Nanny for the Millionaire's Twins

by Susan Meier

  But she took another step away from him and he knew that even if he’d gotten through it didn’t matter. She had commitments she wouldn’t break.

  It nagged at him. As she slept on a chair in Sam’s room that night, Chance stood by the window, staring out. Snow twinkled in the streetlights that illuminated the cars in the parking lot.

  He couldn’t figure out if Tory was being torn apart or managing to straddle two worlds. One world, her life with Jason, was sad. Probably empty. The world she shared with him was filled with laughter and noise.

  He supposed they probably balanced out—for her.

  For him, there was a perpetual what if. A promise of something wonderful that teased him, even as it reminded him there could never be anything more.

  He walked to his chair, sat down and rubbed his hands down his face. The really sad part about this was he knew Tory’s loyalty to her fiancé was part of what drew him. Take away that loyalty and would she be the same woman?

  Yes.

  Because the time had long passed since her debt, her commitment, to her fiancé had been paid. And in his heart he knew that no man would want a woman to stand by his impotent body year after year to keep a commitment that could no longer be honored.

  And the more he got to know Tory, the more he felt for her, the more he wondered if Fate hadn’t tossed her in his path to tempt her back to her real life.

  Not that he thought he was any wonderful temptation when they’d first met. But what they had now was.

  How could he tell her so that she’d listen?

  They’d already had this conversation once and she’d blown him off.

  Should he try again?

  Or should he pray that what he’d already said would someday sink in?

  * * *

  They brought Sam home from the hospital the following day. The second they entered the cottage, Cindy began to squawk. Thinking she was tired of Cook and missing him, Chance raced over and took her from Cook’s arms.

  But Cindy kept squawking.

  Until Tory walked over with sleeping Sam.

  Cindy patted his face and cooed and Cook gasped. “Isn’t that adorable? She missed him.”

  “I never thought about it,” Chance said, as he held Cindy close enough to pat Sam. “But I don’t think they’ve ever spent a day apart.”

  “She wasn’t fussy last night,” Cook said. “Slept like an angel. But this morning she was crazy.”

  “She missed her brother,” Tory agreed. “But right now we need to get him into his crib.”

  Chance caught her gaze. “Maybe we could put them down for a nap together.”

  She smiled and nodded. “It would give them a sense of normalcy.”

  They put sleeping Sam into his crib and Cindy in her crib and that seemed to be enough for Cindy who settled in to sleep.

  Chance headed to the door but instead of following him, Tory took a seat on one of the rockers.

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  “I just want to sit here for a while.”

  Chance sighed. “I know you’re tired. If nothing else your muscles are probably cramped from sleeping in that chair. Why don’t you just—”

  She settled on the rocker. “I’m fine.”

  “Tory, we’ve got the baby monitor on. And our bedrooms are two feet away. You get a shower first. I’ll take one second—”

  She shook her head. “I want to stay here.”

  He closed his eyes, then headed out.

  He didn’t have to have the conversation with her about her loyalty. If she wouldn’t leave a sleeping baby who’d gotten a clean bill of health, she’d never even consider leaving Jason.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  VALENTINE’S DAY ARRIVED with Artic temperatures and a burst of snow. Chance reluctantly rolled out from under his warm covers to the sound of icy precipitation pelleting his bedroom window.

  One of the twins squawked and he paused, listening more closely. But he didn’t hear anything except Sam’s squeals and Cindy’s soft crying.

  Tory must not be up yet.

  He rubbed his hands together with glee. That was perfect. He might not be able to love Tory the way he wanted, but he did love her and there was no way in hell he would let her go through a Valentine’s Day without letting her know she was special.

  He sneaked into the nursery in stocking feet and put a finger over his lips, silently telling the twins to settle down.

  “We don’t want to wake Tory.”

  Cindy cocked her head. Sam frowned.

  “Come on. I can change you both without either one of you crying, if nobody gets impatient.”

  Knowing Cindy was the quieter crier, he changed Sam first, then Cindy, and carried both to the kitchen and put them into the highchairs.

  He quickly threw together a pot of coffee and started searching for a frying pan. After retrieving one from the lower cupboard, he set it on the stove, dropped in a lump of butter and headed to the refrigerator for eggs.

  Sam squealed.

  He pivoted to face him. “Hey, we’re making Tory a surprise breakfast in bed. You’ll get fed when she gets fed.”

  Sam’s squeal became a squawk.

  He laughed. “You will not die if you have to wait five minutes for your food.”

  As bread toasted, he made enough scrambled eggs for Tory, himself and two babies.

  Sam began pounding on his highchair tray.

  “Shh! I need five more minutes at most. Surely, you can give me five minutes.”

  Sam growled. Chance laughed as he went in search of a bed table and the rose he’d bought the night before and hidden in his room.

  With two plates of eggs and toast on the bed table along with a red stuffed bear and a slim vase with the one red rose, he turned to get the babies. His eyes narrowed.

  How was he going to carry two kids and a bed table?

  Inspiration struck and he got the stroller. He tucked the babies inside. Carrying the tray in one hand, he pushed the stroller with the other.

  At her door, he knocked lightly. “Tory?”

  He waited a few seconds but heard nothing. So he knocked again. This time he heard, “Oh, my God! I’m sorry. I slept in!”

  “Don’t worry about it. Are you decent?”

  Silence. Then, sounding confused, she said, “I’m in pajamas.”

  “Great.” With a quick push, he opened the door and strolled in the babies.

  “We brought you breakfast in bed—” He stopped. She lay on her pillows with her covers tucked under her neck. “I thought you were decent?”

  “I am. But I’m confused. Why would you bring me breakfast in bed?”

  “Because it’s Valentine’s Day.”

  Panic flitted across her face. She tightened her grip on the covers at her chin.

  He quickly said, “None of this is from me. It’s from the babies.”

  Sam squeaked. Cindy giggled.

  “And they are really hungry and my arm is breaking.”

  Her face softened. She pushed her covers aside and walked to the stroller. Stooping in front of the kids she said, “You did that for me?”

  “Yes. They did this. All by themselves. For you. But if you get out of bed, then it’s all wasted.”

  She turned and scrambled under the covers again. He set the bed table across her lap, then he got the kids.

  As he placed Cindy on the bed beside Tory, she picked up the bear. “There’s a bear.”

  He turned away to get Sam. “The kids picked that out too. You said everybody should have a bear family. They decided it was time to start yours.”

  He plopped Sam on the bed. He headed straight for the tray.

  Chance caught him by the pajama bottoms and hauled him back. “Hey, mind your manners.”

  Tory laughed.

  Chance said, “You feed Cindy. I’ll feed Sam.”

  She nodded, picked up a fork and eased a bite of scrambled eggs into the little girl’s mouth. “Thank you for the breakfast in bed.
”

  Cindy grinned.

  “And the bear.”

  Sam yelped.

  Chance said, “Don’t think you’re stealing that.”

  Sam squealed and Chance silenced him with a forkful of scrambled eggs. He smacked his lips greedily.

  Feeding Cindy, Tory nibbled on a piece of toast and Chance relaxed. She liked the Valentine’s treat from the kids. He hadn’t overstepped any boundaries. Yet he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do. No woman who was as loved as she was should be ignored on Valentine’s Day.

  She patted the bed beside her and caught his gaze. “Sit. You can’t feed him standing up like that.”

  He lifted Sam from the bottom of the bed and took a cautious step toward the top as she lifted the bed table off her lap and scooted across the bed to the other side.

  He sat, settled Sam on his lap and then adjusted the pillow behind his back. With the tray between them, he smiled at Tory. “Thanks.”

  Her gaze dipped, then she seemed to gather her courage and she looked at him again. “No. Thank you.”

  “What? Me? The twins did all this. I just had to reach into the cupboards for the high stuff.”

  She laughed.

  Cindy patted the bed table, obviously asking for another bite. Chance gave Sam a forkful of eggs before he reached for one of the slices of toast.

  “There’s coffee in the kitchen. I didn’t want to risk spilling it on your bed.”

  Tory chuckled. “Good idea.”

  Chance settled against the headboard. The kids were happy. He was ecstatic. And Tory looked comfortable. Happy. Happier than he’d ever seen her. He’d saved her from a disastrous Valentine’s Day.

  The house phone on the night table beside Tory trilled. Balancing Cindy across her thighs, she hit speaker.

  “Cook?”

  “Um. No, darling, it’s me, Gwen.”

  “Hey, Gwen! Do you want to talk to Chance? He’s right here. I have the phone on speaker.”

  “No. I just called because I sent visitors down to the cottage.”

  Chance said, “Visitors? At seven in the morning?”

  “It’s Jason’s parents, darling. They need to talk to Tory.”

  Tory froze.

  Chance said, “Thanks, Mom.”

  He clicked off the speaker function and wrestled with a long string of curses. Of all the days or times for Jason’s parents to decide to check out her job, this was the worst.

  He rolled off the bed, taking Sam with him. “I’ll carry the kids to the nursery.”

  She rolled out on the other side. “I’ll take the bed table to the kitchen.”

  Already around to her side of the bed, he grabbed Cindy from her arms. She reached for the tray table and the red bear bumped her hand.

  She glanced up at Chance. He looked down at her. They both knew who’d gotten her the bear, who’d made the breakfast. And they both knew why.

  She eased the bear off the tray and dropped it to the bed.

  Then he raced to the nursery and she raced out to the kitchen.

  He heard the knock on the door and, suddenly, he couldn’t let her face Jason’s parents alone. Yes, everybody was still in his or her respective pajamas. But it was seven o’clock in the morning. People who visited a home with twin babies at seven o’clock in the morning got what they got.

  Angry, defensive, he strode into his living room with his twins to protect his…nanny.

  The door opened and on the threshold stood an older man and woman. The woman held a crumpled tissue. It was clear both had been crying.

  “Nate? Emily?” When neither said a word, Tory eased back, opening the door a little wider. “Come in.”

  Nate glanced at Chance and his two pajama-clad babies. He smiled wryly. “We should have called.”

  Chance took a few steps into the great room, set the babies in the play yard and said, “No. We’re fine. We were up.” He headed for the kitchen. “Can I get you some coffee?”

  Emily said on the sofa. “No. Thank you.” She glanced at Tory. “Tory, dear, could you sit, please?”

  As if frozen with fear, Tory sat on the recliner. Chance’s heart accelerated. Jason’s parents were here. Crying.

  His chest tightened with misery and guilt. And god-awful hope for which he hated himself. Except, if Jason was the man he thought he was, he wouldn’t want to live for thirty years in a coma. If he had passed, death had been welcome for him.

  Tory quietly said, “What’s wrong?”

  “Jason had a stroke last night.”

  Tory said, “Oh!” She pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God.”

  “He’s stable,” Nate said.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, Chance quietly cursed. The last thing that man wanted was to hang on. This time the misery he felt was misery for Jason.

  Needing something to do, he filled four cups with coffee, then removed the plates from the bed tray he’d used for Tory’s breakfast and set the coffee, cream and sugar on it.

  As he walked toward the sofa, Nate said, “I’m sorry, Tory.”

  Sobbing quietly, Tory said, “Don’t feel sorry for me. It’s Jason I worry about.”

  Nate reached across the coffee table and caught Tory’s hand. “Honey, the reason Emily and I are here isn’t to tell you about the stroke.” He swallowed then cleared his throat. “This morning the doctors talked to us about turning off life support.”

  She gasped. Tears that had been hovering on her eyelids spilled over. “No!” She bounced out of her chair. “No!”

  Chance set the coffee on the table between the chairs and the sofa. He drew Tory into his arms. “Hey. Don’t say anything. Just cry for a minute.”

  His own throat closed. He could not imagine what she was going through, but he did know that if somebody had told him they were considering turning off Tory’s life support, he probably would have punched them.

  Emily and Nate rose. Nate said, “We wanted to tell you in person. Damage from the stroke was extensive. He’s at Mercy Hospital where they did the testing. They’re saying he’s gone, Tory. Really gone this time.”

  Holding sobbing Tory, Chance pressed his lips together and nodded to them.

  Emily began to cry too.

  Nate wrapped his big arm around his wife’s shoulders. “And no decision has been made yet.”

  Chance caught Nate’s gaze. The look they exchanged was very telling. The decision might not be final, but it had been made.

  And it had been made because they had no choice.

  * * *

  Nate and Emily left quietly as Tory clung to him. When she pulled away, the tracks of her tears shimmered on her cheeks. “I better get dressed.”

  “You can stay in your pajamas as long as you want today. I’ll stay home with the kids.”

  She gazed up at him. “But I have to go to the hospital to see Jason.”

  Of course she would. How could he not have thought of that? “I’ll drive.”

  “You have the kids.”

  “Mom or Cook will take the kids.”

  But after Tory had dressed in jeans and a pretty red sweater, and returned to the great room, she immediately reached for Sam and hugged him. Sam let out with a yelp, as if she’d squeezed him too tightly and she laughed.

  Laughed.

  On a day when her heart had clearly been shattered, she had laughed because she loved these kids. And they loved her and maybe they were enough to remind her that one part of her life might be ending, but she still had the twins—still had him.

  He ambled over. “Mom has a lunch date and Cook has somewhere to be this morning. So I thought we’d take the kids.”

  She peered over at him. “Really? To a hospital?”

  “Hospital rules are a lot less strict than they used to be. And who knows? Maybe seeing them might cheer up Jason, too.”

  She brightened at that, helped him stuff the babies in their snuggly snowsuits and snap them into their car seats. He followed her into the hospital, as she w
ove down corridors and switched elevators and finally went into a room so quiet there was no sound but the beeps and swishes of the machinery attached to the man on the bed.

  Holding Cindy, Tory walked in first. “Hey, Jason, look who I have! It’s one of the twins I’ve been telling you about.” She ambled to the bed. “This is Cindy.” She kissed Cindy’s cheek. “Say hello, sweetie.”

  Cindy let out with a sound halfway between a coo and a bark. Tory laughed.

  Chance would have laughed too, except he couldn’t stop staring at the man on the bed. Tubes were everywhere. IVs and breathing tubes. Little pasty things were attached to his head and chest. His eyelids didn’t even flutter.

  He had to turn away, but Tory brightly walked around the room. Still holding Cindy, she straightened the few items on the tray table beside the bed and then the bedside table itself.

  “It looks like things are very quiet here today.” She partially unzipped Cindy’s snowsuit. “But it’s sort of quiet everywhere. It snowed last night so everyone is driving slower and the people who don’t have to go out aren’t going out.”

  She laughed as if he’d answered, and Chance’s heart broke.

  “I know. I know. If I’d learn to ski I’d love snow too.” She laughed again, bounced Cindy on her hip. “But I’d rather be happy in my quiet dislike of winter. Because—” she smiled at him “—that just makes me love summer more.

  “And I do love summer.” She suddenly glanced over and saw Chance standing in the doorway to the room, holding Sam. “Oh, Jason. I almost forgot to introduce you to Sam.” She motioned for him to come in. “And the twins’ daddy, my boss, Chance Montgomery.”

  Chance smiled and said, “Hello,” because, as she’d told him before, they didn’t really know if Jason could hear or not. And if it helped her get through this situation, then he would simply go along.

  A nurse in white scrubs dotted with pink and red Valentine’s Day hearts shuffled in, looking at a chart. When she glanced up and saw him, Tory and two babies, she gasped. “You can’t be in here.”

  Tory said, “It’s okay. They’re with me.”

  “Jason’s only allowed one visitor at a time. Two, when his parents are here.”

  The nurse faced Chance and Chance gave her a pleading look.

  “Okay, one minute for everyone to say goodbye, then everybody but Tory leaves.”