Read the book: «A Nanny Under the Mistletoe»

A Nanny Under the Mistletoe

BY

Teresa Southwick
Single Father, Surprise Prince!

BY

Raye Morgan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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A Nanny Under the Mistletoe

BY

Teresa Southwick

Dear Reader,

It’s December!

That’s exclamation-point-worthy, since I live in Las Vegas and triple-digit heat is just a bad memory. Last year, ten days before Christmas, we actually had snow. Honest. I took pictures, because it felt like a little miracle.

Now the holidays are here again!

This time of year teases our senses with food, decorations, lights, the fragrance of pine. Some of my favourite movies, books and stories are about Christmas. It’s a Wonderful Life. Miracle on 34th Street. Like the themes of Cherish™, love and family are at the heart of these tales. They leave us smiling and possibly reaching for a tissue—in a good way.

So, with 2010 drawing to a close, I hope all of you have a very happy ending to this year. May your December include mistletoe, magic and miracles.

Happy holidays!

Teresa Southwick

About the Author

TERESA SOUTHWICK lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Mills & Boon.

To my friend Mary Karlik, a talented writer and extraordinarily strong woman. You’re proof that the best things do come in small packages. I hope 2010 brings you nothing but good things.

Chapter One

Until now, Libby Bradford had never understood how it felt to be so angry you couldn’t see straight. At least being this furious kept the grief at bay. Or maybe her fear was so big there was no room for the sadness.

She stared across the utilitarian oak desk in her boss’s office. “I really need to talk to someone.”

Probably it was the thread of desperation in her voice that made Ginger Davis shut off the computer. “Just a guess, but you didn’t come to see me just to discuss the newest show at the Hard Rock Hotel. I’m listening.”

Humor normally took the edge off Libby’s intensity, but not this time. “Jess Donnelly is going to take Morgan Rose away from me.”

“The Jess Donnelly?”

“Is there another one?” Libby couldn’t imagine the world was big enough for two of him. At least not in his world. “I’m talking about Las Vegas’s most eligible and obscenely rich bachelor.”

It wasn’t often Ginger looked surprised, but she did now. An attractive, brown-eyed brunette somewhere near fifty, she could pass for twenty years younger and it would be pathetically easy for her. Maybe because she loved what she did. As president and CEO of The Nanny Network, she placed thoroughly vetted nannies with famous and wealthy families who cherished competence and confidentiality in equal parts. She had also opened Nooks and Nannies, a preschool that included child care as well as parent and caregiver enrichment classes. Libby was a teacher here.

“Now it makes sense.”

Huh?

“What makes sense?” Libby asked her boss. “His attorney called and said that when Jess has child care in place he will take custody of Morgan.”

“Mr. Donnelly contacted me about hiring a live-in nanny.”

“He did?” Fear balled in Libby’s belly.

“Yes. I explained that I recently had two of my employees leave the agency to get married.” Ginger removed her glasses. “But you didn’t come by my office to hear that I’m shorthanded.”

“Not really. It’s Morgan I’m concerned about.”

“Since Mr. Donnelly didn’t share details, I had no idea that he was looking for a nanny for your Morgan. I had the impression that your friend Charity left her daughter to you.”

Hearing her best friend’s name brought a fresh wave of sorrow that hurt Libby’s heart. Charity and her husband, Ben, had been in Africa for ten months on a humanitarian mission. They’d been killed by a rebel faction in a raid on the village where they were working.

“No one thought they wouldn’t come home.” Libby’s voice broke and she stopped, trying to manage the unmanageable emotions.

“Apparently someone thought about it. Otherwise Mr. Donnelly wouldn’t be making inquiries about child care,” Ginger gently reminded her.

If Libby had been less emotional and more rational she would have commended Morgan’s parents for taking care of the details. Except she’d fallen in love with the child she was caring for and giving her up to a man like Jess Donnelly seemed wrong on so many levels.

“Jess was named Morgan’s guardian in her parents’ will,” she finally admitted.

“I see.”

“I don’t,” Libby said, squeezing her hands together in her lap. She’d always thought this office a warm place, what with its friendly oak desk and orange and yellow wall prints. But today everything felt cold.

“Why do you question their decision?”

Libby slid forward to the edge of her chair. “Because Charity and Ben trusted me with their child when they went halfway around the world.”

Ginger’s voice was full of gentle sympathy when she asked, “Are you angry because they put a humanitarian effort ahead of their daughter’s well-being? Or because they died?”

“Both,” Libby said without thinking.

Ginger nodded. “You grew up with Charity and were best friends. You told me that her primary goal in life was to make the world a better place.”

“And isn’t that ironic? Because the world is so much worse for her not being in it.”

Libby had spent more time at Charity’s house than with her own messed-up family because there wasn’t any tension there and everyone was welcomed with open arms, accepted in a way Libby would never be where she lived. Her friend’s folks took the girls to nursing homes, hospitals and women’s shelters to give back to their community and make a difference.

“Charity was raised to help people. But now my primary concern has to be raising Morgan the way Charity would want. Her child’s welfare is the most important thing.”

“It seems to me that she’ll be well taken care of.”

Not by Jess Donnelly. The man was certainly handsome, wealthy and powerful. From firsthand experience Libby knew he was also arrogant, selfish and shallow. She’d met him the first time when Charity and Ben got married. Her attraction to him was instantaneous. The earth moved. Lightning struck. Cupid’s arrow nailed her right smack in the heart.

He’d flirted and fixed his intense blue eyes on her. His thick dark hair and Irish good looks had made quite a lasting impression. She’d have been his for the asking. But he’d never asked.

Actually, he’d left with the other blonde bridesmaid, the buxom one Libby still fondly thought of as the wedding slut. In the nearly six years since Morgan’s birth, Libby and Jess had occasionally seen each other, at Morgan’s christening, birthday parties, Christmas. Every time their paths crossed, she felt the pull of attraction even though Jess would stick out his hand and say he didn’t believe they’d met before, then proceed to introduce himself.

The first time Libby gave him the benefit of the doubt, believing a new hairdo and ten-pound weight loss made her look different. After that it became clear that her breasts just weren’t big enough to snag his attention, let alone make her name worthy of remembering.

She pushed the humiliating past from her mind and looked at Ginger. “You think he can really take care of Morgan?”

“Mr. Donnelly certainly has the means to provide for her.”

“It takes more than money to raise a child.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Ginger said. “It’s too bad the two of you can’t co-parent.”

“What do you mean?”

“He has the resources, you have the heart. Seems like a partnership made in child-rearing heaven.”

Libby’s mind started to hum as an idea began to take shape. “I could be her nanny.”

Ginger stared at her. “You already work here at the preschool.”

“Which will save you time in the vetting process since I’m already a Nanny Network employee.”

Her boss frowned. “Since you have a personal history with the client, I’m not sure this would be an ideal situation.”

“I respectfully disagree. Personal history isn’t how I’d describe what we have. A handful of get-togethers over the years.” And none of them had been the least bit personal, she thought with a mixture of annoyance and yearning that annoyed her even more. “He and I both knew and cared about Morgan’s parents. She’s a child who needs all the love and support she can get right now. The last thing she needs is to be yanked away from what’s familiar and plopped into life with a stern guardian she barely knows.”

“You make it sound like a wacky version of Jane Eyre.”

“Not my intention,” Libby assured her. “Just the opposite. It seems like a win-win situation. You said yourself that with his money and my maternal skills we’d make the perfect parents.”

“That was an off-the-cuff comment.”

“But it makes sense,” Libby said, warming to the role of persuader. “You said you’re short-handed right now. This is the perfect solution. I can do double duty—take care of her for Jess and continue to teach here at the school. I’ll bring Morgan with me, just like I have been. Her routine wouldn’t change and that’s important right now.”

Ginger tapped her lip thoughtfully before saying, “There’s a certain logic to the idea that I could run by Mr. Donnelly.”

“Of course he needs to make the final decision.” Libby didn’t think that would be a problem. As long as his personal life wasn’t inconvenienced, Jess would be happy.

“This could be a short-term answer for everyone,” Ginger said cautiously.

Exactly what Libby was thinking. It was impossible for her to imagine loving Morgan any more even if she’d given birth to her. She couldn’t simply turn her over to a guy who had the sensitivity of a robot. She especially couldn’t hand vulnerable Morgan Rose to him, then walk out of her life.

If Jess approved this arrangement, it would give Libby time to figure out a long-term solution.

Jess Donnelly had agreed to be guardian of his best friend’s daughter, but he’d never thought he’d have to. Maybe he’d agreed because he never thought he’d have to. People did that all the time, never seriously entertaining the possibility that either parent would die, let alone both of them at the same time.

But the worst-case scenario had come to pass and now he was waiting for Morgan. In a few minutes the child’s current caretaker would deliver her. Negotiations between his lawyer and the Nanny Network relayed through his secretary resulted in him expecting the nanny, Elizabeth Bradford, momentarily.

He’d checked the child-care company’s references and called a random selection of current and former clients, all of whom had nothing but high praise for the professionals Ginger Davis had provided. Since he didn’t know the first thing about raising a kid, let alone a five-year-old girl, he was more than happy to defer to the kid experts.

It wasn’t that Jess didn’t like children, so much as he didn’t relish the idea of someone depending on him. He knew from firsthand experience how betrayal and disillusionment felt. It was especially unpleasant coming from the one person on the planet you counted on. This was his best friend’s kid. The friend he’d vowed to support. Always. A friend who was the brother he’d never had. Jess had promised Ben, given his word, which put the pledge firmly in sacred territory. When you watched a friend’s back, you didn’t turn your own on a sacred promise.

He blew out a long breath as the pain of loss squeezed his chest. “What the hell were you thinking, Ben? No way am I prepared for this.”

The phone rang, jarring him into action. He picked up the extension from the end table by the cream-colored sofa. “Yes?”

“Peter Sexton, Mr. Donnelly. Building security. There’s a Miss Morgan Rose Harrison to see you and Libby—”

“They’re expected,” he said. “Bring them up.”

Jess had fervently hoped the newly hired nanny would get here before Morgan so he’d have an on-site expert who could hit the ground running when he took custody of the little girl. If the nanny didn’t show up soon, he’d be calling Ms. Davis and make Nanny Network news as the first dissatisfied client putting a big fat black mark on its pristine reputation.

The doorbell sounded and since he was already standing in the two-story foyer, it took only a second to answer. A young woman and small girl stood there—Libby and Morgan.

The taller blonde was slim, blue-eyed and pretty plain. Or maybe plainly pretty. On the few occasions they’d met, he’d never been able to decide. Her shiny hair turned under and barely touched the collar of the white cotton blouse peeking from the neck of her navy sweater. Dark denim jeans did remarkable things to her hips and legs, leaving no mixed feelings about his opinion of her figure, which was firmly in the approval column.

The little, tiny blonde who clutched an old, beat-up doll to her chest had curly hair and brown eyes she’d inherited from her father as well as the hint of an indentation in her determined chin. Both blondes stared expectantly up at him.

“Hi,” he held out his hand. “Jess Donnelly.”

“We’ve met.”

“Right. How long has it been?”

“Last Christmas. Almost a year ago.”

He remembered seeing her under the mistletoe at Ben and Charity’s holiday party. It would have been so easy to catch her there and claim the kiss he’d wanted since the first time he’d seen her, but he’d deliberately let the chance slip by. Instinct said she wasn’t the sort of woman he could easily walk away from and he didn’t get involved with any other kind.

“You look great.” An understatement.

Libby glanced at the little girl for a moment. “We missed you at the memorial service.”

“Yeah.” Pain sliced through him at the reminder that his friend was gone. “I was in Europe on business and there was a snow storm. The airport was closed for two days.”

“I see.”

He couldn’t tell from her carefully neutral tone whether she did or not. Either way there was nothing he could do about that. And what really mattered was his friend’s child.

He looked down at her. “Hello, Morgan. Do you remember me?”

Her blond curls bounced when she shook her head. “Not really.”

“That’s okay,” he said, guilt twisting in his gut. “Welcome to my home.”

“Nice place,” Libby said. Something flashed quickly through her eyes before she continued in a pleasant voice, “The security gates are pretty cool and a twenty-four hour guard who used his key card to escort us to the penthouse on the top floor of the building, in the private elevator, no less, is a nice touch.”

Did he hear sarcasm in her voice? Or was the edge simply a symptom of the awkward situation? Did it matter?

“I’m glad you like it.” He looked at the child. “What did you think, Morgan?”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, looking uncertain as she stepped closer and slid her small fingers into the woman’s hand.

“Are you going to invite us in?” Libby asked.

“Of course.” Mentally he smacked his forehead as he stepped back and opened the door wider.

“Don’t forget your suitcase, Morgan,” Libby cautioned.

The little girl nodded, then took the handle of a princess-pink weekend-size bag and rolled it onto the foyer’s beige marble floor where no princess suitcase had gone before. The woman did the same with a plain black bag. For the first time he thought about the little girl’s things. Surely she had more than would fit into the two pieces of luggage just wheeled in.

Major awkward silence followed that flurry of activity as the three of them stood there. He wasn’t sure what to do next and wished again that the nanny would show up and bail him out. In the meantime he figured that a tour was in order. It’s what he normally did with a first-time female guest. Although nothing about this situation could even remotely be described as normal. And this small female would be a permanent resident, a thought that registered pretty high on his uneasiness meter.

“How about I show you around?” he offered.

“We’d like that,” Libby answered, then looked down. “What do you say, Morgan? Would you like to see your new home?”

Still clutching Libby’s hand, the little girl nodded apprehensively. The solemn look on her pale face said she liked the idea about as much as a double helping of Brussels sprouts.

“Follow me.”

He led them into the living room with its floor-to-ceiling windows that showed the extensive outdoor area. Because the penthouse was on the top floor, he had a private pool and patio with barbecue. “If you want a view of the Las Vegas strip, you’ve come to the right place.”

“I’m sure Morgan is thrilled at the idea of looking at the adult entertainment capital of the world,” Libby said wryly.

“Good point.” Another mental forehead smack.

“Although she’ll like looking at the pretty lights. Right, sweetie?” When Libby smiled at the child the tenderness in her expression was almost palpable.

“It’s pretty high up,” the little girl answered cautiously, keeping her distance from the windows.

Libby looked around the room with its dark wood tables bearing traces of European design. “The couch and chairs are very beautiful, but they look like they’ll show every spot.”

“I haven’t found it to be a problem.” He glanced at the cream-colored furniture with the overstuffed brown pillows, then at the child, the first to set foot in his place. Life as he’d known it was about to change.

Jess led them through the kitchen that included a morning room with a door onto the terrace. The spacious formal dining area held a table for eight, matching buffet and china cabinet. They walked through the large family room, past the leather corner group and plasma TV. After showing them the living room and master bedroom, he walked to the other side of the condo and pointed out Morgan’s bedroom.

“You’ll have a king-size bed and your own bathroom. What do you think?” He glanced at the little girl who was looking back at him as if he’d just beheaded her favorite doll.

“It’s awfully big.” Her mouth trembled. “What if I get lost?”

Instantly Libby went down on one knee and pulled her into a hug. The gesture was completely natural and struck him as incredibly maternal and reassuring. The way a mother should be. The way his mother had been until everything changed.

Libby tucked the child’s hair behind her ears. “It’s scary, I know. Change always is. But in time you’ll get used to it and hardly remember anything else,” she explained.

“What if I wake up and it’s dark and I get scared?”

“I’m sure Mr. Donnelly won’t mind if you leave lights on.” She looked up at him. “Right?”

“Of course.”

She gently brushed her palms up and down Morgan’s arms. “That’s an awfully big bed for a little girl. Probably he’ll get you a smaller one, maybe with a trundle. That’s a bed that slides underneath and pulls out so if you’re afraid at night someone can stay in your room. A new bed means a bedspread and sheets. Maybe the princess ones you like. Then the walls might have to be painted to match. That would be your favorite color and would help you get used to a new place.”

“What’s your favorite color, Morgan?” Jess asked, struggling to find something to say. With the ladies he had no problem, but little girls were out of his league.

“Pink.” She met his gaze and her own was troubled. “Sometimes purple.”

“Lavender,” Libby clarified.

Neither was an earth tone as far as he knew, but no one would accuse him of being the interior design police. Among other things, he built hotels and exclusive resorts, then hired people to decorate them. Exclusively.

“We can talk about altering things,” he said. “But I think it might be best to hold off on any sweeping changes until getting some feedback from a child-care professional.”

“I’m a licensed preschool teacher, Mr. Donnelly. I’ve spent the last few years with kids of all different ages at Nooks and Nannies.” Her full lips compressed into a straight line. “And Morgan has been in my care for quite a few months. I think I’m eminently qualified to express an opinion on her new environment and would be happy to consult with you about what will help her adjust to her new and different surroundings.”

He studied the twin spots of color on her cheeks and the way her blue eyes darkened to navy with this show of spirit. She was standing up for the kid who wasn’t even hers and he wondered suddenly whether or not there was a man in her life. The two thoughts would have been contradictory except for his history.

After his dad died, his mother had elevated him to man-of-the-house status. It was the two of them against the world until she fell in love and remarried, at which time she couldn’t get rid of Jess fast enough. So he couldn’t help wondering if Libby had a boyfriend. If so, was she relieved to hand off this child so she could put the guy first? And he had no reason to care since she’d be gone in a few minutes. And where was the nanny he was paying for her expertise in regard to Morgan’s environment?

“I’m getting the distinct impression that you don’t like my place,” he said.

She stood to look at him, but kept a hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “It’s spectacular and quite lovely. I’ve never been in a more beautiful home.”

“And yet you’re talking redecorating.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how big is it?”

“About sixty-five-hundred square feet, including the pool and patio,” he answered, unable to completely suppress the note of satisfaction. His mother’s main squeeze hadn’t been shy about expressing the opinion that Jess was a screwup who wouldn’t amount to anything. So sue him for taking pride in his spectacular success.

Libby absently nodded as she glanced around. “It’s very big and one doesn’t need to look far to realize it’s a very adult environment.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“The decor is dark. Strategically lighted artwork hangs in nearly every room. There’s expensive glass and pricey figurines on flat surfaces and in cabinets. What if something gets broken because a child is high-spirited and energetic? Sticky hands and art projects aren’t compatible with light-colored fabric and expensive wood. How is a five-year-old supposed to feel comfortable here?”

“I’m almost six, Aunt Libby,” Morgan piped up.

“Yes, you are, sweetie, right after Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. I forgot that you’re almost a grown-up.” A smile turned up the corners of her full mouth, then disappeared when she looked at him again.

“Is there a point to the running commentary?” he asked.

“I’d feel more comfortable if you seemed the slightest bit willing to compromise for Morgan’s sake.”

Jess rested his hands on his hips as he studied her. There was something in her voice and a look skipping across her face that made him think her critique of his habitat was more personal than professional. He hadn’t seen her often but their paths had crossed enough for him to know that she was smart, very smart. But he’d never seen this sassy side of her before and wondered if he’d done something to tick her off.

Regardless of her attitude, he would concede that she had a point. “Is it possible to cut me some slack? I wasn’t expecting to have a child dropped—” He glanced at Morgan and tempered his words. “This situation is not something I anticipated.”

“I understand.” For a split second profound sadness stood out in her eyes, reminding him that she’d also lost a friend.

“Look, Libby, let me rephrase. After consulting with Morgan, I will discuss kid-friendly changes to her environment with her nanny.” He looked at his watch again. “If she ever gets here.”

“If she—” Libby’s expression went from sad to surprised. “Did you talk to Ginger Davis?”

“Yes.”

“Personally?”

“I made initial contact. Then my representatives were in negotiations with her regarding the particulars,” he admitted.

“So you never actually spoke with her about the final arrangement?”

The final arrangement? Just like that he felt the need to defend himself. “I’m deeply involved in a massive resort project. My secretary and lawyer handled all the details.” The look in her eyes made him add, “Both are trusted professionals who have been on my payroll for a number of years. I have complete faith in their ability to handle my affairs.”

“So you staffed out the responsibility of child care?”

Her tone was neutral, the question more about information gathering to fully understand the situation. But again his defensive instincts kicked in. “I’ve done my homework regarding The Nanny Network and fulfilled my fiduciary responsibility as Morgan’s guardian. Elizabeth Bradford comes highly recommended and will take exemplary care of Morgan.”

“Elizabeth Bradford is the nanny?”

“Yes.” Something about the way she said it made him brace himself. “Why? Do you know her?”

“I do. And I’m quite sure that she’ll take very good care of Morgan.”

He detected a definite “gotcha” tone to her voice. “What’s going on?”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a joke unfolding at his expense. A surprise was coming and in his opinion that was never a good thing. “Know what?”

She tilted her chin up, just a bit defiantly. “Libby is a nickname for Elizabeth. It probably slipped your mind that my last name is Bradford. That makes me Elizabeth Bradford. Apparently you missed the part in the negotiations where Morgan’s current and future child-care professional are one and the same person. I’m your new nanny.”

Chapter Two

Libby knew she shouldn’t be surprised that Jess had introduced himself again and barely remembered the last time he’d seen her. He’d proved over and over that she was about as memorable as a bus bench. Part of her desperately wanted him to notice her. The practical, street-wise part instinctively knew there was as much chance of that as deleting her past and inserting one that included a home where she felt wanted.

More shocking was that he’d been expecting a stranger named Elizabeth Bradford. When Ginger had told her that it was a go for her to be Morgan’s nanny, she’d assumed he knew about and had agreed to the arrangement. Obviously she’d assumed wrong. He’d started the ball rolling then turned everything over to his employees, who didn’t have a clue about them being acquainted.

“Aunt Libby?” The small hand gripped tighter.

“What is it, sweetie?” With an effort Libby kept her tone even and friendly. Kids didn’t miss much going on around them—good and bad. She didn’t want the little girl to sense her concern. If anyone was to blame for this misunderstanding, it was Jess. He’d been too busy to take a personal interest, which was exactly the reason she’d felt the need to stay with Morgan in the first place.

“Is it time for SpongeBob yet?” Morgan asked.

“You’re right. I forgot.” And the distraction would be good, Libby realized. She recognized confusion on Jess’s face. “It’s a cartoon.”

“I knew that. I think. Do you want to watch television?” When the little girl nodded, he pointed into the family room. “Right this way.”

He grabbed the remote from a shelf in the entertainment center then turned on the TV. “What channel?”

Libby wasn’t surprised that he didn’t know off the top of his head. News, sports or movies were probably more his thing. That wasn’t his fault. She told him the numbers that were second nature to her and seconds later the big yellow guy with the quirky smile came on the screen followed by the sound of his squeaky voice.

Wow. It was the most awesomely clear, bright, big picture she’d ever seen up close and personal. Probably it was the best, latest and most expensive technology on the market. A far cry from her small, old, economical set.

Libby touched the little girl. “Look, Morgan. Sponge-Bob has never looked better. What do you think?”

The thin shoulder lifted briefly. “It’s fine.”

“Why don’t you sit on the sofa with your doll?”

Uncertainty glittered in her eyes before she scrambled up onto the big, L-shaped leather corner group. She looked tiny and frightened and Libby hated leaving her by herself, but it was the lesser of two evils. The bigger bad would be this vulnerable child being present for the talk Libby and Jess were obviously going to have.

Ginger was an extraordinarily efficient woman. Because Jess hadn’t handled the negotiations personally, obviously something had been lost in translation. Like the fact that he was already acquainted with Elizabeth Bradford.

“We’ll just be in the other room, kiddo.” She leaned down for a quick hug. “Just a few minutes. Okay?”

Clutching her doll, Morgan stared up with sad brown eyes. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart.” She automatically made the gesture over her chest then held up two fingers.

When she glanced at Jess there was an odd expression on his face. Then he angled his head and she followed him into the foyer, where the plain black and princess suitcases still stood, looking very out of place on the marble floor with the fancy crystal chandelier overhead.

Jess, on the other hand, looked right at home. Which he would, since this was his home. She’d always wondered what it was like, a part of her curious about the man who couldn’t even remember her name. But she remembered everything about him in far too much detail. The flesh-and-blood man was even better than the image she carried around in her head.

Other than the wedding where she’d first seen him in a traditional black tux, the other run-ins had been casual and his clothes reflected that. Formal or informal attire made no difference; he was an extraordinarily handsome man. She thought she’d prepared herself for seeing him face-to-face, but steel girders and cinder blocks wouldn’t have been enough to do the job.

It was Saturday and clearly he wasn’t dressed for the office. In his chest-hugging black T-shirt and worn jeans he looked less like the wealthy man she knew he was. His black hair was cut short and the scruff of beard on his cheeks and jaw made his blue eyes look bluer. Her heart hammered, making it hard to think straight, which was darned inconvenient when thinking was important because she had a lot on the line.

He folded his arms over the chest she’d just admired. “So, let me get this straight. You’re the nanny?”

“I am.” At least she hoped so.

“I don’t think so.”

“Give me one good reason,” she said.

“We know each other—”

“That’s not technically true,” she interrupted. Best to take the wind out of his sails before he picked up speed with that thought process. “Knowing each other would imply you remember my name. But every time our paths cross you stick out your hand and say ‘Hi, I’m Jess Donnelly.’” She slid her own shaking hands into the pockets of her jeans. “That says Teflon brain.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know. Teflon. Slippery. Nothing sticks. Like the fact that we’ve met. In my book, we really don’t know each other.”

“You were Charity’s maid of honor. You came to their housewarming barbecue. You’re godmother to that child.”

“And you’re godfather.”

“I remember.”

“All evidence to the contrary.” She bit her tongue but it was too late because the words were already out.

His gaze narrowed on her. “I learned a long time ago not to assume that everyone recalls who I am. I meet a lot of people and always introduce myself.” He lifted one broad shoulder in a casual shrug. “It’s polite, avoids potential awkwardness and now it’s a habit of mine.”

“I see.” But it wasn’t really okay and she didn’t know why. “So you’re aware that I’ve been taking care of Morgan for over nine months?”

“Ben mentioned it.” A dark look slid into his eyes. “Before he and Charity left—”

“When he asked you to be her legal guardian if anything happened,” she finished.

“Yeah.”

“Obviously there’s been something of a misunderstanding. Just so you know, I’m more than willing to take on the nanny job.”

“No.”

“Even though I’ve been caring for her all this time?” She blinked. “Just like that? You don’t even want to think about it?”

“There’s nothing to think about.”

“So you really want to take on a child you hardly know and didn’t come to see while her parents were gone? Not even when you found out her mother and father had passed away?”

“I already explained that I was out of the country at the time.”

“And I was the one here with her. The one who had to break the news that Ben and Charity weren’t coming back.”

“I promised my friend that I would raise his child if anything happened to him. I gave my word.”

“But they gave Morgan to me,” she countered.

“So you want to keep her. I get it.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “The thing is they made me her legal guardian.”

“Paperwork. It can be changed if you agree.”

“I don’t.”

“Even though you don’t really want her?”

“Who said I don’t?” he asked sharply.

She raised a hand to indicate his posh penthouse. “There are signs.”

“I assured Ben that his daughter would have everything she needed and he shouldn’t worry.” He looked at her. “So I found the finest child-care service available to provide supervision. Now you’re here. How did that happen?”

“Since you were too busy to seal the deal, maybe you should ask your lawyer and secretary.”

“I will. And Ginger Davis is on my list, too. Frankly I’m questioning her judgment in sending you.”

“She wouldn’t have sent me unless you approved,” Libby defended. “I’ll admit it was my idea—”

“There’s a surprise.”

She glared at him. “Just think about it and you’ll see that this makes sense. Morgan has been with me since her parents left and it could potentially be harmful to leave her in the care of strangers. I’m willing and eager to be her nanny. It’s a good plan.”

“Define good,” he said.

“Continuity of care for Morgan at a time when she’s especially vulnerable.”

“By that you mean yourself.” He stared at her. “Why didn’t you come to me? Approach me up front and run this scenario by me?”

“I tried.”

“Apparently not very hard.”

“You’re not really like the rest of us, are you? Do you remember what it felt like when the name of gazillionaire Jess Donnelly didn’t open doors or grease the wheels in getting you past secretaries, administrative assistants, doormen and security? Right to the top of the food chain?”

“I’ll admit there are layers to my organization.”

“No kidding.” She blew out a breath and struggled for calm. “I didn’t set out to campaign for this job. As it happens I already work for Ginger at the preschool. We discussed the arrangement and she decided there was some merit to my suggestion. I assumed that when she said everything had been worked out you’d agreed to it.” She folded her arms over her chest. “No one told me negotiations had gone through your minions.”

“Look, I’ve only ever been introduced to you as Libby. I didn’t know you and Elizabeth Bradford were one and the same. It seems a conflict of interest since we have a prior relationship.”

“What we have isn’t a relationship. It’s a series of brief encounters, ships passing in the night. Nothing about that is personal enough to prevent me being Morgan’s nanny.”

He shook his head. “Look, Libby, I don’t think this is going to work out—”

“Aunt Libby?”

Jess whirled around and when he moved, Libby saw Morgan behind him. She didn’t know how long the little girl had been there. “Hey, sweetie. Is SpongeBob over?”

“No.”

“Is something wrong?” Libby asked. Stupid question. Everything was wrong, she realized. But nothing good would come of letting Morgan see her desperation.

“I got scared. You sounded mad.”

“I’m sorry. And I’m not mad.” Not at you, she wanted to say. She hurried over to the child whose brown eyes were now worried and filling with tears. So much for hiding the highly charged situation from her. “We didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Morgan brushed a finger beneath her nose and stared uncertainly at Jess. “Is he making you go away?”

“We were just talking about that.” She looked at him.

“I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to stay here by myself. Please, Aunt Libby—”

When Morgan started to cry, Libby gathered her close. “It’s going to be okay, baby. It will.”

“I d-don’t want you to g-go away.”

Jess ran his fingers through his hair. “Don’t cry, Morgan. Your Aunt Libby isn’t going away.”

“Really?” Libby said.

Morgan lifted her head and looked at him. “Really?”

“Really. I’m sorry. I didn’t handle everything very well. Your Aunt Libby is mad at me.” He shrugged when she lifted one eyebrow. Points to him for getting it. “The truth is that you’re both going to stay here with me and Aunt Libby is going to be your nanny.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You were right,” he said. “It wouldn’t be a good idea to let a stranger look after her. So I’d appreciate it if you’d stay on. Until she’s adjusted to the situation.”

“Okay.”

“Is that all right with you, Morgan?”

“Yes.” She nodded eagerly.

“Then we have a plan for the short term.”

That was good enough for Libby. She’d take what she could get and figure out the rest later.

“Seemed like a good idea at the time” was the best way Libby could describe her first week under Jess’s roof. Libby had been so sure the living arrangement would take the edge off her attraction, but not so much in the first week. Even when he wasn’t there, which was ninety-five percent of the time, the place was all about him.

Pictures of him hiking in Red Rock Canyon. A carelessly discarded expensive silk tie in the family room. The spicy scent of him in every room made it feel like having his arms around her. Or was that wishful thinking? Not that it mattered. Or it wouldn’t if she could say the idea was unpleasant. Nothing could be further from the truth.

“Aunt Libby?”

“Hmm?” She pulled her thoughts back to tucking Morgan into bed. “Sorry, sweetie. I was thinking about something else.”

“That’s okay.” The little girl pulled the sheet and blanket more securely over her.

“Do you want me to finish the story?”

“No.”

Libby studied the serious little face. “Is something on your mind?”

“Yes.”

Libby suppressed a smile. When Morgan first came to stay with her this method of communication had taken some getting used to. Instead of blurting out whatever was going through her head, she worked her way to it with a series of questions. It wasn’t efficient, but eventually what she needed to discuss got discussed.

“Is everything all right at school? Your kindergarten teacher says you’re one of her pet pupils and she’s not supposed to have favorites.”

Twin dimples flashed on the child’s cheeks when she smiled. “Miss Connie is nice.”

“She is very nice.”

Nooks and Nannies Preschool had a kindergarten class and Morgan went there while Libby was working with her preschoolers. Charity and Ben had been supposed to come home before first grade to enroll the little girl at the school near their home. Now their child lived in a luxury penthouse condominium, a different home. Fortunately, Jess had agreed with her that changing schools right now wasn’t the best plan.

“So if school isn’t keeping you up at night, what’s bothering you?”

Morgan clutched her doll against her thin chest. “I don’t think he likes me.”

“Who? A boy at school? Is someone being mean to you?”

“No. That guy.”

“Who?” Alarm trickled through Libby.

“My daddy’s friend.”

“You mean Uncle Jess?”

She nodded. “I don’t think he’s very happy that we came to live with him.”

Libby had hoped Morgan didn’t pick up on the signs that he was ignoring them, but no such luck. “Why do you think that, sweetie?”

“He’s never here.”

“Sure he is,” Libby protested. “In the mornings.”

Her stomach tightened as she remembered just today he’d come into the kitchen to say goodbye before heading to his office. In his pinstriped navy suit and red tie he’d looked particularly handsome. Freshly shaven, with every hair in place, he’d set her female parts quivering with awareness. Darn him. He’d revved up her hormones, then raced out the door.

“Two times he drank a cup of coffee while I ate cereal. But he doesn’t sit down with me. Not like you do, Aunt Libby.”

Sometimes a smart and perceptive child could be worrisome and this was one of those times. At least she wasn’t perceptive enough to notice Libby’s insane crush on Jess, but that probably had more to do with her young age. There was still an ick factor regarding boys.

Libby wished for the good old days because her current plan wasn’t coming together very well. Every exposure to Jess was supposed to be like a vaccination and living here should have been the booster. Should have being the key words.

“Jess is a busy man, sweetheart. He has lots of people working for him and depending on him.”

“Does he eat supper?” Morgan asked.

“I’m sure he does.” If he didn’t, the impressive muscles that filled out his T-shirt would be fairly nonexistent. And they were definitely existent, positively thriving. In a mouth-watering way. Libby had no ick factor where he was concerned.

“I’ve never seen him eat supper, Aunt Libby. He doesn’t like us.”

Libby figured that was true enough for her, but he had no reason to dislike this sweet, innocent child who was right about him not coming home for dinner.

“He doesn’t really know us yet,” she said. “Give it time. This is new for him. He’s not used to us, but that will change. Everything will be all right. You’ll see.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart,” she said.

After a big hug and lots of kisses that made Morgan giggle, Libby turned on the world’s brightest night light. “Sweet dreams, love bug.”

“Okay,” Morgan answered sleepily as she rolled to her side.

With a full heart and troubled spirit Libby watched for several moments, then made up her mind to talk to Jess. It wasn’t long before she heard the front door open and close.

Imagine that. We have touchdown right after the kid is in bed. Morgan wasn’t the only observant resident of the penthouse. Apparently Jess was aware of her bedtime and how to avoid it and her.

Libby found him in the kitchen, where he was reaching into the refrigerator for a beer and the plate of food saved for him. The angle gave her a chance to admire his excellent butt. That thought was immediately replaced by a mental command for her hormones to back off.

“Hi, Jess.”

He straightened and turned to meet her gaze. “Hi.”

“How was your day?”

“Fine. Busy.” He shrugged. “You?”

“I just put Morgan to bed. You can go in and tell her good-night if you want. I don’t think she’s asleep yet.”

“That’s okay. It might upset her routine.”

Hers or his? she wondered.

“You must be hungry,” she said.

“Why?”

“Besides the plate of food in your hand?”

He glanced at it and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I missed dinner.”

“We noticed.”

“Oh?” He removed the plastic over the meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans, then set it in the microwave and pressed the reheat button.

“Yeah, what with your chair at the table being empty and all.”

He twisted the top off his beer and took a long swallow, then looked at her. “What’s on your mind, Libby?”

“Funny, that’s just what I said to Morgan when I tucked her in bed. I could tell there was something bothering her. She tends to share what’s on her mind at bedtime.”

“Do I need to know what it is?”

Of course, you nit, she wanted to say. Struggling for patience, she said, “You’re her guardian.”

“And I pay you to make sure she has everything she needs.”

She walked over to the granite-covered island and kept it between them as she met his gaze. “It’s also in my job description to make sure you’re aware of what’s going on with her emotionally. I thought you should know that she’s noticed you don’t come home for dinner.”

“I see.”

That’s all he could say? Libby rubbed her palms over the black-and-beige granite countertop, but the smooth coolness did little to ease the heat trickling through her. Heat that was part attraction and part annoyance. Just breathing the same air with him raised her pulse when she most needed calm rationality.

In her college speech class there had been discussion of techniques for calming nerves in public speaking. The one about picturing your audience naked came to mind, but with Jess in the same room that only throttled up her quivering nerve endings. Her best bet was to say what she had to and leave.

“Morgan thinks you don’t like her.”

“That’s ridiculous. She’s a kid. Of course I like her. How did she get an idea like that?”

“Besides the fact that you work really hard at not being around her?” Libby struggled to keep accusation from her tone.

“I’ll cop to the working hard, but it has nothing to do with avoiding her.”

“Really?”

“What’s this really about?” he asked.

Apparently she’d been unsuccessful in maintaining a neutral expression. She might as well say what had been on her mind.

“Was weather the real reason you couldn’t be at Ben and Charity’s memorial service? Or was it about dodging the hard stuff? The part where you’re Morgan’s guardian?”

Stark pain etched itself on his face and looked even darker for the scruff of beard that was three hours past his five o’clock shadow.

“I’ll admit to being grateful that weather grounded my plane. But it had nothing to do with the kid and everything to do with the fact that a memorial service meant facing the truth that my friend was gone and he wasn’t coming back.”

“If anyone knows how you feel, it’s me.” Missing Charity was still a raw and ragged wound inside her. She was probably the only person on the planet who knew exactly how Jess felt. And she sympathized with him. “I didn’t want to go either.”

He took another long drink of his beer and pulled the plate out of the microwave. “I’d have been there if weather hadn’t shut down the airport.”

She believed him and that realization made her feel all gooey inside. Under the circumstances that was the wrong way to feel.

“The fact is,” she said, “Ben and Charity made you Morgan’s guardian. The designation implies making an effort to be involved with her. Just like Ben would have been if he were here.”

A muscle jerked in Jess’s jaw as he stared her down. “Define involved.”

Libby tapped an index finger against her lips as she thought about the question. “Think of her as a resort development. Periodic reports from a project manager. That would be me. Intermittent on-site social interaction with said project. That would be—”

“Dinner?” he guessed.

“Go to the head of the class,” she said.

He ran his fingers through his hair, then nodded. “I’ll make it a point to be home for dinner tomorrow night.”

“Promise?”

“Is that really necessary?”

“I don’t want to tell Morgan you’ll be here unless it’s going to happen,” Libby said. Life was full of disappointments and she didn’t want more than necessary for a little girl who was dealing with the worst one of all.

“Promise.” He made a cross over his heart and held up two fingers.

“Okay, then. It’s a date.”

Almost instantly she regretted her phrasing. That made it sound too personal, which was so the wrong tone. She wanted him to take an interest in Morgan, not herself. Mostly.

And so she felt the same conflict of smart women throughout time. How could she want him so intensely when she wasn’t sure she liked him at all?