Читать книгу Parents Of Convenience - Jennie Adams - Страница 8

‘FINE. Let Max get his new nanny and bring her back here and send me packing. As if I care about it.’ Phoebe tossed the damp towel in the hamper, hitched her old nightshirt back on to her shoulder where it had slipped down, and stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway.

Max had been gone all day. He had stalked to his study after their altercation, then left a while later, without so much as a by your leave and looking grim enough that she had decided to keep out of his way.

He hadn’t returned since and, even as Phoebe thought about this, irritation flared afresh.

She paused to peek into the boys’ room and nodded with satisfaction when she saw that both Jake and Josh were still soundly asleep. That little tug thing happened in her heart again, and she sighed. The boys had been a gift to her for such a short time.

‘I’ll get over it.’ But she didn’t feel particularly reconciled. In fact, the more she thought about this whole day, and the previous evening, too, the angrier she became all over again.

‘The man doesn’t want me here,’ she muttered, stalking determinedly away from the bedroom with the two sleeping forms in it. ‘He doesn’t trust me to do a good job, yet he leaves me alone with his sons all day and doesn’t even tell me where he’s going. As if I wouldn’t start to fall for them when he leaves the field clear for me like that.’

It was Max’s fault that she was struggling not to care. All his! Phoebe hurried on towards the kitchen and the promise of a cup of soothing tea before she turned in to bed. Today would doubtless be her last in the role of nanny here. After that, all these inner turmoils would be a moot point, anyway.

A light shone at the end of the kitchen. Max sat at the table, eating the meal she had set aside for him and poring over a batch of documents. He must have got back while she’d been showering.

‘Where’s the new nanny? I thought you’d have brought her with you.’ Phoebe paused in the doorway, her bare feet braced on the vinyl flooring. The room was cool, the large windows over the sink reflecting the inky blackness outside.

Max wasn’t quite as cool. His expression reflected both weariness and heat. The latter set her senses on alert, and she pulled an irritated face at herself. Not now, okay? As if she didn’t have enough on her mind.

She couldn’t help thinking that Max was affected too, though, which only made it tougher for her to distance herself from her reactions to him. It amazed her that Max could want her, even on the most basic of levels. Things had changed. She didn’t quite know why, but something told her there would never be any going back to the way they used to be.

What did that leave, though? She certainly wasn’t interested in becoming one of his many fly-by-night involvements. Fortunately, she could control these random reactions to him. Provided she kept her distance, she was under no threat.

‘Thanks for leaving me a meal.’ Max glanced back down at his plate, then up again. ‘I didn’t expect you to go to any trouble.’

‘Believe it or not, I can be quite organised when I try.’ Phoebe relaxed somewhat, confident in her ability to hold her foolish reactions to him at bay. ‘I didn’t actually find it too dramatic to cook enough food for four dinners instead of three, even with such limited resources to choose from.’

It seemed best to try not to dwell on the fact that her skin was tingling simply because Max was near.

She came further into the room, noticing for the first time the clutter of bulging shopping bags at the far end. Max had apparently, at some point during his day-long absence, found time to stock up on grocery supplies. ‘You haven’t answered my question. Do you have a new nanny organised?’

He pushed his plate and the documents aside and gestured for her to join him.

She did. Reluctantly. Nobody liked to be fired, after all, and that was what Max was bound to do to her any moment now.

Up close, Max looked even more tired, and she acknowledged that her presence here hadn’t helped him, much as she had believed it could. Even though she still believed she could assist him a great deal with his sons, it wasn’t going to happen.

Phoebe decided that she would rather bow out of her own accord than have Max push her. Given their propensity towards wanting to kill each other on sight, she supposed it was no surprise that Max didn’t want her here.

The inexplicable heat they seemed to be generating between them was simply another complication to pile on to the rest. Max didn’t like complications. Phoebe didn’t either, really.

Still, something in the region of her heart ached at the thought of leaving. She told herself to ignore it. Just so long as Max had made acceptable arrangements. The boys had to come first, no matter what.

‘I can be out of here any time you want, Max.’ There. She had made it easy for him, and it barely felt like cutting out a piece of herself at all. Phoebe was used to taking care of herself. This time would be no different. ‘I only came to help you because I thought you wanted me and were in a bad way.’

‘I was in a bad way.’ The admission was gruff.

‘Yes, you were in a mess.’ She smiled to let him know she meant no malice by the comment. ‘For what it’s worth, Jake and Josh have had a reasonable day. I did my best to keep them busy.’

‘And cleaned up most of the house while you were at it.’ He shook his head. ‘You didn’t have to—’

‘I know.’ Even so, it had been kind of fun, playing house for a while in something larger than a shoe box. Dangerous, too, though, because playing house was too close to playing happy families. To falling in love with the boys. To wanting Max, and aching for things she could never have.

Argh! Phoebe suppressed the aggravated screech building up inside her. She must need to get out in the sunshine more or something. Build up the happy vibes inside her head and put a stop to these underrated, overdramatised, ridiculous yearnings.

‘Sometimes it’s better for little children to get the feeling that you’re simply going about your business,’ she said, pulling herself back to the conversation with some difficulty, ‘with them tagging along. It takes the pressure off them a bit. Anyway, it was just for the day.’

Now that the time had come to bow out she found it difficult to come up with the right words, but she promised herself she would get there somehow. No way would she allow Max to even suspect that she didn’t want to move on. ‘So, when does the new nanny arrive? Tonight? Is she from Sydney? Travelling out by car? I can be out of your hair in no time.’ Once I check her over and decide she’s okay. ‘You’ll barely notice I’ve been here.’

This seemed to amuse Max, for he glanced at her in a rather comprehensive way and shook his head. ‘You’re a lot of things, Phoebe, but unnoticeable isn’t one of them. Everything about you draws attention, whether you intend it to or not.’

‘I don’t see how that can be true.’ Or at least not in a positive way. Basically, she considered herself to be a mere blob on the greater canvas of life. If she were to be abducted by aliens tomorrow, who would even care? Katherine, she supposed, but that was about it. Max would probably send the aliens a sympathy card.

Max’s rich laugh rang out. ‘Don’t you? What about the way you dress, for starters?’

‘Dress?’ Oh, that. She chose her clothing from second-hand shops mostly, or bought cheap from warehouses when she got the chance. ‘I admit I don’t dress like a business executive, but then—’ she shrugged ‘—I’m not one.’

‘The guitar and the emblem? Those are not attention-getters?’

For a moment she didn’t understand what he was talking about. She certainly wasn’t any kind of musician. Then she glanced down at her T-shirt. Although faded now, it sported a screen print of an electric guitar, with the words Bite Me emblazoned across the front.

‘This thing?’ She shrugged. ‘It was, um, a gift from a band member I knew once. I could hardly refuse to wear it.’

With Max examining the article so thoroughly, she felt very aware of her bareness underneath.

To distract herself, she peered across the kitchen at the groceries and noticed a bag overflowing with bananas. ‘Are you sure you haven’t overdone it on the fruit? I hope half of that doesn’t go to waste.’

Max followed the direction of her gaze. ‘I bought them for the banana-smoothie freak.’

‘What? But I won’t be here.’ Banana smoothies were a long-time passion of hers, a fact that both Max and Katherine knew well. Phoebe stood up and padded across the room to poke the bag with one foot.

Did he mean to give her the bananas as some sort of parting gift? Then a different thought occurred. ‘Oh. Does the new nanny like banana smoothies too?’

‘There is no new nanny.’ Max joined her beside the pile of bags. His voice roughened to a gruff rumble. ‘There’s just you and a heap of bananas. You might as well stay long enough to eat them.’

It wasn’t the warmest invitation-cum-job-affirmation she had ever had. And it was painfully temporary. Despite all this, her heart lifted. She could stay. Help the boys. Enjoy….

Hello. Stop sign, here. No dreaming the impossible, remember?

‘What happened? Did the boys’ reputations scare off all the contenders?’ She didn’t mean that. In fact, she felt Max had greatly exaggerated any behavioural challenges they may have displayed since they’d arrived.

Frankly, they struck her as two very normal, very vigorous little boys who’d recently lost their mother and didn’t quite know what to do with their new surroundings. ‘No, even though they’re a little out of sorts at the moment, I find that hard to believe. You must be looking in the wrong places.’

‘Trust me, I looked. I asked. I phoned around.’

‘For an hour tops this morning, then you disappeared. Are you telling me you spent all day scouring agencies and came home empty-handed?’ Foolishly, a part of her needed to believe that Max had really wanted to keep her on. She slapped that part down hard.

‘I started. I met a few people.’ Frustration filtered into Max’s tone. ‘An old bag with a pursed-up mouth, a woman who was so out of shape she got puffed getting out of her chair. Cranky nannies, stupid ones, disciplinarians in sheep’s clothing.’

He made a chopping motion with his hand. ‘It wasn’t working. None of them felt right. I gave up and spent the afternoon at my office, trying to get some work done and figure out what to do about this problem. Neither of which effort was particularly successful.’

‘I see.’ And Phoebe thought she probably did. In the face of all those problematical nannies and his unsatisfactory time at work, Max had stockpiled on bananas and come back to regroup. To get his plan honed down to razor sharpness before he went out and snaffled not just a good nanny but a nanny par excellence, tailored to his exact requirements.

That made a rather Max kind of sense. ‘You need time to sort things out? You’d like me to hang around until you can do that? A few days, maybe.’ For good or bad, she didn’t even hesitate. ‘I’ll do it.’

For the boys, she added silently, but only in the same way any responsible childcare worker would care about them. It was a belated effort to justify her decision. She was about to say more when a shaft of moonlight outside the window drew her attention to a number of bulky boxes. ‘What’s all that?’

Max followed the direction of her gaze. ‘It’s a climbing frame for the boys. It has to be assembled, but I should be able to knock that out in a couple of hours tomorrow.’

Wow. She hadn’t expected him to think of something like that. ‘Good idea. It’ll give them something to expend their energy on other than kicking in your furniture and screaming the house down.’

He grimaced. ‘That was the idea, and I have to have something to keep me occupied while I work out what to do with them.’

Some force compelled her to tell him, ‘You could be a brilliant father, Max, if you just let yourself—’

‘Don’t.’ He trapped her in an angry gaze. ‘Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, or be.’

Well, she supposed she had asked for that. Acknowledging his answer didn’t make it any more palatable, though. Why couldn’t he just love them, accept them? Instead of trying so hard to keep them at arms’ length?

Was she asking about his boys now, or about herself? The boys, of course! Phoebe had sorted out her own life history long ago and, she might add, none of it had anything to do with Max. Drat it, whatever bee had got in her brain box, she wished it would get back out again.

‘I’ll help you as much as I can.’ That was what mattered most right now. When he turned to face her, she offered a small smile. ‘It’s what I came here for.’

She laughed a little, just to show she didn’t care too much. That she wasn’t still just a little bit worried that getting to play families any longer might cause problems for her later. ‘Until you get a new nanny, that is.’

‘Thank you, Phoebe. I appreciate your willingness to try.’ The words may almost have choked him—she didn’t know—but at least he gave it a go. ‘And it would be a shame to waste the bananas.’

If Max could attempt a joke, the least she could do was be gracious. In the spirit of the moment, she stuck out her hand. ‘To my tenure as temporary nanny, then.’

Max took her hand in his. ‘To getting my sons settled.’

Their opinions on the term settled didn’t exactly line up, but Phoebe nodded anyway, then retrieved her hand from the disturbing contact with his. ‘May I ask you some questions?’

Now might not be the best time, but when would be better? Max was in a reasonably mellow frame of mind, they were trying to get along and the boys weren’t here to eavesdrop on the conversation.

‘What is it that you want to know?’

‘I’d like you to tell me about their mother.’ Did you love her? Was she in love with you? Are you still in love with her? Or was she just like all the others? Can you not even remember what she looked like properly?

Phoebe told herself she wanted to know for the boys’ sakes, but it wasn’t entirely true. She wanted to know how Max had felt about the woman who had mothered his children. And she wanted to know what kind of woman had given birth to Max’s sons. Had nursed them through the baby illnesses and toddling scrapes and bruises.

What Phoebe wouldn’t give for a chance at all of that. After all her careful thoughts, Phoebe was disgusted to realise she was jealous of someone who wasn’t even alive any more. Of someone who had been close to Max once in a way Phoebe would never be.

Are you mad?

She had to be, to even consider wanting that kind of relationship with him. Max didn’t stay with women, she warned herself. Phoebe shouldn’t have asked about the boys’ mother. Shouldn’t have opened up the subject. Except that the boys needed to be able to deal with their feelings. So she explained, ‘If I’m to help Jake and Josh to adjust to the changes taking place in their lives, I need to understand a bit about their mother.’

‘Maryellen was a university lecturer who happened to have an interest in precious gems, particularly in some of the more unique settings such as Saunders Enterprises provides.’ A muscle in Max’s jaw tightened. She got the feeling he didn’t really want to be talking about this but, even so, he held her gaze. ‘I met her at a special display evening of some of our more unique Australian opal designs.’

His comments revealed nothing of what he may have felt towards Maryellen. Was that because he hadn’t cared about her really?

‘I suppose she was gorgeous.’ The words bubbled out before Phoebe could stop them.

Max’s shrug confirmed it. ‘We had a brief affair. She was a career woman to the core. She certainly wasn’t interested in commitment and neither was I. At the end of her visit to Sydney, we parted amicably and I forgot about her until the day her lawyers contacted me, informing me of her death, my paternity and the expectation that I should collect my sons immediately.’

So Maryellen had just been another in the long line of Max’s conquests, but perhaps, if Max had known she was having his children, that might have been different. Oh, Phoebe just wished she could stop worrying at the whole issue!

Max blew out a long breath. ‘The boys were in the care of the nanny Maryellen had used but she was a teenager, relying on her mother to help her until I got there. It was far from an ideal situation.’

Tension radiated from Max’s big body and he clamped his jaw down hard. ‘Discovering I was a father came as a shock, but it shocked me more that Maryellen never contacted me. I thought she knew me well enough…’

Apparently Max had thought they’d had some kind of connection. ‘Does this mean you’re secure in terms of custody?’ Phoebe wanted to know.

‘Yes. Maryellen had no other family and I was named as sole guardian and also noted on their birth certificates as their father. There’s no doubt that they’re my responsibility.’

What a sad way to put it. What an even sadder thing it was that if Maryellen hadn’t died Max might very likely never have known he had sons. ‘I’m sorry, Max.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ His expression became fierce for a moment before he smoothed it back into bland indifference. ‘All that counts now is that I do my best for them.’

How did he reconcile that with wanting to dump them off on to a nanny? ‘Just one other thing. I’m sorry to ask, but how did Maryellen die?’

‘An accident at an archaeological site. The boys weren’t with her at the time.’

Phoebe didn’t want to think about it any more. Her emotions had jumped back and forth quite enough for one day. ‘I’ll say goodnight, Max. It’s getting late and I’m sure the boys will be up with the kookaburras in the morning.’

‘Thank you, Phoebe.’ Max caught her arm as she moved to pass him, staying her. ‘For agreeing to remain here for now.’

A lot went unsaid in those few words. Their antagonism and attraction. The fact that it wouldn’t be easy. That they were both on uncharted ground in this.

‘You’re welcome.’ She looked up at him, thinking that would be the end of it. But something in his gaze changed and he bent his head, probably to drop a kiss on her cheek.

Okay. It would be a novel experience, Max being nice, but she would do her best not to keel over with shock. Phoebe braced to receive the salute, then felt her breath hitch as his lips met not her cheek, but her mouth. The feelings that bombarded her then, stunned her to her toes.

All she could think, was, Oh, my goodness, oh, my goodness, oh-my-goodness! She was going into shock, or cardiac arrest or something. Her breath stuttered, a shiver started at the base of her neck and quickly suffused her.

Max’s hands gripped her shoulders, holding her still while his mouth moulded to hers in slow, steady exploration. No wonder women got involved with him, even though he was a love ’em and leave ’em type. The man’s kisses were dynamite.

Phoebe melted into him, into the kiss. Like a big old blob of butter in a pan. Why, oh why, had he done it? Why did he continue it, even now as her bones melted?

It was Max, not Mountain Gem or Katherine or any of the rest of it, that gave her that feeling of coming home. The thought came from nowhere. She denied it instantly. It couldn’t be that. This was a potent kiss, from an experienced man, that was all.

And oh, boy, it really was all that. She lost her concentration in the heat of it. Sensations bombarded her from all sides. The touch of those warm, firm lips, pressed so intimately against her own. The scrape of his jaw against her softer skin.

His fingers moved to her chin, angling it as he kissed her, and she wanted to be angled and kissed more and still more.

For a moment insanity took her, and she kissed him back with all her worth. Their bodies pressed together and his arms crushed her close. Heat roared through her, burning her up until she was almost convinced she could smell scorched butter. But sense and reason came back eventually, and with them an all-important question. Two, actually.

What was she doing?

And with Max, of all people?

‘No.’ She wrenched away on a gasp, horrified by her own complicity and thoroughly uneasy with Max’s behaviour. Was he lost in thoughts of Maryellen? Had that made him kiss Phoebe? A sort of misplaced guilt or resentment or something?

All Phoebe knew was that she had almost become crazy for a moment there. Had almost believed that there was something about Max that she had to have to survive. Madness. Sheer idiotic lunacy. It was just as well she had come back to her senses before things went any further.

Max appeared as stunned as her, his face etched in taut lines as he stared at her, breathing hard. ‘That was—’ He broke off, raked both hands through his hair as though all the demons of hell had come to roost on him at once.

Then he forcibly rearranged his facial muscles. Rolled his shoulders. Sucked in a deep breath and blew it out again. ‘So you’ll be helping out as the nanny until I can get a replacement. I’ll payroll you at the same rate I offered the others.’

He named a figure.

Phoebe nodded without taking it in. Back to business was good, if only she could get even a single part of her to change to the appropriate channel, instead of getting stuck on FM One-Oh-Kiss!

‘Good.’ Max inclined his head and took a step backwards, then another. ‘Great. That’s settled then. That’s all…settled.’

‘Settled,’ Phoebe parroted and, for good measure, nodded just as Max had done. She was still in shock, her senses reeling, some unhelpful part of her suggesting that Max’s kiss was something she might like to repeat. Right now, even. ‘It’s business, right?’

‘Yes.’ Max pushed his hands into his pockets and studied the painting on the wall to her left. ‘That’s right.’ His gaze tracked over her and, once she was thoroughly singed, moved away again. ‘It’s business.’

Good. They could forget this had ever happened. That was best. Because clearly Phoebe couldn’t afford to be attracted to Max. Not when it resulted in this kind of impact on her.

She would keep right out of his path in future, metaphorically speaking. Keep it businesslike. Avoid all thoughts of intimacy. And, while she was at it, she would avoid all comparisons between Max, his sons and herself and any kind of happy families.

Max wanted to payroll a nanny. For now, Phoebe was that person. She would think of the job as clocking in, clocking out. A business arrangement, no feelings involved. She could do that. Right? ‘That’s all organised, then.’ She tried for some sort of distant nonchalance, failed utterly and decided to cut and run instead. ‘Uh, I’ll see you around,’ she said, and fled.