by Susan Meier
He swallowed as visions of satin sheets and palming smooth naked skin filled his brain. But before he could stutter and stammer or even run the hell away, Ellie glanced up from the book she was reading. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
Her bathing suit, though a sensual red that revealed the swell of her breasts, was very demure. So why it sent his pulse scrambling, Mac couldn’t say. Still, he’d be a blathering idiot to ask her to slip into her cover-up. Instead, he locked his gaze on her face. “You’re really doing a great job with the kids.”
“Thank you.”
“Actually, the reason I came looking for you is that I wanted to thank you for taking such good care of them.”
Ellie laughed. “I am the nanny.”
He shook his head. “You’d be surprised how many nannies think that just being in the same room with their charges is sufficient.” He drew in a breath, sneaked another peek at her swimsuit—the way the taut red material caressed her curves, particularly accenting her tiny waist—then forced his mind back on his purpose for being outside with her.
“You play with the kids. You’re especially good for Lacy. I appreciate that.”
She ducked her head. “Well, you’re welcome.”
Mac took a deep breath. Oh, Lord. He hoped he hadn’t embarrassed her by looking at her. He was such an idiot. But in his defense she was so beautiful it was damned difficult not to stare.
But he was here on a mission. He’d only used wanting to thank her for taking such good care of his kids as his conversational in. Now that he’d gotten his full report from Phil, it was awkward knowing things about her that she didn’t realize he’d been told. Somehow or another he had to get her to tell him about being a foster child, about leaving an abusive relationship, and her close friendship with Liz Harper, so he didn’t have to worry that he’d slip up and reveal that he knew any or all of it someday.
He lowered himself to the chaise beside hers. Sitting sideways, so his feet were on the decorative tiles that made up the seating area around the pool, he dropped his clasped hands into the space between his knees. Focused on what he had to say, he ignored the tingling of his fingers. This close to her, every inch of his body jumped to red alert, but his fingers itched to touch her. And that was wrong. And he was an adult. He could ignore one simple attraction.
“You know, we’ve never really talked.”
She peeked at him. “About what?”
“About…you know…about your past.”
The confused expression on her face told him this wasn’t going well at all. His attraction was making him sound like a starstruck teenager finally alone with his first crush. Which was ridiculous. He was a grown man who had been married. Hell, now that he was free again, he could have his pick of women. Why this one made him stutter was beyond him.
“Like an interview?”
He sucked in a breath and expelled it quickly. “More like a conversation.”
She sat up, shifting to sit sideways on her chaise, facing him. The knees of her perfect legs angled only inches away from his. They were so close he could touch her accidentally, satisfy his curiosity about whether her skin was as soft as it looked. But that would be wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
“You mean like you would fill me in on a bit of your past and I’d fill you in on a bit of mine?”
Thank God she was thinking like a normal, rational human being and kept the conversation going where he wanted it to go. He could handle telling her a bit of his past. After all, she probably should know some of it in order to properly care for the children.
“Yeah. We should share information about our pasts.”
“Okay. I’m really curious about the kids’ mom.” She grimaced. “Not curious in a gossipy way. But curious in a way that helps me to care for them. I don’t want to accidentally say something I shouldn’t.”
Damn.
He’d hoped she’d start off by talking about herself. Instead she’d led with a question about him. This was what he got for being tongue-tied and stupid just because she was wearing a bathing suit.
“The children’s mom left me because having a second child made her career difficult.”
Ellie gaped in horror. “Are you kidding?”
His sentiment exactly. “She left when she got pregnant, using the pregnancy months to reestablish herself so that when Henry was born, she could hand him off to me and jump back in again.”
“I don’t care how liberated you rich people are—that stinks.”
He couldn’t agree more. Oddly, talking about Pamela had given him back perspective about being attracted to Ellie. He knew the consequences of falling too hard for someone. He had to keep this professional. He couldn’t talk in great detail about his ex-wife with a servant. He’d stick with the information she needed to know to do her job. “She visits the kids about once a month—”
Ellie bounced from her chaise indignantly. “Once a month!”
“And I spend the next week answering questions from Lacy. Consider yourself lucky that she’s cancelled her visit for July or you would be too.”
“How nice of her to let you know in advance,” Ellie said sarcastically.
Mac laughed. “I’m sorry. Normally I don’t find anything humorous about this situation. But your reaction is a bit funny.”
She paced to the pool then back to the side-by-side chaise lounges. Looking down at Mac, she said, “I volunteer for a charity called A Friend Indeed. We work with women with children who are forced to leave abusive homes. I’ve seen the trauma of a child who misses a parent—even when that parent is abusive. Considering her probable feeling of abandonment, Lacy’s fairly well-adjusted.”
Finally! The conversation had shifted, and in a brilliant way. Though talking about Lacy, she’d thrown in some pertinent information about herself. Now he could get everything out that he already knew and he could stop tiptoeing around her.
“Well, her mom’s been gone eighteen months. Time is healing the wound, helping her adjust,” he said, then instantly turned the discussion back to Ellie. “So tell me about this charity. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them.”
“That’s because the work they do is confidential.”
“I understand. Everything you tell me will be kept in strictest confidence. What, exactly, do they do?”
The mental debate she held about whether to trust him changed her expression at least twice. Finally, he said, “My family’s charitable foundation is always looking for worthwhile causes, charities that actually go in the trenches and help people. We know how to be discreet.” He caught her gaze. “And we can be very generous. It might be beneficial to A Friend Indeed for you to tell me about them.”
Obviously seeing his point, she sucked in a breath and began to pace alongside the pool again. “The charity purchases homes and places abused women in them.”
“That’s wonderful. How do the women who need help find them?”
“Social Services doesn’t exactly recommend a woman leave her husband, but they do provide information about A Friend Indeed to women with kids in high-risk situations.”
He frowned. That was the second time she’d mentioned women with children. He knew Ellie had gone to A Friend Indeed for help. Did this mean she had a child? By forcing her into working for him, was he keeping her away from her own kids?
“How did you get involved with them?”
“I found them.” She stopped pacing and faced him, as if suddenly realizing he’d led her to talk about herself, maybe even a part of her past that she wanted to keep hidden.
Feeling the game was up, he smiled sheepishly. “I told you about my wife.”
“Because I’m caring for your children. I need to know.”
“I’m employing you. Trusting you with those same children. I’d like to know about you.”
She licked her lips, drawing Mac’s attention to them. Full and smooth, they all but begged a man to kiss her. Now that he’d gotten control of himself, he wouldn
’t let himself stare too long or want too much, but he couldn’t believe a man would be so foolish as to have her and then mistreat her.
“I was…or wanted to be helped by A Friend Indeed.” She walked away again, toward the pool, keeping her back to him. “But the night I ran, when I got to the charity, they told me they only take women with kids. Liz happened to be with Ayleen, the group’s leader, that night, and she offered me her couch.”
That answered his question about her having kids and also explained her fierce loyalty to Cain Nestor’s wife.
“And she hired you?”
Ellie nodded then turned suddenly. “So what does your wife do for a living that’s so important that she can only see her kids once a month?”
He stifled a sigh. She wasn’t going to tell him about the pizza shop owner. Wasn’t going to share her fears or the struggle to get back to a good place in life. And both of those were too personal for him to push her into talking about them.
Of course, maybe if he answered a few more questions about Pamela, Ellie would answer a few more personal questions about her life.
He caught her gaze. “It’s not what she does. It’s where she lives. California.”
Ellie’s pretty mouth dropped open. “California!” She blinked a few times then she said, “Oh, my gosh! She’s on TV or something, isn’t she?”
“Or something.”
His vague answer brought a spark of fire to Ellie’s amber eyes. “Oh, I get it. I can tell you about me, but you’re not going to give me any more information than you have to.”
He was tempted to debate that. Not only had he revealed much, much more than she had, but also she hadn’t really told him about herself. Thanks to Phil, he knew there was more. Lots more. But he also understood what she was saying. Her admissions were difficult. His was merely embarrassing. Sad for his children, but not gut-wrenching, the way hers had been. He had to tell her everything, make himself vulnerable, if he wanted her to share with him.
“Okay. She was a movie star. She’s trying to edge her way into a comeback.” He rose from his chaise and walked over to her. “Nothing seriously awful happened in our marriage. We fell out of love. She wanted her career back. She deserted her kids. But she didn’t abuse them. She isn’t one of Satan’s minions. She’s a selfish, narcissistic pain in the ass, but we survived her leaving. My big secret and the reason I don’t talk about this is that we’re sort of in hiding.”
“Sort of?”
He got close enough to smell her soft scent, tempting fate because they were in one of those odd positions of life. They were too attracted to be friends, but he had to trust her and she had to trust him if this situation was to work. They were both pushing. And his admissions, though less serious, weren’t any easier than hers. So why not get a tiny reward? Why not step close to the fire?
“Mrs. Pomeroy was my nanny. She called me when this house came on the market and suggested that we hide in plain sight. Our neighbors know who we are. But when Pamela’s movie comes out next month, the paparazzi who come looking for us will go first to the family mansion in Atlanta. By the time they realize we’re not there and investigate where we’ve moved, the noise Pamela tries to create might be over. If it’s not, we’ll move again.”
Her big brown eyes captured his, holding his gaze. She studied him, as if trying to figure out if he were being honest. A few seconds stretched into a minute, and before common sense had time to remind him that they couldn’t be this close for this long without resurrecting their chemistry, suddenly the air between them crackled with life and energy. His blood heated. His fingers itched to sink into her curling hair. His mouth longed to taste her. And though he knew nothing could ever come of this, he once again stepped closer to the fire.
Ellie took a step back, away from the powerful pull of him. She longed to run her fingers through his hair, touch his cheek, kiss his wonderful mouth. She told herself that he was off-limits. Yet for some reason or another, her body wasn’t listening to her common sense tonight.
She took another step back. “Your ex-wife is Pamela Rose?”
He nodded.
“Wow.” She wasn’t surprised by the fact that his ex-wife had been a starlet. He was the kind of guy who’d attract a starlet. What wowed her was that she was here—in his company, living in a mansion. Sometimes she forgot just how rich and powerful he was. And he was confiding in her.
“Now, do you see why we’re in hiding?”
“I guess.”
He chuckled. “You guess?”
“Come on, Mac. A rich guy like you has to have an army of public relations people at your disposal. Surely, they could dispel a few rumors.”
“I’m not worried about rumors. I’m worried about pictures. Because of my family’s money, I grew up with bodyguards, silent alarms and restrictions on where I could go and what I could do. But I still had a measure of privacy. Once I married Pam, everything changed. When your picture gets on the front page of enough tabloids, people start to recognize you. I don’t want that to happen to my kids. So I have to keep them away from the paparazzi, so they’re not recognizable, because that makes them targets for extortionists and kidnappers.”
She’d never thought of that. If no one knew what Mac’s kids looked like, they could walk the streets or go to the beach, without anyone suspecting who they were and seeing potential ransom amounts instead of two beautiful children.
“True.”
“Which is why I don’t want the kids off the grounds.”
She shook her head. “But that’s exactly the opposite of what you’re trying to accomplish.”
“Not really.”
“Yes. Really. You’re supposed to be hiding in plain sight but in case you haven’t noticed, you’re a prisoner in your own house.”
“It’s the price we pay for my stupidity in making such a poor choice for a mate.”
Her heart thumped at his admission that he’d made a bad choice in his first marriage. He really wasn’t in love with his ex-wife anymore. And he really was attracted to her. So much so that he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. They held her gaze when she stood close, followed her when she paced. And now he was confiding in her. Part of her longed to step closer to take what it seemed he was trying to offer. The other part knew they were a bad match. This very conversation proved it. He was a man who felt he needed to hide. She was a woman who’d only recently learned how to live without hiding.
She stepped away from him and focused on the kids. She knew what it was like to be a prisoner. She also knew that she’d gone overboard before Liz had talked her into getting out into the world beyond simply working. It had taken Liz an entire year to lure her into restaurants and help her to make friends at A Friend Indeed. And her life was better, richer for it.
She’d spent a lot of unnecessary time in her self-imposed prison. And perhaps he and his kids were too.
“I think you’re crazy. Hiding in plain sight means you move to a place where no one expects you to be so that when they hear your name, even if they recognize it, they don’t connect you to the ‘billionaire’ Mac Carmichael because they expect the billionaire Mac Carmichael to be under lock and key, and certainly not out and about in their neighborhood.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Really? Because the way I see it, if there have never been pictures of your kids, the average person couldn’t possibly know who they are. It’s not like they wear a sign that says, ‘My dad’s a billionaire’.”
He laughed, so Ellie pressed her point home. “Even your face isn’t that recognizable. Everyone knows who you are when you’re connected to your companies, like giving a press conference. But put on a pair of shorts and a fishing hat and walk into the mall and I’ll bet nobody knows you.”
At first Mac laughed, then he realized she wasn’t kidding and his laughter stopped. “You’re serious?”
“Yes. As long as no one knows what your kids look like there’s no reason to hide them.”
He shook his head. “Going out hoping that no one knows who we are would be a dangerous way to live. All it takes is one person to recognize even one of us for pictures to be taken and the entire world to know.”
“I doubt it. Most people don’t read Forbes or Fortune. And those are the only places your name and picture appear regularly.”
“Right. The second I pull out a credit card the clerk knows my name.”
“And you think a clerk at the mall is going to know who Mac Carmichael is?” She laughed gaily. “Come on. You’re only famous in your own circle. Store clerks won’t know you. Neither will the kid at the food court.”
He frowned, seeing her point.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief when she caught his gaze. “Let’s do an experiment. Let’s take the kids to the mall tomorrow night. We’ll go to a fast food restaurant and walk through a few stores. Lacy will probably die of happiness and you’ll see that you don’t have to be a prisoner.”
With her voice light with merriment and her eyes shining, it was so tempting to Mac to lean into her, brush a kiss across her lips, tease her into taking his side. So he stepped back, away from temptation, into his comfort zone.
Obviously thinking he’d stepped away because he disagreed, she caught his arm. “Please. Even if you never want to do it again, do it once. For Lacy. She’d love this.”
A storm of electricity burst through him, like lightning penetrating thick storm clouds. He stared into her wise brown eyes and didn’t see the corresponding attraction he knew she felt. Instead, her earnest expression told him she really was bartering for the day out for his daughter. Appreciation rose up in him, battling the sexual needs coursing through him. He had a choice: say he’d think about it and run like hell to get away from temptation. Or stay. Take the conversation away from Lacy and to him. What he wanted from her. What he needed. What it could mean for them, if he were that free. That trusting.