Nanny for the Millionaire's Twins

By: Susan Meier



 Sam squealed, slapping his hands on the highchair tray.

 “Did you not hear the part about best behavior? Your dad is exhausted and we’re letting him sleep in.”

 She spooned a helping of cereal into Sam’s mouth. He smacked his lips in innocent enjoyment.

 She laughed, wanting to pinch his chubby little cheek. Instead, she fed Cindy a spoon of cereal. “But I’m also sort of trying to butter him up. We never talked about days off and we have to because—”

 She paused, cleared her throat, not sure why she couldn’t quite bring herself to talk about Jason with two babies who probably wouldn’t understand a word she said.

 Except that the situation with Jason was sad and they were happy. Sam was a chubby, giggly little guy and Cindy was petite, demure. Probably someday she’d be exactly like Gwen. It seemed wrong to tell them about something so tragic when they were so cheerful.

 So she wouldn’t tell them, but she had to tell Chance. She had to ask for days off.

 * * *

 Chance stretched lazily when he woke. His back didn’t hurt. His head was clear. And his muscles felt great. He was almost energetic.

 He bounced up in bed and his gaze flew to the clock. It was almost nine!

 The kids!

 Why weren’t they screaming?

 He rolled to get out from under the thin sheet that covered him and saw the blue drapes on the big window.

 Not his house. His mom’s guesthouse.

 And he hadn’t gotten up with the kids in the middle of the night because they now had a nanny.

 A godsend nanny.

 Well, the woman who would be a godsend if she weren’t so damned good-looking.

 He passed his hand down his face, reminded himself that Tory was a drama-free employee whom he wanted to keep and headed for the bathroom. He didn’t hear any crying and he also had a meeting that morning, so he stepped into the shower in his private bathroom and scrubbed himself off.

 Alone.

 No kids sitting in front of the glass shower door, in the little basket-like seats Liliah had dropped them off in, crying as he took one of the shortest showers in recorded history.

 For this and this alone, he could keep his hormones under control around the nanny. Because the other thing he’d figured out—before he drifted off to sleep the night before—was that she wasn’t the problem. She hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, she’d more or less told him she wasn’t interested in him by her behavior at the discount department store. Which meant anything he’d taken to be attraction on her part, he’d misinterpreted.

 So he was the one who had to get in line. And that should be a piece of cake. He’d been ignoring women for fifteen months now.

 He dressed in trousers and a white shirt and tie and walked through the great room into the kitchen area. Tory had the babies in the two highchairs, and was alternating feeding them. Her auburn hair had been caught up in a long ponytail that made her look about twenty, but she wore baggy jeans and a blousy top that hid all of her curves.

 Still, when he saw her, his stomach jumped. Nerve endings he didn’t even know he had bounced to attention.

 She smiled at him. “Hey, good morning.” Her gaze tumbled from his head to his toes and her smile grew. “Well, look at you.”

 His mouth went dry. He tried to say good morning, but when the words came out they were more like a jumble of mush.

 “I have coffee.”

 “Great.” He walked to the pot, scolding himself for being ridiculous. Yes, she was pretty. And, yes, it had been a long time since he’d really looked at a woman—and since one had looked at him. But she was dressed in clothes obviously not meant to attract him. So the once-over she’d given him was nothing more than a friendly acknowledgment that he looked better in a shirt and tie than blue jeans.

 He had to stop reacting to her. He needed her.

 As a nanny.

 He found a mug, poured himself some coffee and took a swallow before he said, “Are you okay being alone with the kids this morning?”

 She smiled at him. A big, beaming smile that made her brown eyes sparkle. “That’s sort of my job.”

 His hormones jumped again. Every fiber of his being wanted to flirt with her. But, again, she might be friendly, but she wasn’t flirting. Any attraction he thought he saw was strictly in his head or maybe wishful thinking.

 He sucked in a breath. “Great. Because I actually have a meeting with my brother.”

 “Ah. That explains the tie.”

 He flapped it away from his shirt, and let it fall down again. “Dead giveaway, huh?”

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