Читать книгу The Nanny's Plan - Donna Clayton, Donna Clayton - Страница 12

Sitting down at his work table in the lab, Pierce picked up a pen with the intention of recording the seedling growth measurement in his data notebook. But the exact number of centimeters dissolved from his mind as if it had been spun candy on his tongue.

But he’d just measured the darned things.

He tossed down the pen and went back to the seedling tray with his calibrated ruler in hand.

As he leaned over the tray of delicate sprouts, eyes the color of toasted cinnamon loomed in his mind. He straightened, his head tilting slightly to the side unwittingly as he pondered the color of Amy’s hair. It was light brown, of course, but that just seemed too ordinary a description and left him searching for a truer one. There were blond strands that brought out a…a hue that was almost…butterscotch.

He smiled. That was it. Butterscotch.

Pierce went back to the worktable, set down the ruler, picked up his pen—and promptly discovered that he hadn’t even taken the seedling’s measurements.

Dropping the pen, he scrubbed at his face with both hands. Work had gone slowly all day. He had been preoccupied.

With Amy.

Last night his imagination had been stirred to a near frenzy as he’d envisioned her in the tub, the heated water lapping against her creamy flesh—

This was ridiculous. He heaved a sigh and snapped off the light on the table. It was time for him to get away from the lab for a while. He looked at his wristwatch and saw that once again he’d missed dinner with the boys.

He placed the tray of seedlings into the containment chamber, closed the data books and replaced them on the shelves. Tomorrow was another day. Maybe it would be one in which his head was clearer, his mind more focused.

The sky was dark when he locked the door of his lab and made his way across the lawn. He entered through the French doors at the back of the house and locked up behind himself. He could hear the muffled sounds of the television.

“Hi, boys,” he called when he reached the family room. Then he directed his eyes to Amy. “Hi.”

A smile invaded his face, his entire being.

And when she smiled back, he actually went buoyant inside.

“Hungry?” she asked. “You worked through dinner.” One corner of her mouth quirked. “Again.”

His nerve endings trilled and heat curled low in his gut at the sexy sight she made sitting there grinning at him…showing concern for him.

“I am, actually. Hungry, I mean.”

For food? a tiny voice whispered from the back of his head. Or for Amy?

In a flash, all the fervor pulsing through him turned dour. He’d already told himself that he shouldn’t be toying with this attraction he felt for the nanny, hadn’t he? He wasn’t fit relationship material. He knew that. Had figured it out long ago.

“Come on, then,” she told him, pushing herself up from the sofa. “I’ll fix you something.” She looked at the twins. “I’ll bring you back some popcorn and juice—would you like that?”

Both boys gave her an enthusiastic answer.

Softly she said, “Let’s go.”

Why hadn’t he spoken up? Why hadn’t he told her he was perfectly capable of finding himself something to eat?

Because he wanted to follow her gently swaying fanny into the kitchen, that’s why.

Amy placed a bag of popcorn into the microwave oven and pushed the buttons to turn it on. As she pulled down glasses for the boys’ drinks, she told Pierce, “Benjamin and Jeremiah asked for soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner tonight. There’s soup left. And it will only take me a minute or two to grill a sandwich for you. Will that be okay?”

“That will be fine.”

She poured juice into the glasses and set a bowl on the counter for the popcorn. Then she went to the fridge and took out the container of leftover soup, the cheese and the butter. She pulled two slices of sourdough bread from the package.