quite pinpoint the reason   for it. Perhaps it was a simple case of interview jitters. He glanced   down at her file.                       
       
           



       

"I see you've also had some training with special-needs."

She stilled in the act of brushing another loosened curl away from her   eyes. Her expression grew troubled. "Has Isabella always been a   special-needs child? Or is today's incident related to the plane crash?"

He hesitated, choosing his words with care. "It started after she came   to live with me. I want to make sure I hire someone who can help her   adjust. Frankly, I don't think you have the necessary experience."

"Is she seeing a counselor?"

"I don't have much choice in the matter. CPS has insisted."

She raised an eyebrow at his dry tone. "With good reason. Children of   that age can be manipulative. If she feels like you're cutting her some   slack because of her loss, she'll use that for as long as it works. You   should also consider talking to one yourself in order to learn how to   best provide for her needs."

He leaned back in his chair and lifted an eyebrow. "Do I look like the   sort of man who can be easily manipulated? Or is it just that you don't   think I can provide for her needs?"

"Look, I'm not saying you can't or shouldn't give her love and stability   and reassurance. I'm just suggesting you don't allow pity to make you   too indulgent." Then she grinned, the vibrant flash of it arrowing   straight through to his gut. "And now I've moved from dispensing   unwanted advice to lecturing. It's well-intentioned, honestly."

He knew it, just as he knew it was advice identical to that of the   psychologists he'd consulted. "How would you deal with her temper   tantrums? If I hire you, you won't be able to do what you did a few   moments ago and hand Isabella off to someone else. Next time you'll be   the one in charge."

"I'll try a variation on what I did today. Ignore her screaming when   practical, making sure she can't injure herself. Remove her from the   situation when necessary, particularly if we're in public. Afterward,   talk to her in a calm fashion and make it clear that her behavior is   unacceptable. In time, when she doesn't get the response she's hoping   for, she should stop." She offered a wry smile. "Of course, then she'll   try something else."

Curiosity filled him. "What did you say to her before you put her out?"

"I told her that screaming is unacceptable behavior, and that there are consequences when she chooses to resort to a tantrum."

"What sort of consequences?" His eyes narrowed. "Do you believe in spanking?"

"No, I don't," she retorted crisply. "Do you?"

A smile loosened his mouth before he could prevent it. "No."

"That's a relief."

"So, if you don't utilize corporal punishment, then how do you plan to change her behavior?"

He was genuinely curious, since none of the methods he'd attempted had   worked. Of course, he had not been consistent, nor had he been   Isabella's main caregiver except for those first weeks immediately after   the plane crash. Right on the heels of her release from the hospital,   his work obligations had taken up most of his time, limiting the hours   he spent with her. Plus, he doubted the interim sitters he'd employed   had helped the situation. There hadn't been any consistency in his   parenting and it showed.

"Is she intelligent?"

"Highly."

Annalise nodded. "She needs to be challenged intellectually, as well as   physically, in order to help her stress level. In other words, she  needs  to engage in activities that will allow her to cope with her  grief and  confusion and work through them at her own pace. It would  help to have a  daily schedule that doesn't vary, so she knows that  every day she gets  up at the same time, eats at the same time, goes to  bed at the same  time, all of which gives her a feeling of security."

"She doesn't have that right now."

Annalise lifted a shoulder in an expressive shrug. "Because she's so   young she may not be able to verbalize her fears and concerns. It would   help to find creative outlets that allow for that expression. Painting   or coloring, games that require organization, regular exercise, other   children she can socialize with so she can just be a quote-unquote child   for a while." She paused. "Does she have nightmares?"

"Yes."

Annalise nodded, as though not surprised. "She may also revert to   behaviors she exhibited at a far younger age, such as thumb-sucking or   bed-wetting."

"I haven't noticed any of that, so far." Well, except for one   not-so-minor detail that he'd neglected to mention-her refusal to speak.                       
       
           



       

Annalise leaned forward. "As I said, continuing with a counselor is   vital. He can help you and Isabella's main caregiver develop some   strategies to assist in her recovery."

Annalise was right and he knew it. He glanced down at his list of   questions and moved on to less complicated issues. "I'm sure my   assistant mentioned that this job is five days a week, daytime shift."

"Will you be hiring a nighttime caregiver?"

"I did that right after I brought Isabella home from the hospital. Mrs.   Walters will arrive at the end of your shift and cover until I get  home.  She also stays overnight when I'm out of town on business. If I  needed  you on an occasional night, would that be a problem?"

"Not at all."

So far, so good. He tapped a finger on the list of questions and moved   on to the next issue. "Do you have a first-aid certificate?"

"Yes, as well as a criminal-convictions certificate."

He flipped through the file until he found them. The first-aid   certificate was recent and, as expected, she didn't have a criminal   record. "Do you have any problem with my running a background check?"   The slightest hesitation combined with a hint of worry passed over her   features. His gaze narrowed. "Problem?" he asked coldly.