'Tis the Season

by Jennifer Gracen

  The sticky truth welled inside him. He wanted something else out of life . . . something for himself, as selfish as that sounded.

  Was it any wonder he’d grabbed at Lisette that night as if she were a damn life raft? He was just lucky his spectacular fall from grace had been with someone as kind as she was. His explosive actions with her that night, wrong though they might have been, had made him feel alive for the first time in forever.

  Of course he hadn’t been able to get Lisette off his mind since that night, and he felt the chemistry crackle around them whenever she was close. But he had to stop this nonsense and get his head out of the clouds where she was concerned. Stop with this . . . infatuation, or whatever the hell this was.

  Then he could focus on the other things. Like finding a way to balance his work with being a better father, and feeling more alive again in some other way. Because with each passing day, the Harrison legacy, the COO title, and everything that went with it were feeling less like a privilege and more like a cage.

  * * *

  Lisette always brought her e-reader with her wherever she went. That way, she could read one of her many books or play Trivia Crack while she waited in between kid pickups. Between Ava’s being in one place and the boys in another, Lisette found it wasn’t worth going all the way home to go back out again to get them. She’d sit in the car and make use of her time.

  During the day, when the kids were in school, she helped Tina with the kids’ laundry and cleaning their rooms. She took a yoga class in town two mornings a week, and an art class once a week. These were the hobbies she allowed herself to indulge in.

  Now, Lisette left the minivan and entered the lobby of the gymnastics center just as Ava walked through the other door, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

  “Perfect timing,” Lisette smiled. “Ready to go?”

  After that, it was off to the Sandy Point Pools, where they picked up the boys from their swimming lessons.

  “I don’t want to do swimming anymore,” Thomas said as soon as they pulled out of the parking lot. “It’s boring.”

  “It is not!” Myles cried. “I love it!”

  “I think it’s boring,” Thomas repeated emphatically. “I wanna do hockey.”

  “Well,” Lisette said, glancing into the rearview mirror to meet Thomas’s eyes for a moment, “you’ll have to discuss that with your father.”

  “He won’t let me,” Thomas grumbled. “He never lets us quit anything once we’ve started. You made a commitment; you have to see it through. Harrisons aren’t quitters.” His stuffy impression of Charles was amusing, but Lisette managed to press her lips together hard to hide the smile that threatened.

  “Well, we aren’t!” Myles said, pride in his little voice. “We’re tough! We’re strong!”

  “You’re six,” Thomas sniffed. “Real tough guy, you are.”

  “Neither one of you are tough guys,” Lisette said calmly. “And no one wants you to be.”

  “Uncle Pierce is tough,” Thomas said. “He has tattoos and everything.”

  “Well, Uncle Pierce is cool,” Ava put in. “Daddy isn’t. Daddy is . . . a boss. In a good way. Like a leader. Daddy’s a leader.”

  “He’s boring,” Thomas said, “just like swimming.”

  Lisette concentrated on the traffic. Since the time change a few weeks before, they always came home from activities in the dark now. By the time she pulled through the gate at the edge of Charles’s property, the kids were bickering over who was cooler, Uncle Pierce or Uncle Dane. Pierce seemed to be in the lead by virtue of his former pro-athlete status and tattoos. She drove up the long, winding driveway to the front of the house, tripping the sensor for the bright security light that went on. The kids piled out of the minivan; she wrapped her scarf around her neck to ward off the chilly evening air and wondered if Charles would indeed be home for dinner as he’d said he would.

  She opened the front door, the kids all went inside, and before she could even turn around, she heard Myles cry happily, “Daddy! Daddy, you’re home!”

  She turned to see Charles, still in his black suit, gray dress shirt, and striped tie, crouching down to hug his kids. Smiling brightly, looking from one child to the next as they all babbled at him at the same time, Charles laughed and tried to make sense of the commotion.

  Something pinged in Lisette’s heart at the sight. He was always so handsome. It wasn’t fair. The only thing more attractive than a gorgeous man in a gorgeous suit was said gorgeousness being openly affectionate with his kids.

  Charles looked up at her from his crouch, flashing a friendly grin as he straightened up. “Good evening, Lisette. How were things today?”

  His deep, smooth voice set off butterflies in her belly. Between that sexy tone and his blue, blue eyes boring into her, her insides went all liquid and wobbly. “Fine,” she said, licking her suddenly dry lips. “Nothing unusual to report. School, gymnastics, swimming.” She glanced at the kids and said, “All three of you need to go upstairs for quick showers. Take turns; go fast. You can do it.”

  All three of them whined and moaned in protest.

  “Come on now,” Charles said. He ruffled Myles’s hair. “Ick. Chlorine hair. You need a shower, and you know it!”

  “But I’m starving!” Myles whined.

  “I know you’re all hungry,” she said to them. “But make them fast showers, get dressed even faster, and dinner will be ready and on the table when you come down, I promise. You know the routine. Go on.”

  “Last one up’s a rotten egg!” Thomas yelled, taking off like a shot. Myles and Ava shrieked and ran after him, the three of them racing up the stairs and down their hallway.

  Charles turned to Lisette, chuckling. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle in a way she adored. “Dinner is actually ready now, but I didn’t want to step on your routine. And they really needed showers. His hair felt disgusting!”

  Lisette only smiled and went to hang up her coat and scarf, and the kids’ coats, in the front closet. Just being near Charles had her hormones soaring. She had to stop this. She had to control this somehow.

  With a deep breath, she went back down the hall and saw Charles was waiting for her. “Is there something else?” she asked.

  He said quietly, “You’re talking to me. Even looking at me. You barely have in three days. This is progress.”

  She felt the blush rise in her face. “I—I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “Good. That’s how it should be.” He shot her a lopsided grin. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle, and it made her heart flutter. “Tina made tilapia with a pecan crust for dinner. Steamed broccoli, red potatoes. It all looks delicious. I think I’m going to open a bottle of wine to go with it. Would you like a glass?”

  She blinked, the question surprising her. “Um, no. No, thank you. I never drink when I’m with the children.”

  He nodded slowly, his eyes on her face. “And I appreciate that. But surely half a glass here at home wouldn’t be a problem, if you wanted? I’m here, after all. You don’t have to handle them all by yourself.”

  “I’d rather not,” she said. “Not while I’m working. But thank you anyway.”

  “Sure.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he said, “Come, let’s have dinner.” His brows lifted as he leaned in and said pointedly, “All of us, together, in the dining room. Don’t you dare take your plate to the kitchen to eat by yourself again. It’s not acceptable.”

  “But Charles—”

  “Stop. Every night, you eat with the kids. Right?”

  “Yes. But that’s because you’re rarely here. When you are, I shouldn’t be—”

  “Stop.” He took a step closer, his stare pinning her. “I’m asking you to join us. Just have dinner with us. That’s all.”

  Her throat felt thick, and her chest got tight. His presence engulfed her, overwhelmed her. He was so close, she could feel the heat radiating from his body, and it made her want to melt into him. But she said fir
mly, “Charles. I work for you.”

  “I’m well aware of that. I hired you.”

  “But I’m not . . . It’s like . . .” She groped for the right words, wanting to make her point, but not offend him. “Charles, it’s like you’re acting as if we’re all like a—a family. All having meals together, doing things together . . . I just don’t know that it’s appropriate. Or that it sends the right message to the kids.” She shook her head and stared back, lifting her hands, then dropping them in resignation.

  “Lisette,” Charles said, “you started here when Myles had just turned four. He was so young, and his mother was gone, and several other nannies had come and gone. He absolutely adores you. All the kids have become attached to you. And you’re a lovely person, so I’m okay with that.” His head cocked sideways as he studied her. “Didn’t you tell me that you became a nanny in the first place to experience something akin to family life?”

  Her breath caught. “That’s . . . that’s not . . .” Her heart raced. “You’ve hired me to play a mother, but I’m not their mother.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I didn’t say you were.”

  “It sounds like it. It feels like it.” Her hands fluttered at her sides as she pressed, “I’m not family. I’m hired help. And we’d all do better to remember that and not cross any lines that shouldn’t be crossed. I wouldn’t ever want them to be confused or hurt.”

  “Me neither,” he agreed. “Of course not. But I can tell that you love them. And Lisette, they love you. I can see it. And you’re allowed to have feelings!”

  She didn’t know what to say. Her breath felt stuck in her lungs.

  “I’m trying to tell you . . .” He scrubbed his hands over his jaw. She’d rarely seen him fumble for words. “I’m saying that your place in their life matters, and I respect it. I respect you.”

  It felt hard to breathe. She rubbed her sternum in tiny circles. God, did he have any idea what he was saying? How it all affected her? She doubted it.

  “More important,” he continued, taking another step closer, “I don’t think anyone who works for me is beneath me somehow. Not my house staff, not my office staff, no one. Why do you?” His tone turned inquisitive, almost pleading. “Have I ever done anything to make you feel that way? If I have, I’m sorry, because I don’t.”

  “You haven’t. But you’re not getting it,” she whispered miserably, her gaze falling away.

  He gripped her chin with his fingertips, soft but insistent, making her look into his eyes again and her breath catch and stick in her throat. In a low murmur, his face only inches from hers, he said, “I understand what you’re trying to get across. But I don’t agree. I think you’re . . . maybe overreacting a bit, because of what happened between us.”

  “Really?” she whispered, not breaking their gaze. “You ever talk to Tina or Eileen this way? Insist that they share meals with you? Touch them, at all, much less like you’re touching me right now? Look at them like you want to take them to bed?”

  As if jolted by a slap, he released her and stepped back, eyes wide.

  “Then added to the fact that you’re my boss how very wealthy and powerful you are,” she choked out. “We are not on the same level. Totally different worlds. You do have power over me.”

  “I don’t want to have power over you.”

  “That’s nice. But it doesn’t make it any less true.”

  His blue gaze intensified. “Lisette. I’m just a man. A human being. That’s all.”

  Her heart panged for him. His earnestness was palpable. But she said, “You just turned forty, you’re feeling your mortality, and you’re lonely. And I’m right here, in the house. How convenient.”

  His eyes flashed. “This is not about convenience,” he insisted, but his voice lowered to a hot whisper. “It’s not about that at all. It’s . . . more than that.”

  “Is it?” Her heart pounded in her chest. “Since when have you thought of me as anything but the nanny? Tell the truth.”

  “I’ve always thought of you fondly . . .”

  She stared at him. “Fondly? Charles, for once, don’t talk and act like the damned crown prince. Just talk to me.”

  He blinked, apparently stunned, then huffed out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Okay. I’ve always liked you. Always thought you were really pretty, but didn’t let it take over or anything. We’re both adults, both professionals. But, yes, since that night . . .” His stare heated to an all-out smolder, making her knees wobble and her stomach flutter. “Yes, okay, now I think of you differently. And what’s more, I think of you often. And it’s not platonic. All my money and power doesn’t change the fact that I’m just a normal man who’s lusting like hell after you. When you’re on my mind, I’m not thinking about my billions, or your assets . . . only your God-given assets.”

  Alarms tripped off in her head. The way he was looking at her . . . God, it was absolutely carnal. And hell yes, she wanted him again too. But if she went down this road with him, it couldn’t possibly end well. He stepped closer again, and her mouth went dry as her blood raced through her veins.

  “I want to kiss you again, touch you again, and I can’t,” he whispered. “I want to get you out of my head . . . and I can’t.”

  “You have to try harder,” she said, even as her heart pounded against her ribs.

  “Believe me, I’ve been trying.”

  He was so close now that if she leaned in only a few inches, they’d be kissing.

  “Dinner,” she said. “The kids are waiting. It’s dinnertime.”

  He just stared at her, and the air around them crackled with electricity.

  “That one night can’t change everything here,” she insisted in a desperate whisper. “It can’t, Charles.”

  His eyes bore into hers, blazing with heat. “But it already has. And we both know it.”

  Chapter Ten

  Later that night, Lisette glided soundlessly down the grand staircase. Tina had gone home at seven, the kids had all fallen asleep by ten, and the house was quiet. There was something about the stillness that settled over the mansion at night that Lisette loved. It was such a large and magnificent home; yet with the lights off, somehow the silence wasn’t cold or intimidating to her, but peaceful.

  Clutching her e-reader to her chest, she headed toward the den. The wide, soft loveseat by the window was a perfect spot to curl up and read, legs wrapped under the chenille throw, with only the light from her e-reader for illumination.

  And tonight, she needed that distraction. Her brain had been spinning wildly since Charles had told her he thought of her often, staring at her as if the world were on fire . . . only to have the conversation cut short by the shrieks of the kids as they came thundering down the stairs, ready for dinner. She’d jumped and pulled away from him quick as a flash, busying herself with the children.

  She’d had dinner with them, but had been barely able to look Charles in the eye. She’d helped the kids with their homework while Charles disappeared into his study to respond to a few calls and e-mails, then she had brought them up to their rooms. By the time they were in bed, Charles was upstairs too, helping her to tuck each of them in and kiss them good night. He was trying to be a better father, he really was, and it warmed her heart. But the truth was, he didn’t have to try very hard. He was sweet with them, attentive and present. His love for them was obvious. All they wanted from him was more of his time.

  She paused at the door of the den, peering further down the hallway. The door to the study was open, light pouring out into the corridor. Something in her wanted to tell him that he was doing well at this new stab at fatherhood. Like he’d said earlier, he was just a man, and all men needed assurance once in a while, didn’t they? A pat on the back, a “you got this!” affirmation? She chewed on her lip, debating, pulling the sash of her robe tighter around her waist.

  Don’t lie to yourself, a voice admonished in her head. You want more than to talk to him. You want to see him, be near him. Yo
u want to just be in his presence.

  Yes. Yes, she did. After what he’d admitted to her openly, she could admit that much to herself. Drawing a long, deep breath, she walked to the study.

  * * *

  Charles leaned back in his leather chair, pulled off his glasses, and rubbed his tired eyes. He’d put out the fires for the evening and wanted nothing more than to have a few sips of scotch and go to bed. He yawned and set his glasses down on the desk.

  A soft knock on the doorframe instantly drew his attention, and then his heart skipped a beat. Lisette stood there, wrapped in a dark purple robe. Her hair was still up in its braid, and her dark eyes and olive skin were luminous in the low light. She was so effortlessly beautiful.

  With a hesitant smile, she cleared her throat and said, “Hi.”

  “Hi.” He smiled and sat up straighter in his chair. This was a nice surprise. “Come on in.”

  She did, stopping in the middle of the room. He watched as her eyes flicked to the infamous couch before coming back to his face, then as she clutched her e-reader to her chest, fingertips skimming along the edges in an endearingly nervous gesture. The plush robe looked soft and flowed down past her knees, but from beneath revealed the bottoms of blue fleece pajama pants and . . . feet tucked into fluffy white slippers that looked like sheep.

  He couldn’t help but grin. “I like your slippers.”

  She glanced down at them as if she’d forgotten what they looked like, and her face flushed deeper. “Oh. Um. Thanks. Eileen got them for me last Christmas. They’re silly looking, but they’re really warm and cozy, so sometimes . . .”