Nanny for the Millionaire's Twins

By: Susan Meier



 He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, as if bone tired and finding it hard to refute that argument. “All right. You both can come.”

 After they strapped the kids into their seats, Tory sat between the twins so Gwen could ride in the front with her son.

 As they made their way down the slim brown brick lane that wound through the forest behind Gwen’s mansion, Tory began to see just how private their living arrangements would be. The trees were thick enough that it was nearly dark. Only occasionally did light pierce the red, yellow and orange leafy overhangs and create shiny beams that sparkled to the ground.

 She swallowed. Maybe her first instincts had been correct? Maybe she should have held her ground with her mom and told her she didn’t want a job. She wanted to be with Jason, to take care of him, to help him recover. Not trapped in a secluded cottage with a man she didn’t know.

 They stopped in front of a one-story house too big to be called a cottage. Though it was stone and had adorable windows and a roof with several peaks, it was obviously roomy and modern.

 Gwen led them through the great room to the bedroom she’d had redesigned and furnished as a nursery. Two oak cribs, two changing tables and two rockers filled it.

 Chance laid chubby Sam on the first changing table. Gwen set Cindy on the second. “Tory, darling, while we’re changing the diapers, could you make the babies some cereal?”

 “Sure.” Happy to escape, she raced outside to the SUV, assuming she’d find baby supplies there. But all she saw were two duffle bags. When she brought them into the kitchen and rummaged through them, she found nothing but clothes.

 “See anything you like?”

 Her heart just about leaped out of her chest at Chance’s question. His voice was low and deep, and the sexy way he folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the center island of the kitchen caused her pulse to scramble.

 Annoyance skittered through her. Why did she keep noticing things about this man? She was engaged. She shouldn’t be looking at his handsome face or noting the way he moved. Plus, at first blush, she didn’t even like him.

 Presenting him with what she hoped was a professional smile, she said, “I was looking for cereal.”

 He handed her the diaper bag. “It’s in here. Mom said she had the refrigerator stocked with supplies, including milk. Use that since mine’s been sitting in this diaper bag for hours.”

 With that he turned and walked away, and Tory let out the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. He might be good-looking but he was crabby. Even if she wasn’t engaged, she shouldn’t be interested—attracted, whatever the devil she was—to him.

 She quickly prepared the cereal. By the time she carried it into the nursery, Chance and his mom were on the rocking chairs, each holding a baby. She put the two small bowls on the round table between the rockers and stepped back. Chance fed little bruiser Sam and Gwen fed Cindy.

 With nothing else to do, she stood by the door and watched them. Though the babies were twins and looked a bit alike, they weren’t identical. Aside from their disparate size, they had different hair. Sam’s was short and fine, but Cindy’s was thick and longer. Yellow curls fell to her forehead and along her nape.

 When they were done, Chance rose from his rocker. “I think we should put them down for a nap. They’ve eaten and now they’ll be tired.”

 “So it’s not their regularly scheduled nap time?” Gwen asked.

 He snorted a laugh. “Scheduled nap time? I don’t tell them when to sleep or eat. They tell me.”

 Remembering the trouble she’d had her first summer with the Perkins family, wealthy lawyers with kids who ran roughshod over them, Tory couldn’t stifle the, “Oh, dear” that escaped her lips.

 She instantly regretted it. Chance’s pretty blue eyes narrowed at her and his mouth thinned into an angry line.

 He patted Sam’s back a bit, then laid the drowsy child in the crib. Following Chance’s lead, Gwen did the same with Cindy. The babies fell asleep instantly and Chance headed for the door, his mom on his heels.

 Tory followed them out of the nursery, wanting to kick herself. The guy already didn’t like her and she didn’t exactly like him. Did she have to make things worse with her big mouth?

 When they reentered the main room, Gwen turned to Chance. “Since the babies are sleeping, there’s no point in us hanging around. Plus, you and I could use a little catch up time.” She smiled at him. “Why don’t you drive us back to the house and we’ll go to the den where there’s good brandy? We can have Cook make us a snack.”

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