Читать книгу A Nanny Under the Mistletoe - Raye Morgan - Страница 9

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?