‘I don’t need...’
‘No,’ he said softly. ‘But you deserve. You might not wish to accept it, though. Try it and see.’ And he took a folded slip of paper from his back pocket and handed it over.
She flicked it open and read it—and looked even more confused.
‘It’s...an airline ticket. Sydney to New York.’ She read the detail, looking increasingly bewildered. ‘First class. And there’s no date.’ She stared up at him. ‘Max, I can’t take this. I can’t...’
‘You can,’ he said gently. ‘But, before you accept or decline, you need to know there’s a catch. It’s not a freebie.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I need a childminder.’ And then, as she opened her mouth to tell him all the reasons that was a crazy idea, he held up his hand. ‘Give me a moment. Let me explain.’
What he really wanted was space, privacy to explain his carefully thought-out plan, but in this weird old house, surrounded by family and all the trappings of Christmas—and knowing his idea would never get off the ground without the enthusiasm of everyone—he needed to say it now.
‘You’re not a childminder.’ In truth, he wasn’t sure what she was—she’d stopped seeming like a cleaner and he didn’t have a job description to replace it with. ‘But you work for the most prestigious hotel in Sydney. Ruby says you value your job and wouldn’t want to lose it. So this morning I rang the manager. He was able to make an executive decision—and that decision is to grant you leave without pay for the next few weeks. I’ll make a donation to compensate them for the loss of someone who must surely rate as one of their best employees.’
She was staring at him as if he’d grown two heads. ‘You rang the manager? About me?’
‘I told him he has gold. I told him you’re astoundingly undervalued.’
‘No!’ She sounded panicked. ‘That’s my job. You can’t...’
‘Sunny, hear me out.’ His gaze met hers and held. He was willing reassurance into his gaze, confidence, trustworthiness—everything he most needed her to see. ‘Sunny, firstly I have not jeopardised your job in any way. That’s a promise. However, I have a proposition, and all I’ve done is make it possible for you to accept if you wish. Sunny, I’m intending to take Phoebe back to the States as soon as possible. There are bureaucratic issues but if Isabelle’s still insistent that she doesn’t want her then I can pull a legal team together and make things happen fast. So, for the next week or so, I’d ask that I base myself here. Ruby and John have already said we’re welcome. Then...’ he hesitated, because this was the biggie ‘...then I’d ask that you travel back to New York with me. I’d ask that you stay for a month. Help me settle her into a routine. And help me employ a nanny.’
‘Hey, that’s all work,’ Tom said, as Sunny stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. ‘Full-time childcare doesn’t sound like fun. We thought...’
‘That the deal was better than that?’ Max nodded. ‘I hope it is.’ Still Max was watching Sunny. ‘I have a large apartment overlooking Central Park. I also have a housekeeper. Eliza will cook and clean and I’m sure she’ll also take care of Phoebe for a few hours each day. Sunny, you’ll have time off to explore New York. You’ll also have an open-ended credit card, to see shows, museums, to shop...’
‘You’re giving her an open-ended credit card to shop?’ Chloe squeaked, full of little-sister glee. ‘Sunny, you could...’
‘Shop for Sunny,’ Max said firmly, grinning as he saw where Chloe’s mind was headed. ‘Any size fifteen basketball boots or clubbing heels meant for...oh, maybe a fashion student won’t get past my eagle-eyed inspection.’ And then he looked at Sunny and he glanced again at Phoebe’s Mr Sock. ‘But it won’t be very eagle-eyed. Sunny, I want you to have fun and I know gifts would give you pleasure.’
But Sunny was still looking thunderstruck. ‘Max, I can’t. You know I can’t. This is...’
‘A cruel offer if I didn’t mean it,’ he agreed. ‘But I do mean it. My housekeeper’s part-time. She can take care of Phoebe a little but not for full days. I need to get back to work and Phoebe needs a constant until I can find her a nanny. I have no idea what to look for in a good nanny but I suspect you do. And, before you hit me with all the other reasons you can’t come, your grandparents and brothers and sisters and I have been talking.’
‘What, all of you?’
‘Serially, not in a bunch,’ Tom said gleefully. ‘Wait till you hear, Sun.’
‘It’s awesome,’ Chloe added but he shook his head to silence both of them. Once again he wished he could take her somewhere private. The look on her face was worrying him. She looked...terrified.
‘It’s okay,’ he said gently. ‘No one’s bullying you. But your grandparents tell me January is holiday month in Australia. The universities are closed, which means Chloe and Tom are staying here. That means they can help your grandparents at night. But they also have holiday jobs. Tom’s pulling beer at the local pub and Chloe’s working retail at the Christmas sales. They tell me they need the jobs for the family to survive, but I’ve offered them alternatives. The plan is for them to quit and stay here.’
‘And help Gran take care of Pa, and work in the garden and even paint the letter box,’ Chloe announced. ‘Though why the letter box seems important...’ She grinned, shrugged and continued. ‘No matter. We’ll be doing everything you usually do, Sunny, only more because it’ll be our full-time job, and the truly amazing thing is that Max will pay. He’s offered what we were getting as a holiday job plus fifty per cent. Fifty per cent! Oh, plus the work on Tom’s teeth. He must really want you, Sunny. He must think you’re as awesome as we do.’
‘But I’m not awesome,’ Sunny said in a small voice. ‘I’m...’ She faltered and shook her head. ‘New York...’ She said it as if it was outer space.
‘Will you come?’
‘You’d spend all that money on me?’ She glanced at Tom then, at the gap where he’d fallen skateboarding and broken a tooth. ‘On us?’
‘I’m rich in my own right,’ he said gently. ‘But my father was obscenely rich and I’ll use his money if it’ll make you feel better. This is about Phoebe. His daughter deserves the best care money can buy.’
‘I’m not even trained.’
‘I can’t believe you can say that. Your family seems to think you almost single-handedly raised them. You coped on your own for years, and if that’s not training in childcare I don’t know what is.’
‘You can get the best...’
‘I know the best when I see it. You’re the best.’
She stared at him and then stared wildly at Ruby. ‘Gran...’
And Gran grinned. ‘My mother used to tell me never to look a gift horse in the mouth and if Max isn’t a gift horse I don’t know what is. Just say yes.’
‘A gift horse...’ She practically choked.
‘Exactly.’ Ruby beamed. ‘And Max promised that your ticket’s open-ended so you can come home any time you need.’ She was suddenly stern. ‘So if this apartment isn’t big enough to be separate and if you feel you’re being pushed...to do anything you’re not happy with...’
‘She means if he pushes you to be his mistress,’ Tom said, leering evilly, and Daisy kicked him.
‘She mightn’t mind being his mistress,’ Chloe added and moved out of the range of Daisy’s feet fast.
But Sunny wasn’t noticing. To say she looked stunned would be an understatement.
‘So agree,’ Ruby said, beaming. ‘And then we can all take a nice nap and then get on with filling the pavlovas for tea.’
‘I can’t...’
‘You can’t take it all in,’ Max said swiftly. The last thing he wanted was a panicked no. ‘Think about it and we’ll talk later. Then you can tell me your qualms and I can tell you the ways I’ve solved them.’
‘What a hero,’ Daisy
said and grinned and the whole family was grinning—apart from Sunny.
‘I’m not a hero,’ Max said. ‘I’m an ordinary guy who needs help.’
‘An ordinary billionaire with a baby,’ Chloe added. ‘Go for it, our Sunny. You might just have a ball.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHRISTMAS TEA. Leftovers and pavlova. It was her favourite meal of the year, Sunny thought, but this year she hardly tasted it.
As the tea things were cleared, yet another basketball session was mooted. Once again Sunny stayed on the sidelines. In truth she’d never learned to toss a hoop—she’d never seemed to have time—but she loved watching them.
But now she was watching Max have fun with her family. She was watching the kids fall under his spell and she thought, That’s what it is. A spell.
He had her mesmerised and it scared her. His proposition scared her.
When she heard Phoebe fussing again it was almost a relief. She slipped away from the game, gathered the baby in her arms and carried her out onto the path leading up to the hills beyond.
This was a suburban setting but bushland had been preserved. There were parrots in the flowering gums that lined the streets, squawking a cacophony that was almost a part of her. The houses were all set well back, with trees between street and house. Discreet Christmas tableaux decorated the yards but the streets were deserted. The tableaux seemed almost out of place now that Christmas was done.
But was Christmas done? She walked and crooned as Phoebe fussed and she thought about Max’s extraordinary gift. She really thought about it.
What she needed to do, she decided, was to take Max out of the equation. Because her first thought as she’d opened the envelope and seen the tickets was... He wants to take me to New York.
Which was a dumb thing to think. He wanted to hand Phoebe over and for some reason he’d decided he could trust her.
He had the money to pay whatever it took. So why not go?
New York...
She’d never been on an aeroplane. She’d never even managed to get interstate.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
So take it.
It scared her.
Why? She’d faced down many things in her life—her mother’s drunken rages, desertion, loss, far too much responsibility. She’d coped with everything and she hadn’t flinched. She prided herself on her strength. Indeed, sometimes it was the only thing she had to cling to.
So why was she scared?
She knew why. It was because of her initial reaction to those tickets. Because she’d suddenly thought, He wants me. The thought had been fleeting, short-lived, ridiculous, but it had her deeply unsettled.
She thought of Tom’s youthful teasing. Mistress...
What would it be like to be whisked off by a man like Max, ensconced in luxury, cosseted, cared for, indulged...
And held...
There was the crux of the matter. The sweet but poisonous hub.
To be held by such a man. To feel her body sink into his. To be cherished...
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, go buy yourself a romance novel,’ she muttered. ‘Meanwhile, think of this proposition sensibly. It’s a business proposal. There’s nothing personal about it.’
Phoebe had settled. She was sleeping, a tiny warm being cradled against her breast. That was a siren song too. Babies...
Stop it, stop it, stop it. She gave herself a hard mental shake and turned her feet to home.
And Max was striding towards her in the dusk.
Max.
‘Stop it,’ she muttered again, because her heart was starting to race and it had no business racing. She had to be sensible.
‘I’m heading home,’ she managed. ‘There was no need...’
‘There was a need.’ He smiled and, oh, that smile...
Stop it!
‘You should have told me,’ he said reprovingly. ‘She’s my responsibility. You agreed to help me, not take over entirely.’
‘I needed a walk to clear my head.’
‘While you think about New York?’
‘I can’t think about New York. The idea’s crazy. We’ve given you two days board and lodging. You don’t need to repay us with the world.’
‘Like with like,’ he told her. ‘You made Phoebe’s Mr Sock.’
‘Yes, but...’
‘And it took you, what, an hour? Plus the thought that went into it beforehand. Tomorrow I’ll ring up my father’s favoured lawyer. He’s a Queen’s Counsel. Have you any idea how much such a man demands as an hourly rate?’
‘What’s that got to do with me?’ She tried to walk past him but he put his hand on her arm and stopped her.
‘Sunny, value yourself,’ he said urgently. ‘Give yourself a treat. Believe me when I tell you it’ll cost me so little I won’t notice.’
And she gazed up at him and realised it really did mean nothing. Handing over first class air tickets, a credit card with no limit, a month in New York for a cleaning lady...
Her thoughts were racing.
Nothing.
Phoebe stirred in her arms and she thought of how easily had Max accepted her. There’d been initial panic but now... He was doing the right thing. He’d take his half-sister back to New York. He’d take Sunny with him to make the transition as easy as possible. Then he’d install a nanny and life would resume its rightful pattern.
He’d be nice to his little sister, she decided, because she’d figured that was what Max was. Nice. Honourable even. He’d do the right thing.
But this man’s reputation had come before him. He was an international businessman with fingers in a thousand financial pies. Max had kept below the radar of most of the gossip columnists but the fact that the hotel management bowed and scraped told its own story, and there was enough interest in him to know he was solitary. Aloof.
So yes, he’d care for Phoebe—but would he notice? Would he still walk alone?
She glanced down at Phoebe, at this tiny face still wrinkled from birth. She thought of Phoebe’s appalling mother.
And then she thought of her own family, her brothers and sisters, and the fight she’d had to keep them close.
Who would love Phoebe?
Who would fight for Phoebe?
And suddenly the money didn’t make sense, the first class flights, the month in New York, the limitless credit card. What made sense was this little life she was holding.
He was still holding her arm. Pressuring her?
Two could play at that game. She tilted her chin and met his gaze full-on.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I accept. On one condition.’
‘Which is?’ He sounded bemused, as well he might. How many women in her place would have imposed a condition? But this was her only chance.
No, it was Phoebe’s only chance.
‘I’ll do it if you take the month off.’
His brows snapped together. ‘Sorry?’
‘The month I’m there. Yes, I’ll come and yes, I’ll care for Phoebe. But this housekeeper you say will babysit while I spend your credit card... Does she like babies? Is she kind?’
‘I have no idea,’ he said honestly. ‘But if that doesn’t work we can hire...’
‘We can’t hire,’ she said flatly. ‘That’s the condition. That I come and help, but for the next month her main carer is you. I understand you’ll need to do some work but there are home computers and telephones and I’ll be in the background. As far as I can see, you’re the only person who can possibly learn to love her, so that’s what I’m demanding. That you care. I won’t stand back and watch as you hand responsibility over to people you hire, at least not until you’ve figured whether you can love her or not. So there’s my line in the sand. We both care for yo
ur baby for a month or I don’t come. Take it or leave it, Max Grayland, but that’s my final word.’
There was a long silence. A very long silence.
Max’s hand was still on her arm. They seemed linked in a way she didn’t understand, but she needed to focus.
What sort of idiot imposed conditions when faced with such an incredible offer? Max’s face said it all. He looked stunned. Incredulous. Was there also the beginnings of anger?
‘You think I won’t look after her?’ he demanded at last and she shook her head.
‘You’ve just proved that you’ll look after her with every cent your fortune can provide. But will you love her?’
‘She’s nothing to do with me,’ he snapped. ‘She’s my father’s child.’ And yet he paused as if he realised what he’d said. My father’s child. Family?
‘She’s a person,’ Sunny said, knowing what was at stake here. ‘If you intend taking responsibility for her, then surely your life should change. You think you can buy her care? From the sound of things, that’s what happened to you. Is that what you want for Phoebe?’
‘What happened to me has nothing to do with anything.’ It was practically an explosion.
‘Doesn’t it? Did you have Christmases like we have? How many people would you break your heart over, Max Grayland? I watched you as you struggled to think of your dad’s eulogy and I thought I’ve never seen someone so alone in my life. Is that what you want for Phoebe?’
‘No. But I can’t take a month off.’
‘Really? How many new parents don’t take any time off to learn to love their little one? You’ve just had a new baby. You need to accept it.’
‘She’s not my baby. And this is...’
‘None of my business,’ she retorted. ‘No, it’s not.’ She took a deep breath and stepped back from his touch, from his anger, from his pressure. And then she made a decision.
She stepped forward again and, before he knew what she intended, she’d folded Phoebe into his arms. She simply pressed the baby to his chest, waited until his arms closed involuntarily on the sleeping bundle, and then she stepped back.
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