Читать книгу Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me: Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me - Teresa Southwick, Teresa Southwick - Страница 12

It was his wedding day.

“Night,” Jason said to himself, something tightening inside him.

He tossed back the remainder of the Rémy Martin in his glass as he glanced around his study, noting that everything was the same. The lie echoed through him and collided with the heat that still lingered from kissing Maggie after their vows. The sensation was a lot like what happened when cold and hot air smashed together. Turbulence. Tornado.

All day he’d tried to get her off his mind. Some of it was about the bruised look in her eyes when his driver had left him at the office and Maggie realized her wedding day would be nothing out of the ordinary.

The devil of it was that there’d been nothing pressing workwise and he could have taken her someplace special for lunch. He hadn’t because it was important to set a tone for the marriage. They were husband and wife in name only per their deal. What had seemed like a good idea at the time didn’t look as rosy from this side of the marriage license.

Like every other night since she’d been his nanny, Maggie was bathing the baby and he was working in the study. He wanted to be with them but was keeping to his protocol of establishing a pattern. It seemed important until tension and heat ground through him.

He shot to his feet, grabbed his empty glass and went to the sideboard where he kept the cognac. After pouring another shot, he drank it down, glad for the burn in his throat and the scorching all the way to his gut. For that few seconds the scalding was all he could think about. When it subsided, there was still a vision of Maggie and the innocently seductive way she’d slid her tongue over her soft lips after he’d kissed her.

The phone rang and Jason was grateful for the distraction. “Yes?” he said into the receiver.

“Mr. Garrett, it’s Peter Sexton.”

The doorman. “What is it, Peter?”

“Sir, a Mr. Hunter Garrett is here to see you.”

His father. “Send him up, Peter.”

“Right away, sir.”

The old man usually stopped by Garrett Industries corporate offices if he had something to say. This must be important. Jason had a pretty good idea what it was about.

When the bell rang, he opened the door. “Hi, Dad.”

“Jason.”

Hunter marched right in. “I need to talk to you.”

“I figured.” He shut the door. “Let’s go in my study.”

Jason led the way down the hall and held out a hand for his father to take one of the chairs in front of the desk. It occurred to him for the first time that the pretentious leather and gold buttons suited his father much better than his nanny. There was a resemblance between Hunter and himself, but he’d gotten his dark eyes and hair from the maternal DNA, not that he remembered much about the woman who’d birthed him. The few pictures he’d managed to find confirmed it.

The man who’d sired him was often called distinguished and that was fair. He was tall, and a personal trainer hammered him into fitness. Silver streaked his brown hair and his blue eyes, never brimming with warmth, were glacial at the moment.

“Would you care for a drink?” Jason asked him.

“Yes.”

He poured another and set it down in front of his father before taking a chair on the other side of the desk. “How are you, Dad? How’s Tracy?” Wife-to-be number five.

“Fine.” The older man downed the contents of his glass, then leaned forward. “I didn’t come to update you on me or my fiancée.”

“Then why did you come?”

“What’s going on, Jason?”

“Care to be more specific?”

“Don’t be coy.” For the first time Hunter’s eyes were warm. Must have a lot to do with the glare. “There was a disturbing rumor on the news about the president of Garrett Industries at the Clark County Courthouse with an unidentified woman.”

“I see.” If his thoughts hadn’t been so preoccupied with Maggie, he’d have seen this coming. Marriage licenses were public record and he didn’t have an especially low profile. Someone was bound to notice. Call him perverse, but he was going to make his father work for this. He stared down the old man without saying more.

“I put in a call to Blake Decker.”

“Oh?” What did that say about father-son communication that he called the attorney for information? “What did he say?”

“Nothing. He cited attorney-client privilege. That means he’s your lawyer. Since when, Jason?”

“Today.” Technically he’d had representation since making the call to draw up all the papers. But they’d been signed today. And he’d had his five-hundred-dollar-an-hour lecture on the potholes and pitfalls of ball-and-chain lane.

“Who’s the woman?”

“Since I didn’t see the news, I can’t be sure who you’re referring to.”

Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “The one at the courthouse. Who is she?”

“Her name is Margaret Mary Shepherd.” Garrett, he added to himself.

“What is she to you?”

That was actually a very good question and something he’d been trying to figure out, what with the lopsided amount of time he’d been thinking about her. But he’d throw his dad a bone here. “She’s Brady’s nanny.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re fooling around with the nanny.”

“All right. I won’t tell you.”

Silver eyebrows drew together as he scowled. “Are you aware that the price of stock can rise and fall with even a hint of scandal? Hanky panky with your nanny is a very good way to get your name in the newspapers for all the wrong reasons.”

His father should know. Marital escapades were his stock in trade. “Look, Dad, I’min charge of the company now. You’re chairman of the board of directors of Garrett Industries.”

“I’m also your father.”

“Yeah.” By the tone he was assuming the old man felt the family connection gave him free rein over his life. “What’s your point?”

“In this news item there was mention of a marriage license. So just why were you at the courthouse with her?”

“I married Maggie, Dad.”

The old man wasn’t often speechless and historically it didn’t last long. “You’re married? Legally?”

“Yes.”

“At least you had the good sense to consult Blake.”

“What? No congratulations?” Jason asked.

Without comment his father went on, “Did she sign a prenup?”

“She did.” The rest of their terms were none of the old man’s business.

“Good. If you made an honest woman of her there’s no impropriety. No lawsuits for harassment.”

“For what it’s worth, the confidentiality agreement she originally signed is legally enforceable if breached. And The Nanny Network does thorough and extensive background checks on its employees.”

“What is her background?”

Jason remembered Maggie’s flare of temper when she assumed he was judging her for being abandoned at Good Shepherd. He decided to keep that part to himself and go with the later years. “Maggie was in the convent.”

“She’s a nun?” Hunter stared at him, again speechless.

“Not quite. She didn’t take final vows.” Jason finished the cognac in his glass.

The wheels were turning in Hunter’s head and a crafty look slid into his eyes. “So she played hard to get.” He nodded knowingly. “Marriage will put to rest any hint of impropriety while you fool around with her.”

Anger knotted in Jason’s gut. Fool around with Maggie? He wished he could say the thought never entered his mind, but since kissing her that’s pretty much all he had thought about. And none of his thoughts were up for discussion, with his father or anyone else.

“Maggie isn’t the kind of woman you fool around with, Dad.”

“Maybe. But in my experience every woman has an agenda.” Hunter nodded thoughtfully as he mulled that over. “Blake Decker is very good at his job, so even if she does, she can’t take a chunk out of you financially in the divorce. Which is all you have to worry about.” He smiled for the first time. “At least you’re thinking with your head, along with other parts of your anatomy.”

By association and genetics Jason felt slimy. He might think about it, but acting on impulse wasn’t going to happen. He’d safeguarded his son’s care and used Maggie to do it. No way would he compromise her further.

“Almost a nun.” Hunter put his empty glass on the desk and stood. “I can understand the novelty. She’s not your usual type.”

“Yeah.” And that worked both ways. He wasn’t her type, either, not nearly good enough.

“Do yourself a favor, Jason.” His father pointed a warning finger at him. “Don’t make the mistake of falling in love.”

Preaching to the choir, Jason thought. “Not a problem, Dad.”

A sound in the doorway drew his attention and he saw Maggie standing there with the baby in her arms.

“You must be Maggie.” Hunter studied her, then nodded his approval. “I’m Hunter Garrett.”

“Jason’s father.” Then she looked at the baby who started to fuss. “And Brady’s grandfather.”

“Yes.” He looked at Jason with a gleam in his eyes. “It’s time for me to go. I’ll leave you two alone.”

He left with the same abruptness as his arrival. No congratulations or welcome to the family. No apology for dropping by on their wedding night, Jason thought darkly.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Maggie said, staring at the closed front door. “Apparently he didn’t come to see his grandson.”

“That’s Dad.” A walking, talking cautionary role model. And his only family besides Brady.

“I brought the baby to spend time with you before he goes to bed.”

“Thanks.”

She settled the boy in his arms. “If he needs me, I’ll be in my room.”

It didn’t escape his notice that she’d said if the baby needed anything. That specifically excluded Jason, which started a burning deep inside him. Why did the need for something crank up exponentially when you knew it was off-limits? He wanted her. As of this morning he had the right to have her in his bed. As his father had so indelicately put it—he could fool around with her and not worry about impropriety.

But he didn’t dare touch her.

As she backed away, he noticed the same bruised look he’d seen a few minutes ago and knew she’d heard the last part of his conversation. The part where he acknowledged that he locked her into a legal relationship, confirmed that she wasn’t his type and was adamant that he’d never have feelings for her. But why should it bother her? She was getting what she wanted out of the deal.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d caged a butterfly. He’d never felt more like his father’s son than he did now and he didn’t like it one bit.

When Jason’s driver dropped Maggie off in front of the home she saw Sister Margaret out front, pulling her black sweater tight against the wind. There was a truckload of—well, trucks—scattered on the property and along the street nearby. Pallets of roofing tiles and lumber waited on the cement driveway.

Maggie’s footsteps crunched on the ground and the tall nun turned. Instantly a welcoming smile creased her worn face.

“Hi, Sister,” she said with a wave.

“Maggie!” The nun opened her arms and gave her a big hug. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

The fib was automatic, more like being economical with the truth. Mostly she was fine. Her body was functioning well, maybe a bit too well, especially when thoughts of Jason Garrett crept in and made her skin flush and her heart race. It had been more than a week since he’d kissed her at their wedding and the memory of his mouth on hers made her want more of the same. The feel of his chest pressed against her breasts made her hot and tingly all over, so her body was firing on all cylinders.

But her spirit? Not so fine. After hearing Jason tell his father that loving her was not part of his plan, her spirit had pretty much imploded. Although that information was not something she’d burden Sister Margaret with.

“How are you, Sister?”

“Excellent.” She turned back to watch the workmen tearing off the rundown roof. “We’re getting this old building in shape and the state granted us an extension for the work. The children have a home and all’s right with the world.”

“I’m glad.”

Sister looked down at her. “Without the generous donation from your Mr. Garrett none of this would be possible.”

Maggie opened her mouth to say he wasn’t hers, but decided more truthful economy was indicated. As far as the state of Nevada was concerned, he was hers. Legally her husband. At his luxurious penthouse, she would never be his wife, only the nanny. As guilty as it made her feel to withhold facts, Sister Margaret did not need to know she’d married Jason for his donation. And he’d married her to ensure her loyalty to his child.

She didn’t want to see the disappointment in Sister’s eyes when she confessed to marrying the man for his money, no matter how well intentioned she’d been.

“And there’s more,” Sister continued.

Maggie wasn’t sure her guilty conscience could handle more. She pulled her Windbreaker around her as a gust of cold blasted her. With clouds covering the sun, it was very chilly. Or maybe that was just the freeze in her heart.

“What else did Jason do?” she asked.

“He took care of getting bids on the renovations. I spoke with him myself and—”

“You talked to Jason?” Oh, good Lord. Did he say anything about their arrangement?

Sister nodded. “He’s quite a charming man. Very nice phone voice.”

He was even nicer to look at, Maggie thought, but kept the information to herself. And she knew all about that whiskey-and-chocolate voice. Somehow he’d used it to talk her into this arrangement. But if she was being honest, it had taken precious little effort on his part to convince her this arrangement would work.

“Jason is many things positive,” she agreed.

“After helping us out with the donation I didn’t want to take up his time with those details, but he insisted. He assured me that in his business dealings through Garrett Industries he has many contacts and finding the right company to do the work for us would be easier for him.”

“He’s built some pretty spectacular resorts here in Las Vegas.”

“Does he talk about that?”

“We mostly talk about the baby.” His baby, Maggie silently added. But every day Brady felt more like hers and she let herself go there. Because of the marriage, she wasn’t going to lose him. “I’ve read about his work in the Review Journal. I read aloud to the baby.” She shrugged. “It’s never too early to start reading to a child.”

“I can’t argue with that. And speaking of arguing, when I tried to do that with Mr. Garrett, he asked whether or not I wanted to get the best quality construction for a rock-bottom price.” Sister laughed. “Only an idiot would have said no to that.”

“And you’re one smart cookie, Sister,” Maggie said.

“Before I knew it, the roofing company called and scheduled the job, and here they are. Next up are renovations to the plumbing. Also thanks to your Mr. Garrett. A crew will be available when this part of the project is complete. Which shouldn’t be more than a week.” She looked up at the threatening sky. “And with help from the good Lord, we will not get rain until after our brand-new roof is in place. Gus said that—”

“Gus?”

“The man in charge,” Sister explained. “He said the job will take several days. Demolition—that’s taking off the old roof—will be the most time-consuming part. Because of the weather they’ll put plastic over it. But I’m thinking we might want to move the children in those upstairs rooms just to be safe.”

“Okay. I’m here to help however you need me,” Maggie assured her.

Sister draped an arm around her shoulders. “You’re a blessing from God.”

That was something Sister had said as far back as Maggie could remember, but now it felt different. She was glad that she’d been in the right place at the right time to make God’s plan happen for this very special home. But she knew, as surely as she knew the thermometer would hit triple digits in July, that if Sister was aware of the facts behind this donation, she would not consider it a blessing. And that’s why she could never find out.

Maggie would do anything to keep the smile on this woman’s face. Including a lie of omission.

“We also have to keep the children inside and away from the workmen for their own safety.”

“I understand.”

“Sister Mary and another volunteer took a group of older kids to the movies. We received some free passes and the timing couldn’t have been better. The little ones will be easier to look after inside.”

“Okay.” Maggie linked her arm through Sister’s as they walked toward the house. “We’ll keep them busy.”

“You can read aloud from the newspaper,” Sister teased.

“I promise you they’ll love it,” Maggie said.

“I’m sure they will. Sweetie, you could read the phone book and have them eating out of your hand. You’ve always had a way with the little ones.” On the covered porch Sister Margaret stopped and took in the sight of the workmen. “It’s so important to give them a positive start in life.”

“I absolutely agree.” Wasn’t she doing that with Brady? She was grateful for the chance to give him all the tender, loving care he needed for a positive start in his little life.

“I want to do more, Maggie.” Sister looked down at her. “This donation is so extraordinarily generous. With Mr. Garrett’s help it will go further than just the repairs. There will be money left over for unexpected expenses. Or maybe a scholarship for someone who might not otherwise be able to go to college.”

“That’s wonderful, Sister.” She’d struggled with money while getting her education. It would be fantastic to ease the way for an exceptional student with limited resources.

“It’s a gift that will keep on giving.”

Maggie looked at the woman beside her, the genuine happiness she felt at being given the means to smooth the way for others. Maybe even more good would come out of the deal she’d made. She’d always felt that she got a miracle the night the sisters found her on this very porch and took her in. Through The Nanny Network, God had put her in the right place, in Jason Garrett’s path, so that she could pay her miracle forward.

She hoped so because personally this deal had landed her right in purgatory. It was a state of temporary misery where a soul could make up for past sins and earn a pass to heaven. She’d been taught that it was a condition where one could see what they were missing out on but not participate.

By that definition, she was definitely in purgatory. She had a front-row seat of what a family of her own could look like, a clear view of what she’d always wanted. But it wasn’t actually hers.

She’d had a wedding, but no wedding night. And the more time she spent with Jason, the more her body felt the emptiness, the more she yearned to be his wife in every sense of the word.

He was a good man, a man she respected more every day. For the sake of the child he loved more than anything, he’d married a woman he could never love. Somehow she’d have to make peace with what she’d done.

She’d have to find a way to live with seeing what she wanted every single day, all the while knowing she couldn’t ever really have it.