Nanny for the Millionaire's Twins

By: Susan Meier



 “Well, I didn’t think you’d need one to go to your mom’s for breakfast.”

 He caught her gaze. “She doesn’t require a tie for breakfast, but she does for dinner.”

 Tory winced. “Sounds fun.”

 “It’s a pain in the butt. Just like this meeting with my brother is going to be.” He finished his coffee, walked back into his room and grabbed his suit jacket.

 Striding through the great room to the front door, he said, “I don’t expect to be back for a few hours—probably two.”

 “Okay.” She turned to Cindy and Sam. “Say goodbye to your daddy, kids.”

 Both kids squawked happily.

 He groaned in his head. She had him so tripped up that he’d forgotten to say goodbye to his own kids.

 After a quick kiss to the top of each twin’s head, he left the cottage and jumped into his SUV, blowing his breath out on a long sigh. He told himself to think of Liliah, to remember relationships were always trouble. To remember he didn’t want to be hurt. To remember he didn’t want his kids to be hurt by another woman who abandoned them.

 He started the SUV and headed up the lane to the street. Twenty minutes later, he stood outside the yellow brick Montgomery Development building. Quiet and dignified, it sat among buildings older and taller and yet it still somehow intimidated him. How could four measly stories project such an air of power?

 He sucked in a breath. It was no wonder he was tired of drama. Not only had Liliah made him miserable, but with the exception of Gwen, his family life had been trouble too. He’d thought all that was over when his dad died, but his brother had relentlessly followed him for the past few years, trying to get him to come home. He’d always managed to give him the slip, until last week when he couldn’t take the babies and run.

 So after Max called, he’d called their mom to talk things through with her, and he’d come home. Not to placate his brother and certainly not forever. He would always call Gwen Mom, and now that the truth was out about his dad, he would always have a relationship with her. But he wasn’t sure he wanted a relationship with the brother who’d kept their dad’s secret. And he had a feeling the only way to stay away from persistent Max would be to go back to Tennessee.

 Blowing his breath out on a long sigh, he headed for the entryway. He would let his brother have his say, thank him for any offers he made and refuse them. He wouldn’t start trouble. He wouldn’t open old wounds. There didn’t need to be any arguments. He would calmly ask his brother to let him alone—for good this time—and be done with this.

 He stepped through the glass double doors and stopped, totally surprised. Vaulted ceilings soared to the roof. Sunshine poured in through skylights and fed the potted trees that sat on each side of the two white sofas in the reception area. A polished yellow wood reception desk sat in the center of everything.

 Wow. His mom had said Max had changed things, but he hadn’t expected that would mean even the building.

 Dark brown travertine tile led him to the reception desk. The pretty twentysomething brunette greeted him with a smile. “Can I help you?”

 “Yes. I have an appointment with Mr. Montgomery.”

 She glanced down at a small computer screen. “Your name?”

 “Chance.” He paused. “Montgomery.”

 The young woman glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow. He scowled at her. If Max thought he would jump through hoops to get to see him, he was sadly mistaken.

 “If it’s that much of a bother to see my big brother, even with an appointment, I’ll just go.”

 The receptionist held up a hand to stop him. “No. No problem! I’m sorry. Just give me a second to announce you.” She pressed two buttons on her phone then turned away.

 He heard the receptionist say his name, then give his description.

 Then there was silence.

 Annoyance flooded him. This was what he’d hated about being a Montgomery. The pretense. As if he were the king of England, Max screened his visitors.

 The receptionist faced him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Montgomery. You may go up.”

 “Gee, thanks.”

 Obviously recognizing how insulted he was, the receptionist grimaced. “Take the third elevator in the back of that hall.” She pointed to the left. “By the time you get there, a security guard will be there to punch in the code.”

 He ambled to the last elevator, the temptation to leave tickling his brain. He’d told Max he wanted no part of this pomp and circumstance, yet the first thing he did was run him through a lineup.

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