The Tycoon's Instant Family

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘How’s she been?’ Nick asked his mother worriedly as they went in. She looked exhausted, Georgie thought, and really not very well.

  ‘She’s been a good little girl, but I think I might need to see the doctor. My leg’s playing up.’

  It was. Even Georgie could tell that. It was sore and angry where one of the pins went in, and the trip to the beach had to be abandoned so Nick could take his mother to the hospital. George offered, but he still couldn’t really support her weight after his operation, and Nick decided he’d rather do it.

  Which left her and her father with two bored and thwarted children, a grizzly baby and a building site that needed their attention.

  If she could just cut herself in half, Georgie thought. Still, the site was just above the beach, the walkie-talkie worked that far, and after checking that they could cope without her for a little while she left her father in charge, rounded up the troops and they set off for the beach, with Archie glued to Harry’s side.

  They built a fort, and Archie dug the moat, and the baby slept peacefully for an hour. It was too good to be true, she thought, and then Nick appeared.

  ‘Uncle Nick! Come and help us build the fort!’ Dickon said excitedly, and grabbed his hand, but he shook his head.

  ‘Sorry, Dickon, I can’t. I have to go back to the hospital. They want Grandma to stay in, because her leg’s a bit sore,’ Nick explained. ‘I’ll come and see it, though. Let me just talk to Georgie for a minute.’

  She stood up, brushing the sand off her legs, and they moved away a little.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked worriedly.

  He sighed and scrubbed his hand through his hair. ‘She’s got a pin track infection, apparently, and they want to do scans and things to see if they can take the frame off yet. She’s on an antibiotic drip for the night.’

  ‘Oh, no. Nick, I’m sorry.’

  ‘So am I. I really need to get back to London, and without her here I just can’t do that.’

  ‘Una will be back tonight. Can’t you ask her if she can stay another week or two?’

  ‘I can ask, but it’ll probably be no. I wonder if I can get someone else.’

  ‘Ask Tory.’

  He snorted. ‘Tory’s busy planning her escape.’

  ‘Rubbish. She’ll sort you, Nick. Just ask her.’

  ‘And in the meantime? I have to take the children to school tomorrow, I know that, but then what? If I run down to London and don’t get back, who’ll pick up the kids? Una can’t drive, if she’s even still here, and if you do it then your father’s taking on too much on the site.’

  ‘Nonsense. He’s in his element, but there are things he’s not up to speed on, changes that you’ve made that might not be written down. It’s not a physical problem, it’s a factual one—and the fact is, I need to be on site. He can get the boys from school, though, if you really can’t get back. I think you should, though. It’s their first day, Nick. It’s important.’

  ‘It’s all important,’ he growled. ‘And what about the baby?’

  Georgie shrugged. ‘You could take her to London with you? At least you’ll know where she is.’

  ‘Yeah—I’ll be able to hear her screaming! Oh, God, this is such a mess. I could kill Una.’

  ‘You don’t mean that.’

  He sighed. ‘No, of course I don’t. Damn. We’ll sort it out tomorrow. I have to take Mum some things. Want me to give you a hand to get back to the house before the little one kicks up?’

  And right on queue, she started to grizzle.

  Georgie gave a frustrated smile. ‘You spoke too soon.’

  It went downhill. Una wanted to go the next day, and so Nick ordered a taxi to take her to the airport.

  His mother’s scan results were not good, and she was told she’d have to stay in for several days. Against her better judgement Nick had had her moved to the private wing, and it made it easier to take the children in to see her that evening.

  ‘So, are you looking forward to school in the morning?’ she asked brightly, and Dickon beamed, but Harry’s face was shuttered and withdrawn, and Georgie worried for him.

  She was on site at seven in the morning, but there was no sign of Nick. He always came out to see her, but today, she guessed, he was up to his eyes with the boys.

  Oh, well, she didn’t have time to worry about them. She had her own problems. Her father had done his best, but, because she’d tried to keep the load off him, she hadn’t involved him in all the little changes. And he’d made a couple of mistakes which now had to be rectified.

  A lorry arrived with a delivery, and the digger was parked right where she wanted the driveway blocks unloaded. No sign of the digger driver, but the key was on the hook, so she went out, ignoring the ringing phone, and climbed up into the cab, firing up the engine.

  As she started to lift the bucket she saw a flash of colour out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked up there was nothing. Shrugging, she eased the lever and raised the bucket up, just as the cab door flew open and Nick wrenched her hand off the lever.

  ‘Stop!’ he yelled, his face panic-stricken. ‘Dickon’s in the bucket!’

  ‘What?’ She leapt out and ran round, to see Harry sitting on the ground crying and Dickon peering white-faced out of the bucket overhead.

  ‘Stay there,’ she told him firmly. ‘Don’t move a muscle. Harry, move back a little further, darling. Nick, lift him down the moment the bucket’s in reach.’

  And, trembling, her legs like jelly, she climbed back up into the digger, lowered the bucket until it was level with Nick and then waited while he snatched the child to safety before backing it out of the way, parking it up and running over to them.

  ‘They didn’t want to go to school,’ Nick said, his face agonised.

  ‘I did,’ Dickon piped up. ‘It was Harry’s idea to hide. I thought the digger would be a fun place to go. I didn’t know you were going to move it. Harry jumped out, but I was too scared…’ And his little chin started to wobble.

  Georgie didn’t care. She’d nearly killed them both, and she could have done it then with her bare hands. Or the person who was supposed to be in charge.

  She turned to Nick, ignoring his pale face and agonised expression, and tore into him.

  ‘What the hell did you think you were doing, letting them come on the site? I know you don’t take site safety seriously, but they could have been killed, Nick! Don’t you think your family’s gone through enough?’

  He recoiled as if she’d slapped him, then, taking Harry by the hand, he turned on his heel and marched them back to the house without a word.

  ‘So where do you want these blocks, love?’

  ‘Over there—and don’t call me love!’ Georgie snapped, and stalked back into the site office, slammed the door and burst into tears.

  Ten minutes later she saw the estate car leaving, the two boys in the back and Nick grim-faced behind the wheel. She wondered where the baby was, and decided it wasn’t her problem. He could manage the baby. He could manage all of them.

  Then Una appeared in the doorway in tears. ‘I never wanted the boys to be hurt. I should have been watching them, but I was packing. Nick was bathing the baby—Georgie, I’m so sorry.’

  Oh, lord. Not Nick’s fault at all, then, but Una’s. ‘Where’s the baby now?’

  ‘With Nick. He’s going to London. The taxi is coming to get me. Georgie, I’m so sorry—for all of it. For leaving, and making it this bad thing between you and Nick.’

  Georgie sighed. ‘It’s OK,’ she relented, and hugged Una. ‘I hope your boyfriend’s pleased to see you. Good luck.’

  ‘Thank you. Oh—my taxi. I must go. Say goodbye to the boys for me.’

  ‘I will. Safe journey.’

  She watched her go with a sinking heart. She’d been good to the children, and without her their lives would all be vastly more complicated.

  No. Nick’s life would be, and his mother’s. Hers wasn’t involved. They weren’t
his children. It was temporary. He just needed to get another nanny to care for the children while Liz got better, and it would all sort itself out.

  It had to.

  It was a hellish day. The baby screamed, Tory announced she was leaving in three weeks and there wasn’t a nanny available till Monday, at least.

  ‘I’ll pay twice as much,’ he said to Tory, but the agency weren’t interested.

  ‘It isn’t about money,’ Tory said. ‘I’ve already offered them three times the going rate. They just don’t have anyone reliable until Monday, so you’ll just have to cope. What’s going to happen if you don’t come to work, Nick? You might lose a few hundred thousand here and there. You can afford it. Your family’s more important.’

  She was absolutely right, of course.

  ‘Monday, then,’ he growled. ‘And she’d better be fantastic.’

  The only high point in the day was his phone call to the school, which revealed that the boys had settled in fine and were having a great time. He wasn’t sure he believed it, but he’d interrogate them once he got home and find out just how great it had really been. Until then he’d have to take Mrs James on trust.

  And in the meantime, he had work to do—shed-loads of it, if his business wasn’t going to go completely down the pan.

  Frankly, he wasn’t sure he cared.

  Nick’s apology was short and to the point. He came onto the site just as she was locking up, his face stiff with strain and emotion, and his voice was carefully controlled.

  ‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking after them at the time, but that doesn’t excuse me. You were right, they’re my responsibility and they could have been killed. It won’t happen again.’

  And he walked off. No hug, no sorry, I’m an idiot, forgive me. Just my fault, it won’t happen again. And he looked exhausted. She would have followed him, but the set of his shoulders was pretty unwelcoming.

  Oh, damn. She felt the tears prickle her eyes, and blinked hard. This was so stupid. He’d obviously had a hell of a day, she wanted to know how the children had got on at school, he would need to visit his mother in hospital and if she didn’t unbend, a difficult day was just going to be even worse.

  ‘Nick?’

  He stopped and turned. ‘What?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  He came back to her, unsmiling, and stopped a foot away.

  ‘What for?’

  She shrugged. ‘I yelled at you in front of them. I shouldn’t have done that, but I just felt sick. I could have killed them. I should have checked the bucket before I got in the digger. It isn’t only your fault, or Una’s, and it certainly isn’t the boys’.’

  His face softened, and he reached for her. ‘Come here. I’ve had a hell of a day. The last thing I need is to fight with you.’

  She slid her arms round him and hugged him tight, and he rested his chin on her head and sighed.

  ‘How did the boys get on?’

  ‘OK, I think. Not nearly as bad as Harry had thought, and he seems to have made a friend. Dickon thought it was great.’

  She smiled against his shirt and lifted her head. ‘Want a babysitter tonight so you can see your mother?’

  He searched her eyes. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘What else am I going to do?’

  He laughed without humour. ‘Run away with me?’

  ‘Don’t tempt me. Look, I’m all hot and sticky and dusty. Let me go home and shower and change, and I’ll come back. You can see your mother, I’ll feed the kids and maybe we can get a takeaway later.’

  ‘What about your father?’

  ‘Unless I’m very much mistaken, he’ll make himself a sandwich and settle down in front of the television for the night. He saw your mother this afternoon, and he’s been helping out here, and I think he’s ready for an early night. So, shall we do that?’

  ‘Sounds good.’ He kissed her lingeringly. ‘See you later. Don’t be long.’

  She wasn’t, and by the time he came back from visiting his mother, takeaway in hand, the boys were tucked up in bed, fast asleep, the baby was just finishing her bottle and Georgie was ready to put her feet up. Big time.

  She burped the baby, settled her in her cot and went through to the kitchen. He’d found the warmed plates and opened the cartons, and she sniffed appreciatively and stuck her finger in the curry sauce. ‘Yum. I’m glad I’m marrying you. You do good food.’

  ‘I do good all sorts of things,’ he said with a grin. ‘I got passanda and dansak. Didn’t know what you’d like—and there’s a peshwari naan and pilau rice.’ He brandished a bottle of wine at her, and she blew him a kiss.

  ‘You little star,’ she said, and he grinned.

  ‘You look ready for it.’

  ‘You, too. Has it been a killer day?’

  ‘Awful. I want to talk to you about it. Let’s eat first.’

  ‘I’m not going back to London.’

  She sat bolt upright on the little sofa in the tower room and stared at him. ‘What? Never?’

  ‘Not for ages. I need to be more involved with the children. There’s a nanny starting on Monday, and Tory’s in the office another three weeks. That should give me time to decide what I want to do with my life, but it can’t go on like it has for the last few years, and I don’t want it to. It’s just working out what to do instead that’s difficult.’

  She tipped her head on one side and studied him thoughtfully. ‘Tell me to mind my own business if you like, but do you actually need to work?’

  He gave a wry laugh. ‘Only to stop myself going crazy. Not for money, no.’

  ‘So if you were careful, you wouldn’t have to work again?’

  He chuckled and pulled her closer. ‘I don’t even need to be that careful. The only reason I’m working is because I have to do something with my life, and because there are a lot of people out there who benefit from the business. We sponsor a lot of charities, support individual ventures, that sort of thing. So, no, I don’t need to work, but I should, and I wouldn’t want to stop that side of it.’

  She should have known. Should have worked it out, because he was too kind to keep it all to himself. And despite the car and the hot tub, he didn’t surround himself in luxury. The house, for instance—the spec was high, but nothing extraordinary, nothing outrageous or ostentatious. He just wasn’t like that, and it was part of the reason she loved him.

  ‘How about property development?’ she suggested. ‘You’ve got quite an interesting portfolio already, with the apartment in London, this site here and all Andrew Broomfield’s shop units. And you could run that from anywhere.’

  ‘Mmm. And you could be the resident architect. If we converted the chapel, it would provide office space and a design studio for you…’

  She swivelled round and looked searchingly at him. ‘You’ve thought all this through, haven’t you?’

  ‘Some of it. Just a few ideas. I haven’t made any decisions. Would you be interested?’

  She snuggled back. ‘Could be. I’m more interested in getting this site done and dusted at the moment, but in the future—yes, maybe.’

  He pressed his lips to the top of her head and sighed. ‘Want to stay the night?’

  She laughed softly. ‘I’d love to, but we aren’t married. What about the children?’

  ‘Hmm. You’re right. We’ll just have to get married nice and soon, and then I can have you to myself all night.’

  She could hardly wait.

  The next few days were hectic on the site, but Nick was around and he and the boys waved to her from the other side of the site fence on their way to and from the beach. Goodness knew when he was working—all night, probably, in between feeding the baby and doing the washing.

  She saw him every evening, but the mornings were too busy and she longed for Sunday. They were working on Saturday to get the site ready for marketing; the carpet was being laid in the show house on Monday, and the landscapers were due to start, so she’d put a crew to work clearing around the ho
uses and they were hard at work on the gardens. By the time they’d finished, Nick was visiting his mother, and she went home and found her father was also out.

  Never mind. She was too tired to speak, so she simply had a bath and fell into bed without bothering to eat. Her father woke her at nine in the morning with a cup of tea, and sat on the edge of her bed.

  ‘How are you? You look worn out.’

  ‘I am. Busy day yesterday clearing the site ready for the landscapers. It’s looking great, though.’

  ‘It is. I’m proud of you. You’ve pulled this all together really well, and I can’t tell you how thrilled I am about you and Nick. It’s such good news about the children—you must be really happy.’

  ‘The children?’

  ‘Mmm. I think it’s wonderful. You’ll be a real family. Liz is so relieved, because this leg of hers is going to take ages to heal, and she’s been so worried, but now you’re going to adopt them, she won’t have to worry at all.’

  Georgie stared at him, stunned. ‘Adopt them?’ she said blankly. ‘We aren’t going to adopt them. She’s going to look after them, with the new nanny who starts on Monday. Nick and I are going to help at the weekends.’

  Her father looked just as puzzled. ‘But…Liz said Nick had told her—he must have discussed it with you, surely?’

  ‘No, he hasn’t,’ she said, throwing back the covers, ‘but trust me, he will.’

  She grabbed her clothes, went into the bathroom and scrubbed her teeth, yanked on her clothes and stormed out. What the hell was he thinking about? Sure, it was a fantastic idea to adopt the kids. The best possible thing for them—but when had he decided to do it? Yesterday? The day before? Or weeks ago, when getting a nanny had proved to be so darned hard? How long had the idea been in his mind?

  Since before he’d told her he loved her? Dammit, he’d asked her to marry him, and she’d thought it was because he really loved her, but what if it wasn’t? What if it was just an easy way to get a nanny on tap, and all his professions of love were just pretty lies?

  Her heart breaking, she skidded to a halt outside his house, went in without knocking and ran up to the tower room. He was sitting at the desk, the children nowhere to be seen, and he lifted his head and started to smile. Then he must have registered her face, and he shut the top of his laptop and stood up.