by Nina Croft
His body was hard against her. How long had it been since she’d been in a man’s arms? Not since before she’d been locked up. His scent, his closeness, the wine she’d had…all mingled, and for a moment, she gave in to the lure of that physical connection she’d craved and relaxed against him.
He must have sensed her surrender, because his hands slid down to her ass and he pulled her closer. He was already hard, his erection nudging her, and things twisted low in her belly.
She had to move.
Get out of there.
This wasn’t supposed to be happening. But somehow her hands slid up over his chest and gripped his shoulders. They weren’t dancing, just swaying to the music, causing a delicious friction between their bodies, so her breasts tingled, and a little pulse throbbed between her thighs.
He stopped moving.
She wanted to scream. But what? Before she could decide, he released her, stepped back, and pulled a phone out of his pocket. He glanced at the screen.
“Shit,” he muttered, then looked into her face. “Sorry. It’s my babysitter. I have to leave.”
She cleared her throat, thoughts of Lulu jolting her into awareness. “Is something wrong?”
“No, just a family thing.” He appeared about to say something, but then gave a small shake of his head. “It was nice dancing with you.”
“Yeah.” Really nice.
And then he was gone. She watched his back, his tight ass, and broad shoulders until he disappeared.
“Well, did you introduce yourself?” Regan asked from behind her.
She hugged her cardigan closer around herself. “No.”
“Girl, you are in so much trouble.”
“I know.”
“But you know what?” Regan said, her tone so jovial Darcy had to fight the urge to shove her borrowed cardigan down her best friend’s throat. “Tomorrow is another day.”
Darcy’s shoulders drooped. Because tomorrow had the potential to be so much worse.
Chapter Two
Matt stood outside the club. He had half a mind to call his best friends, Gary and Angie—his babysitters for the night—back and tell them he was staying. But they’d set up the phone call so he could get away early. While he’d felt he had to come tonight, he hadn’t wanted to stay long, and certainly hadn’t wanted to stand around and watch the rest of the group get steadily inebriated as the evening went on.
But he hadn’t counted on the girl.
As soon as he’d walked through the door, he’d sensed her watching him. He’d searched the room and found her straight away. And he had no clue why. She wasn’t his usual type. At least, he reckoned she wasn’t, but hell if he could remember. It had been so long that he didn’t know if he even had a type anymore. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been with a woman. What he did know was—it had been before Lulu came into his life.
But something about this one had drawn him. There was an intensity about her. Something in the way she’d stared had intrigued him. She’d been interesting rather than beautiful, her dark eyes a contrast to her platinum blond hair.
And he was probably better off out of it.
He didn’t need complications in his life right now. But he could still feel her body against his. She’d been lean without the softness he’d expect from a woman. But his dick had liked the feel of her. And now, just the memory made him twitch. He half turned to go back in, but at that moment, a cab came around the corner and his hand lifted automatically.
Thirty minutes later, he let himself into the house. It was quiet, which sort of amazed him and worried him in equal amounts.
Gary and Angie were old mates from his early army days. They’d all enlisted together. Angie had joined as an alternative to a stay in a young offenders’ institute. Gary had signed up because even at the early age of seventeen, he’d already realized that he loved blowing things up and was good at it. If Matt got the position he was aiming for in the new unit, he was hoping Gary could be appropriated. Gary was a sergeant and had been busted down to corporal more times than Matt could remember. Angie had left the army a few years back—she couldn’t take being told what to do by a bunch of arseholes. Now she ran an advanced driving school, teaching bodyguards and the like how to make a fast getaway.
He was aware they both saw him as some sort of success story. Someone from the ranks making it to officer status, blurring the lines that had once been unpassable. A hope that the arseholes wouldn’t always be in charge—that was how Angie had put it. They wanted him to succeed almost more than he wanted it himself. Gary had offered his babysitting skills so Matt could make an appearance tonight—he reckoned Matt needed to mix more with the other officers. And he’d volunteered Angie’s help because after all, she was a girl, and everyone knew girls loved kids. Except Angie.
As Matt stepped into the sitting room, they were both seated on the sofa, dazed looks on their faces, surrounded by chaos. It was a look he was familiar with from previous babysitters. And nannies. And really, anyone who came into contact with his niece. Angie was a pretty brunette and usually as tough as shit, but she’d obviously met her match with Lulu.
He cleared his throat and they both jumped.
“Did everything go okay?” he asked when they remained silent.
“Define ‘okay,’” Gary said.
“Nobody died?” Did he sound hopeful?
Gary snorted. “I like your definition. And don’t worry, your little angel is fine.”
Matt almost smiled at the description, but not quite. Sadly, Lulu was as far from an angel as it was possible to get. Matt knew little about children, but he was pretty sure that if they were all like Lulu, the human race would have died out long ago.
“She’s a monster,” Angie said, getting to her feet and wiping her hands down her jeans. “She never stops. She’s the Terminator crossed with the Energizer Bunny. Never again.”
He listened for any sounds from upstairs. “She’s stopped now.”
“Gary bribed her.”
“What with?”
“My chocolate.”
“She’s not allowed chocolate.”
“Hah. You don’t get to make the rules if you’re not here.” She grinned. “I may have also promised her a puppy.”
Christ, that was bad news. Lulu had become fixated on dogs after meeting a very friendly Alsatian in the park last weekend. He didn’t like to think of the chaos Lulu and a puppy could make of his once-orderly life.
“Come on,” Angie said to Gary. “Let’s get out while it’s safe.”
“You need a wife,” Gary said.
They’d both made the suggestion before. A good, respectable woman, who would make his chaotic life run smoothly, and cozy up to the other officer’s wives. Make him fit in. They’d even come up with a list of possible candidates, including his commanding officer’s daughter. That was never going to happen.
“Actually, no sane woman would put up with this,” Angie scoffed. “He needs a prison warden. And maybe a padded cell.”
He wanted to defend Lulu but somehow couldn’t make the lies come out of his mouth.
It was probably his fault—he’d hardly provided an ideal home life for his niece. Lulu deserved better than what he was giving her. Especially after what happened to her parents.
He rubbed a hand across his scalp. He’d tried, but six nannies in eighteen months did not give continuity. And his job took him away for extended periods of time. And that would only get worse if he got this new position. And he wanted that position, had been working toward it for years. Jesus, his life was out of control and he hated that.
Gary punched him on the shoulder as he went out. “Good luck tomorrow.”
He hopefully wouldn’t need luck. The job—field command for a brand new, quick-response anti-terrorist unit—was just about his, and this last assessment a mere formality. He hoped.
After closing the door behind them, he leaned back against it. Maybe he did need a wife. For some reason, an
image of the blonde from the club flashed up in his mind. But if he did go that route, he’d have to think with his head, not his dick.
In the meantime, he had a new nanny starting in the morning. She was expensive and came with the highest of recommendations. The agency assured him she had experience with difficult children. He hated the idea of Lulu being labeled as difficult so early on in her life, but apparently six nannies said otherwise.
He returned to the living room and methodically put everything away. He hated mess. Always had. The kitchen next—it looked like one of Gary’s bombs had gone off.
Finally, everything was in its proper place and he headed up the stairs.
He opened the door just a crack and peered inside. Lulu was asleep in her cot bed, her blond hair splayed out across her pillow. As if sensing his presence, she rolled over in her sleep. He held his breath, but she just made a noise that sounded like “Woof” and settled again. Was she dreaming of puppies?
Chocolate was smeared all over her face and various other surfaces. He had an almost uncontrollable urge to go clean her up, but he knew from experience that if she woke now, she wouldn’t sleep again. At least not for a long time.
She would have to wait until morning. And the new nanny. God, he hoped this one worked out.
…
Darcy jumped off the bus. She hadn’t felt up to driving in the rush hour traffic. Her hands were shaking. Christ, she hadn’t felt this nervous since… In fact, she’d never felt this nervous. Not even before a major MMA tournament. Back then, she’d had the buzz of adrenaline, she’d felt alive. Now she just felt sick.
Summer had crept into her bedroom in the early hours and laid an outfit on the bed. She was wearing it now, and—like last night’s dress—it was not her typical style. But they were following a plan here. A plan she hadn’t been happy about, but which Summer and Regan had assured her was her best bet for success.
“We love you just the way you are,” Regan had said. “But you can come across a little bit scary.”
“First impressions are so important,” Summer added. “Just get through that first meeting, and after that, once he’s got to know what a truly…nice person you are, then it won’t matter. He’ll see past the…” She waved a hand in Darcy’s general direction.
Darcy disliked pretense of any kind. But she was willing to bow to their better judgment. So today she was wearing a black pencil skirt, a white button-down blouse that covered her tattoos, and luckily, black flats. So at least she could walk. Her hair needed cutting, and without gel it flopped onto her forehead. It gave her a softer look. She’d left off her nose stud and wore small hoops in her ears. Her fingernails were unpolished, free of her usual black varnish. She looked…hopefully nice.
“And smile,” Regan had said.
“Try not to look so fierce,” Summer suggested.
She growled, and then smiled through gritted teeth, which made Summer giggle. She was so goddamned happy, and she wanted Darcy to be happy as well. Whatever it took.
Lastly, she had a black bag slung over her shoulder, which contained the report on her brother-in-law.
She had the address memorized. From the information Nate had collected, she knew Captain Matt usually left the house at nine o’clock. It was half past eight, but maybe she’d get lucky and find him already gone.
Don’t be a wimp.
She paused outside the gate and studied the house. It was smart. In a nice neighborhood; the sort of place where families lived. A semi-detached, with a red door and a small, neat garden out front. A boring house.
After wiping her hands down her skirt, she pushed open the gate and walked slowly up the driveway. At the front door, she took a deep breath—I can do this—and pressed the bell.
It sounded somewhere inside the house, and she heard footsteps coming her way. She swallowed and gritted her teeth.
Whatever it takes.
The door opened. And there he was, and her heart started racing.
She’d never gone for the military type. She didn’t like the clean-cut look. But Captain Mathew Peterson, in uniform, looked like some sort of fantasy guy. For the first time, she had an inkling of sympathy for her sister. She’d never understood her infatuation with Steven Peterson, but if he’d had half the charisma of his brother, it was at least a little understandable.
He was staring at her with narrowed eyes. “It’s you.” He shook his head then opened the door wider. “Did you know who I was last night?” Not waiting for her to answer, he gestured for her to enter. “I’m guessing not. It doesn’t matter. Come in.”
She stood for a moment, having absolutely no clue what was happening.
“Ms. Prescott, isn’t it? Are you going to stand there all day? You’re late, which means I’m late. Even though your agency phoned, I can’t have this becoming a habit. I like punctuality.”
At that moment, a wail and a bang came from inside the house.
“Shit.” He turned and strode down the hallway.
Darcy stared after him for a few seconds and then followed him into the house. She was getting an inkling of what was going on. Obviously, he’d mistaken her for a nanny or a babysitter or something. What sort of man left a two-year-old with someone they’d never met before?
He disappeared through a door and the wail came again. “Lulu wants Matt.” The words were followed by a loud banging.
Whoa.
Darcy stopped short, her heart racing even faster. That was her niece in there, who she’d never seen before. The child was her only link to Emma. She gnawed on her lower lip. She should have introduced herself. But he’d hardly given her a chance. Now she couldn’t resist; she just had to see for herself.
She took the last few steps and stood in the doorway. Her gaze fixed on the toddler strapped in the highchair across from her. She’d been expecting a baby, but Lulu was a little girl. And the moment Darcy’s gaze landed on her, the world shifted and then stopped. When it started again, it was changed forever. This child was her only family. She’d seen photos of herself at the same age, and the resemblance was uncanny. Without a hint of childish chubbiness, Lulu had pale blond hair, a pointed chin, and dark eyes, slightly tilted—like Darcy’s. Darcy was one-quarter Japanese, thanks to her maternal grandfather. He was the one who had introduced her to martial arts; he’d had a friend who ran a dojo. He’d first taken Darcy there at the age of four, when she’d apparently been driving her mother crazy with all her excess energy. Darcy had loved it and never looked back.
“Matt not go!” The words were accompanied by more banging—the plastic dish on the wooden table top—it was full of some sort of yellow gunge which splattered onto the table and the floor and Lulu.
“You know I have to, Lulu. But I’ll be back soon.”
“Nooooo!”
Darcy resisted the urge to put her hands over her ears. How could so much noise come out of something so small?
He ignored it, crossed the room, and picked up a briefcase.
“Matt!” Lulu’s face was screwing up now, everything crumpling. She threw her spoon. It hit him in the chest, then fell to the floor. He picked it up automatically, placed it in the sink, and wiped the yellow gunk from his jacket with the air of a man who’d done it many times before. Lulu dropped the bowl, her little hands formed into fists, and she thumped the table, screaming.
Seriously impressive.
Matt ignored it. How could he be so heartless?
He came to a halt in front of her. “I’d meant to show you the house,” he said. “But I really am late. But I’m sure you can cope—the agency said you’re the best. So just find your way around. I’ve left notes as to what she eats and her schedule over there.” He waved at a counter, then without another word, he was gone.
She heard the front door bang.
For a second there was silence and she exhaled. Was the worst over?
Then the little girl glared at her, opened her mouth, and screamed again. Louder this time.
; What the hell was she supposed to do? Before prison, the idea of a children had never entered her head—probably because she’d never come close to meeting a man she wanted that sort of commitment with. Since she’d gotten out, she’d bought a couple of books on babies but hadn’t read them. It had seemed too much like tempting fate. Which all meant…she knew nothing.
Lulu screamed again. Her face was turning puce. Surely that couldn’t be healthy.
“Maaaatt!”
Darcy put her hands on her hips, faced off against her niece, and roared, “Quiet!”
Lulu went silent. She blinked. Opened her mouth. Closed it again.
Darcy took a tentative step closer. Then another. It was stupid to be scared of something so small. Really stupid.
“Hello, Lulu, I’m your Aunt Darcy.”
And the screaming started again.
…
He’d been in meetings all day.
And the results were not all good.
First off, they’d offered him a desk job with the unit. He didn’t want a crappy desk job. He’d been in on this project from the start. It was understood—he was to be second-in-command in charge of the field operations. Out there with them. In the field. Not behind a desk. His commanding officer had pointed out that those plans had been before his change in circumstances.
Lulu.
He’d replied that his “change in circumstance” made no difference. He had finally convinced them he was up for the job, and they’d promised it was his. But he needed to get his house in order. It had been noted that he’d taken more time off than was normal. They’d allowed him compassionate leave while he sorted things out after his brother’s death, but the general consensus of opinion was…things should have been sorted by now.
He’d been based in the UK for that time, but working long hours setting up the new unit and the inevitable trips abroad always seemed to take longer than his nannies expected.
They didn’t sign up for 24-7, one of them had told him as she handed in her notice.
Christ, he hoped this one lasted.