Читать книгу Marrying The Virgin Nanny / The Nanny And Me - Teresa Southwick - Страница 12

“I don’t believe you’d give me a million dollars to marry you,” Maggie said.

“You don’t know me very well.” He stared her down. “Believe it.”

When he calculated a nine-month pregnancy as opposed to raising the child for an indefinite length of time, Jason figured it was a bargain. He’d paid Catherine as much just to bring Brady into the world and she’d been giddy at the number of zeros on the bonus check simply for staying out of their lives.

Not that he wanted that greedy, grasping, self-centered woman anywhere near his son, but when he’d made the deal, he hadn’t counted on the complications of caring for and bringing up a child.

Maggie’s protective instincts had kicked in before she even saw Brady. She’d refused to talk until the baby was comforted and content. After Brady’s first nannies, her presence these last few weeks had been like a cooling weather system from the north taking the heat off a desert summer.

Not until Maggie had walked into his life had he understood what a difference the right woman could make, in terms of child rearing. It would be stupid to let her get away, and he hadn’t taken the family company to a whole new level of success by being stupid.

Maggie stared at him as if he had two heads. “I don’t know whether to laugh or be afraid.”

“Why?”

“Why?” she repeated, her voice rising. “You just offered me a large sum of money to marry you. It’s like a scenario for an outrageous reality show. Or Punk’d.” She looked up and around the room’s ceiling. “Do you have cameras on me right now? Is this going on TV?”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Right back at you.”

“On the contrary,” he said, “this is the least silly idea I’ve ever had. It makes complete sense.”

“Not to me.” She folded her arms over her chest, drawing his attention there.

The only part of this idea that was silly had to do with his level of attraction. Instead of decreasing with time as he’d thought, the longer she stayed, the more appealing things he noticed about her—the subtle curves of her body that jeans only accentuated. Her high, firm breasts outlined by sweaters, blouses and T-shirts. His escalating curiosity about how her full lips would taste, how they’d feel against his own.

This was not a good time to let all that considerable appeal distract him from negotiating with her.

“Nothing about this makes sense,” she said.

“Can you be more specific?”

“In this day and age men don’t pay women to marry them.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He held up three fingers. “Three words. Anna Nicole Smith.”

“Oh, please. Completely different situation. The man was ninety-something and she was after his money.”

“How do you know he wasn’t looking for someone to nurture his children?”

“If I remember right, his son was in his fifties or sixties. The guy could take care of himself. By any stretch of the imagination she was a gold digger.”

“Maybe he was interested in companionship and was willing to pay for it. Strictly a business deal. Not unlike what I’ve proposed.”

“How do you know I’m not a gold digger?”

The idea that she could be manipulative and calculating made him smile. “The definition of a gold digger is someone who uses her feminine wiles for gifts or monetary gain. You haven’t done that. And I will have my attorney draw up a pre-nuptial agreement to protect me from any possible challenge to my financial assets. It would just be a precaution. Something a smart man does.”

“At this particular moment, I have some serious doubts about your intelligence level. A smart man wouldn’t propose this in the first place.”

“He would to do right by his son. What kind of father would I be if I didn’t secure the best possible future for Brady?”

“You’d sacrifice your own future for his?”

That presupposed he had a romantic future. He didn’t. No woman could get close because he wouldn’t let them. “I’m not sacrificing anything, Maggie.”

“Because you love him.”

It wasn’t a question, and that pleased him. “Yes.”

“A father should love his son enough to do anything for him, but that doesn’t mean you should do anything for him.”

He took a step closer, near enough to reach out and touch her. Something he badly wanted to do again after holding her in his arms. In the mirror behind her he could see her back, the trim, ramrod straight posture. Or it could be tension. This was a big step. It should give him pause, but the more he thought about it, the more right it felt.

“Tell me something,” he said. “Do you need the money? Is there something you could do with it?”

She caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. “Doesn’t everyone need cash?”

He looked at her and smiled. “I don’t.”

“Okay.” She slid her fingers into the pockets of her jeans. “But the average person could use a large sum of money. If not, Las Vegas would just be a tiny town in the desert. It’s built on dreams of winning big.”

“And I’m offering you an opportunity to do that. It’s not a dream and there’s no luck involved. All you have to do is say the word. And you didn’t answer my question. Is there something you could use money for?”

“Yes.” She looked down and her silky hair framed her face, teased her cheeks.

His heart lurched and his hands tingled with the urge to tunnel his fingers in all that shiny hair and cup her face. “Tell me what it is.”

She met his gaze. “The Good Shepherd Home is in a bad way. I told you about the building being in disrepair. Sister Margaret and Sister Mary have done everything, talked to everyone they can think of. So far the money isn’t pouring in. And I don’t think bake sales and car washes will make a dent in what they need.”

“I’ve just offered you the perfect solution.”

The conflict raging within her shadowed her eyes. “It’s not perfect.”

“Nothing ever is. But we both get what we want.” He took her hands. It seemed safe enough until he felt her doubts in the trembling and the softness of her skin. But he hung on and squeezed gently, reassuringly. “You’re afraid of getting emotionally attached, then losing your position as nanny. I need someone I trust with my son. If you marry me, I get what I want and you’ll have a guaranteed place in my household. Another plus is the money to bail out Good Shepherd. Call it a sign-on bonus.”

“If it closes, the kids will lose their home. And each other. Some of them are the only family they’ve got.”

Like her. He’d spent a lot of years resenting the revolving door of women through his father’s life and the fact that his mother walked out when he was barely old enough to remember her. But he never forgot the grief and anguish of wondering what he’d done to drive her away. Still, he’d never had to worry about a roof over his head or where he was going to live. Or who would take care of him because his father had secured the best help money could buy.

“You have the power to make a difference, Maggie. All you have to do is say yes.”

Her gaze jumped to his. “Why marriage, Jason? What if I just agree to stay?”

“I want a guarantee, too. Assurance that you will stay. That no one will hire you away.” And another thought struck him, this one more disturbing. “What if you find Mr. Right? What if some guy swoops in, sweeps you off your feet and marries you himself? I need stability for my son, and marriage does that.”

Jason stared at her hands, still in his. With his thumb, he brushed her left ring finger picturing another man putting an engagement ring there, the symbol of his promise to keep her forever. The idea didn’t set well.

The same instincts that made him a successful businessman should have warned him to go slowly with this proposal. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that luxury. He needed to seal this deal now, while she was off balance. Before she had a chance to sleep on it and say no in the morning. If that happened, she’d walk out on her own terms. And he needed her to stay on his.

“I have to have your answer, Maggie. What’s it going to be? Will you marry me?”

She pulled her hands from his and folded her arms over her chest. “Jason, I just don’t—”

“As soon as you say yes, I’ll write a check to Good Shepherd with a lot of zeros on it.”

“You could stop payment,” she pointed out.

Clearly he wasn’t the only one with trust issues. “If it will make you feel better, I’ll set up an account. You can have an independent attorney look over the paperwork to make sure there’s nothing funny going on. I’ll jump through hoops if you want, but I need an answer now. Yes or no, Maggie?”

“It does feel a lot like God putting me in the right place at the right time,” she hedged.

“I’d call it a sign,” he agreed. “Are you in?”

Her beautiful eyes were full of doubt but she finally said the word he wanted to hear. “Yes.”

He held out his hand and hers was shaking when she settled it into his palm, signifying the agreement.

“Is everything ready to sign?” Jason looked across the desk at his attorney.

Blake Decker of Decker and Associates had handled his father’s third and fourth divorces, and was currently involved in financial negotiations for dissolution of property with the most recent, soon-to-be ex-wife.

“Of course it’s all ready. But a lawyer’s job is also to advise. They don’t call me counselor for nothing. I need to ask if you know what you’re doing.” The guy was in his thirties, tall, black-haired and physically fit. What women today call a hottie. And one of the city’s most notoriously marriage-phobic bachelors. “What are you thinking, man?”

“I’m marrying Maggie Shepherd. What’s your point?”

Blake leaned forward in his chair. “You’re making a legal commitment to the nanny. It’s a hell of a step to take for continuity in child care.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not taking it.” Jason knew exactly what he was doing. “But you’re entitled to your opinion.”

“My opinion is that marriage is the worst possible risk. I’ve never seen one work out.”

“With good reason. You’re a divorce attorney.”

“And I’m making an unbelievable amount of money doing what I do, which goes to what I just said. Getting married is a straight shot to legal, financial and emotional complications that you don’t need. Trust me. I’ve been through it.”

“That’s because you, along with most of the rest of the population, go into marriage with starry eyes and unrealistic expectations.”

“And you’re not?”

“Strictly business. I need someone to care for Brady. Maggie is exceptionally good at it. She’s already exceeded my expectations, and your job is to safeguard the financial part. Considering the fact that you negotiate so many breakups, I figured you were the perfect guy to draft a loophole-free prenup.”

“If you insist on going through with this, she won’t be able to touch your assets when it blows up in your face.”

“That’s not going to happen. Maggie isn’t like that.”

“That’s what all starry-eyed grooms say,” Blake pointed out.

“I’ve never had stars in my eyes.” Just the opposite. Jason figured he was born a realist and life reinforced his basic nature.

“What about emotional fallout?”

“Not a problem. We’re not in love.” He liked and respected Maggie. She was smart, funny and pretty in a pure, innocent way that was incredibly appealing. But love? Jason knew better than to go there. “We both have good reasons that don’t include a relationship. All the cards are on the table.”

“So I can’t talk you out of it?”

“No.”

“Don’t say I didn’t try.” Blake shook his head and leveled a “poor bastard” look at him, then opened the file. “I have the prenuptial agreement. And the paperwork is drawn up for a million-dollar trust. I’ll be the administrator for the funds that go to the Good Shepherd Home for Children.”

“Good.”

“Then we’re ready to get all the pertinent signatures.” Blake pushed the intercom button and asked the receptionist to send Maggie in.

Jason had the strangest sensation of wanting to leave before any papers were signed, but he was his father’s son, a witness over the years to the worst in relationship fallout that had shaped the man he was today. No way he’d take this step without safety measures in place because marriage was like sex with a condom—sometimes it breaks. He’d seen that happen, too, and Brady was the result.

But there was something inherently sweet and unspoiled about Maggie that he didn’t want tainted or shattered. Seeing the lawyer had been all about protecting his son and himself. And now he couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to protect Maggie, too, from all the sordid and sleazy aspects of why they were here.

Still, she needed money. No matter how innocent she seemed, it was always good to have safeguards in place.

Maggie and Jason sat in the back of his town car with the baby strapped in between them sound asleep. His driver was taking them to the courthouse to get married.

Married.

Margaret Mary Shepherd, abandoned baby and almost a nun, was going to marry one of Las Vegas’s wealthiest and most eligible bachelors. It was absolutely and completely surreal. Long ago she’d rigidly and deliberately put any thoughts of a wedding day out of her mind. But when rogue dreams had managed to leak through, there had always been sunshine.

Not today on her actual wedding day. It was cloudy. The forecasters were predicting rain. In the desert. It never rained in the desert. Actually, it did, but when that happened flash floods were the result.

She swallowed any misgivings and reminded herself that there was a greater good here. The home was going to get the repairs so desperately needed, and she was going to be able to stay with the baby boy she’d fallen head over heels for.

And his father?

Jason was staring out the window at the buildings going by. His profile could have been carved from any one of the rocky mountains surrounding the Vegas valley. He hadn’t said anything since leaving Blake Decker’s office. His lawyer was a very handsome man—in her opinion not as good-looking as Jason, but they said beauty was in the eye of the beholder. If that was true, it pointed to her having a crush on her soon-to-be husband. She supposed that was better than not being able to stand him.

As far as the pros and cons in her decision to accept his proposal, all the checkmarks stacked up on the positive side. In a town with huge hotels and resorts that were built on losses, she was getting a legal commitment that would make her a winner. She couldn’t get tossed out in the cold. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous.

“Jason?”

He turned his head, his glance dropping on the baby first. His eyes softened and a heartbreakingly tender smile lessened the craggy angles of his face. “Hmm?”

“I thought Mr. Decker was very nice.” She’d felt the need to talk, but that was a lame thing to say. There was still time for him to back out. None of that paperwork meant a thing if there were no vows.

“Blake? Nice?” He met her gaze. “I’m not sure he’d think that was a compliment.”

“Why?”

“Most attorneys wouldn’t consider that adjective in keeping with their job description. And Blake Decker feels that way more than most.”

“But it’s just a job. I’m sure he’s a very nice person.”

Staring at her, he shook his head slightly. “Do you really believe that?”

“Of course.” She clasped her hands together. “I know lawyers are called all kinds of unflattering names. Shark. Snake. Weasel.”

“You forgot barracuda.”

“That, too. But it doesn’t define his true nature. It’s his job to know the law and advise the rest of us who don’t.”

A guilty look flashed into his eyes, then disappeared. Working with kids at the home she’d seen the expression a lot and was pretty good at detecting it. Although what he had to feel uncomfortable about she couldn’t say.

“Here we are,” he said as the car slowed to a stop. Was that relief in his voice?

Jason opened the door as she unhooked the baby’s car seat. He reached back inside for the handle and lifted Brady out without waking him.

Following him up the concrete steps outside the Clark County Courthouse, her heart started to race, and it wasn’t about hurrying up steps or going through the metal detectors. The official atmosphere was crystallizing. It was one thing to discuss marriage and another thing to walk into the halls of justice to speak legally binding vows.

Their footsteps echoed on the marble floor as they made their way to the elevator that took them to the clerk’s office. He’d explained this to her. In Nevada, no blood test was required, but both parties wishing to marry had to appear before the county clerk for a marriage license. After proper identification was verified, a fee of fifty-five dollars in cash was paid and a certificate allowing them to marry exchanged. Her stomach lurched, not unlike the way it reacted in the elevator.

But everything went as he’d said it would. Then she followed Jason down the hall and into a room with generic plastic chairs lined up in the middle. Jason set the still-sleeping baby down on the floor by the first row. She’d always thought that if she married, it would happen in church. She’d have been wrong. Her wedding was happening in the same building where criminals went on trial and justice was meted out. It was best not to dwell on that.

Maggie sat and looked at the other couples waiting to get married. One girl who hardly looked old enough to be here wore a strapless, long white gown. Her husband-to-be didn’t look like he shaved yet. A middle-aged woman, with the portly man of her dreams, was dressed in a black-and-white suit. Maggie’s beige dress with matching jacket couldn’t have been more unremarkable. This wasn’t an especially good time to realize she’d wanted her wedding day to be remarkable.

Strapless-wedding-dress girl leaned across the chair separating them and smiled. “Your baby is so precious.”

Maggie started to explain that he wasn’t hers, then decided not to go there. “Yes, he is. Thank you.”

“I’m going to have a baby,” she confided.

“Congratulations,” Maggie said.

“Thanks.” She looked at Jason who was speaking with the clerk. “He’s pretty cute, too.”

Maggie studied the dashing figure he cut in his conservative navy suit, dark hair stylishly cut and her heart pitched and rolled. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“You guys are an awesome family.”

Did that make her “awesome” by association? Before she could answer that question, Mr. Awesome returned. “We’re all set,” he said, picking up the car seat.

Maggie looked around at the couples who had been there when they walked in. “All these people are ahead of us.”

“Blake pulled some strings. A justice of the peace he knows pretty well managed to get us in right away.”

“Don’t you get thrown out of amusement parks for taking cuts in line?”

He laughed. “I told you nice wasn’t exactly the best adjective for my attorney.”

“Still, it feels wrong. Shouldn’t we wait our turn?”

One dark eyebrow lifted. “Are you stalling, Maggie? Maybe you’re having second thoughts?”

Second. Third. Fourth. But God had given her the means to a miracle, and now she decided it best not to think at all. “I gave my word.”

He nodded. “Then let’s do this.”

She sighed once, then squared her shoulders and followed him through a door. The room was an office, the man before them an officer of the court.

“Fred Knox,” he said, shaking hands with Jason. Then he glanced at the baby. “Nice-looking fella.”

“Thanks.” Jason’s voice was warm with pride.

“You’re here to make this family official.”

Jason met her gaze. “That’s the idea.”

“Let’s do it, then.” He opened a book and settled their marriage license on it. “Do you Jason Hunter Garrett take Margaret Mary Shepherd to be your wife for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health?”

“I do.”

When he repeated the words to her, Maggie said, “I do.”

“Do you have rings to exchange?”

Jason reached into his jacket pocket and produced a jeweler’s black-velvet box with two gold bands inside and handed them over. He’d thought of everything.

The man said, “These rings signify that love is enduring, without beginning or end.”

And sometimes it’s nonexistent because this marriage wasn’t about love. In spite of her sound logic and self-reassurances, the thought made her sad.

Jason slipped the band on her left ring finger and it fit perfectly. His large hand dwarfed hers as she did the same, using a little effort to slide the circle of gold over his knuckle.

“With the authority vested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Garrett. You may kiss your bride.”

Maggie’s eyes widened as her gaze shot to Jason’s. She was also aware that most business deals ended with a handshake, not a kiss. Her heart was pounding, but he seemed cool and in control. His hands on her arms were strong as he drew her against him. Then he lowered his lips to hers and her eyes drifted shut. The touch of his mouth was warm and soft. His hands slid down her arms and left heat in their wake. Her heart fluttered, quick and hard. Then he pulled away and she wasn’t ready for it to be over.

“That’s it then,” he said softly.

Was that it? She looked at him and the intensity in his eyes made her shiver with a sort of excitement that was as new and different as her marital state. Before she had a chance to guess at what he was feeling, Jason glanced at his watch.

“It’s getting late. We have to go.”

After congratulations and goodbyes, he took the car seat and placed his hand at the small of her back to guide her outside and to the waiting car. When they were settled inside, he gave the driver instructions to drop him at his office and take Maggie and the baby home.

“You’re going to work?” she asked.

“I’m late for a meeting,” he explained.

Of course he was. This was just another day at the office to him. What had she expected?

That was the thing. Until she’d taken each step and realized otherwise, she hadn’t been aware of having expectations. Getting married felt like a big deal to her, but to him it was simply the first business deal of the day.

She’d never expected to be sad and disappointed on her wedding day.