Nicki scowled, then stood. “I’ve got homework to do.”
Max and Nicki stared at each other hard before the teen actually smiled with malice, then shot Vivi a hatredfilled smirk as she slouched out the door. Almost reluctantly, Lila followed. Seconds later the television flared on.
Vivi faced the empty doorway, speechless. It was one thing to read about someone’s dislike in the newspapers, but quite another to hear the words uttered to her face.
Ouch.
“They’re lovely,” Vivi offered.
Max didn’t move for long seconds, his face a mask of stone. “I apologize for Nicki. But she’s . . . a teenager.”
“And that makes it okay to be ill-mannered? Not that I care for me. I’m used to it. But clearly something is wrong.”
His jaw tightened. “Nothing is wrong. Nicki is just being fourteen.”
“Which implies?”
She could feel the shift in him, the low simmer of frustration that started to rise.
“She’s filled with hormones that make her do and say things that she doesn’t really mean.”
She looked at him incredulously. “Did you read that in a teenage how-to guide somewhere?”
“No, I raised five other kids.”
“Score one for Max. Good answer.”
He took the steps that separated them, like a predator stalking. Instantly her heart lodged in her throat and her pulse pounded like an African drum. But she stood her ground.
Stopping mere inches away, he studied her, much as the girls had earlier. Her senses leaped when his gaze drifted low. She could feel the heat of him as it swelled around them.
A sudden, undeniable surge of lust stabbed through her, making her dizzy. It amazed her how this man made her feel. Hot and aching, a little of the wildness she had tamped down for a lifetime bubbling over.
It was all she could do not to lean into the promise of his eyes. He wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. The knowledge was heady.
But then he cursed.
“What was that for?” she demanded.
“You make me crazy. This isn’t going to work. I’ve hired you to take care of my sisters, and the minute I see you I’m—” He cut himself off and ran a hand through his hair.
“You’re what?”
His eyes narrowed. “Even crazier. Look, I think we can both see that this is a mistake. Let me give you some money and you can go get a job somewhere else.”
“You can’t fire me!”
“Think of it as having never being hired.”
“But I was hired. And unless I don’t perform my duties, you can’t fire me.”
“Says who?”
“Say . . . says . . . some government type who won’t cotton up to an employer recanting a job offer.”
“Cotton up?”
She sliced him a look. “The fact is you need a care-giver and I need a job. We’ve been over this. Besides,” she reasoned, an unexpected sense of pleasure washing through her, “I think Lila really likes me.”
Max stared at her long and hard, and she would have sworn he knew she was right.
“Fine, you can stay, at least until you cross me, and then you’re out. Remember, we said this was temporary. Understand?”
“Perfectly. Now, where should I put my things?”
“I’ll show you your room.”
After a few less than kind comments about the sheer number of suitcases she had, they made short work of bringing her belongings inside. Or rather he made short work of it, since he hardly allowed her to do a thing. He might not want her there, but he was still the perfect gentleman. It was hard to imagine they still made men like him.
He led her through the house of tile floors and high ceilings. Everywhere she looked there were skylights and plants. It felt warm and tropical, like a world far removed from her own.
Yet one more step away from her former life. She wasn’t sure if she was scared, terrified . . . or strangely elated.
They came to two sets of stairs. One led off to the left, the other to the right.
“Your house is beautiful,” she offered, as they climbed the left set of stairs, which overlooked a foyer.
“Thanks.”
“Did you build or buy?”
“Built.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Eight months.”
But the words didn’t register when he stopped in a bedroom. She realized they were in a separate wing of the house.
“Whose room is this?” she asked even though he was setting down her belongings. “Okay, it’s mine. But”— she glanced at a connecting door leading to another bedroom—“who sleeps in there?” She grimaced and pointed. “Is it an overlarge guest room, perhaps? An extra master suite just in case you have some really, really important company? Or do your sisters go for hunter prints instead of rock star posters?”
“I hope you’re not going to use that Valley Girl talk in front of the girls. When I relented and hired you, I consoled myself with the idea that a woman of refinement and society would be influencing Nicki and Lila, not the trendy, Oh-my-gosh-that-is-awesome sort of sisters that I already have.”
“Is that your way of saying you don’t want to answer my question about the bedroom?”
“That is my bedroom, and—”
“And? We aren’t finished with the ‘that is my bedroom’part ! Where are the girls’ rooms? Why am I not by them?”
“Unless you want to sleep on the foldout couch in the den or in the maid’s room near the utility area, this is the only room available. And believe me, the door will be closed and locked from now on.” Then he shook his head, picked up her Louis Vuitton bags, and headed toward the door, forcing her back a few steps to get out of the way.
“You’re right,” he added. “What was I thinking? The maid’s room will do. You are the help.”
“Me? I mean, yes, me. I am the help, but on second thought, I see no reason why I can’t be perfectly fine right here.”
His smile turned wicked, teasing, which surprised Vivi as much as it worried her.
“But really, I shouldn’t treat you any differently than every other nanny I hired.”
That got her attention. “Every other nanny you hired?”
“Well . . .”
Suddenly this tall, dark, manly man looked distinctly sheepish.
“Max?”
“It’s nothing, really. I hired a few, but they didn’t work out. It’s no big deal.”
“It’s sounding less like a no big deal than it sounds like a definite big deal. Why didn’t they work out?”
“They couldn’t handle the . . . responsibilities.”
“How many nannies have there been?”
“One or two.”
“Are you sure?”
“Or six.”
“Six?” she screeched.
“In as many weeks.”
“What kind of sisters do you have?”
He shot her a scowl. He wasn’t teasing anymore. “The regular kind.” He set down the bags. “All you have to do is feed them, clothe them, drive them to and from school, see to it that they get to all those things they do in the afternoons, and take care of the house. At night, make sure they do their homework and get them to bed on time.”
Her mind raced at the thought of taking care of two girls who had run off six other women—no doubt experienced caregivers with a great deal more knowledge than she had.
“Also,” he continued, looking her up and down, “I’d like you to take the girls shopping for clothes. Maybe you could steer Nicki away from all that black.”
Vivi told herself to stay calm. She could do this. How hard could it be? Besides, her father never stayed away longer than a month. Maybe two. “I’d love to take Nicki shopping,” she said. Though she didn’t add that as much as she liked the idea of a project, she didn’t think a girl who had said she looked like a party cake was going to be all that keen on taking fashion advice from her.
“Now for the ru
les,” he said.
Rules? Her brain was already on tilt, but she didn’t think asking him to slow down was a good idea.
He locked his hands behind his back and started to pace. “Nicki isn’t allowed to date.”
“Don’t fourteen-year-old girls and boys do things like go to the mall?”
“It’s not the boys I’m concerned with. It’s the seventeen-year-old seniors, specifically the seniors with bad reputations, who interest her. So unless it’s another freshman who’s going to take her to the Ice Cream Shoppe on a Saturday afternoon, there’s no dating.”
“Fine.”
“And keep her away from that place called Raiders.”
“She goes there?”
“Not with permission. My sister-in-law took her shopping last week. Nicki disappeared. Randi got frantic and called the police. They found her at Raiders. From what I gather, there’s one senior in particular named Brandon Bonner who she’s got a huge crush on. He hangs out at the place.”
“Does he like her?”
“I don’t think he knows she exists.”
“I’m happy to keep her out of Raiders. But why on the one hand are you really strict, then on the other, you let her dress like Morticia? I’m not clear on the psychology here. If you want her out of the black, why not just tell her to change instead of sending me out shopping with her?”
“Clothes are one thing,” he said tightly. “Spending time with deadbeat seniors is another.”
She held up her hands in surrender. “No problem. You’re the boss. What else? What about Lila?”
“Lila is a good kid. Not nearly the trou—” He cleared his throat. “Not nearly as energetic. She won’t push you at every turn.” He stopped and considered. “Also, I don’t want the girls watching horror movies.”
“Okay.”
“No junk food.”
“Not a problem.”
“No play dates with kids whose parents you haven’t met, or with parents who aren’t home.”
“Check and check.”
“Are you writing this down?”
“I have a mind like a steel trap.”
He grumbled something. “I’ll leave you a list.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Max gave her a look and it was all Vivi could do not to slap her hand over her mouth. She really had to get the hang of being an employee.
“That’s about it, at least for now. The girls ordered Mexican food for dinner,” he added. “If you want something else, there’s plenty in the refrigerator.”
“What about you?”
“I’m going out.”
“Already?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I just got here.”
There went that stern look again. “This isn’t a date, Vivienne.”
“Oh, darn,” she said with exaggerated sweetness. “I’m crushed.”
She swore he just might strangle her, but the fact was it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that these girls needed attention. Their brother’s attention. She knew all about elusive parents and eating alone.
“What I meant was that, call me insane, maybe you should spend a bit of time eating dinner with your sisters, find out what they’re doing in school, or at the very least stay long enough to make sure I’m not a mass murderer or debauched kidnapper with a criminal past.”
“Are you?”
“Joke all you want—”
“I’m learning from you.”
She shot him a scowl. “I just think it’s odd that you would bring in someone new, then disappear.”
Max tilted his head, his blue eyes flashing with a speculative gleam. “You really don’t want me to leave.”
Instantly his mood shifted and he came closer. She remembered how it had felt when he took her in his arms, the command of his lips on hers. The heat, the desire. The kiss they had shared was everything Grady had said she knew nothing about.
The thought leaped into her head that this man could teach her. He could show her the intricacies of intimacy. Lessons of a sort.
And just as soon as the idea was born, shock followed in its wake. What was she thinking? Intimacy with a man for the sole purpose of learning how?
She scoffed silently at the absurdity, the ridiculousness of her even considering such a thing. She was Vivi Stansfield, who had waited twenty-five years, not to mention until she was engaged, before having sex. And now she was wondering about lessons?
Raising her chin, her voice going stiff, she said, “Now, Mr. Landry—”
“Formal, are we? I like it. Why don’t you add a few Yes, sirs and No, sirs to your repertoire?”
“Next you’ll be asking me to put on an apron and sit on your lap.”
“Not a bad idea.” He was so close he could touch her. “What is it about you, Vivienne Stansfield, that makes me crazy one minute, then want to laugh the next?”
She wrapped prim indignation around her like a shield. “Hard to say. But with your sisters close by, this probably isn’t the best time to find out.”
She wheeled around, intent on fleeing, but his strong hand flattened on the doorjamb, blocking the way. He was so tall, making her feel tiny and delicate, even desirable. Not at all like an untouchable china doll.
Vivi managed a dry, croaking squeak. “What? Do you have a few more instructions for me? Or better yet, how about a few of your witty insults?”
The words stuck in her throat, making her voice crack, though that didn’t stop her skin from tingling.
Ever so gently, he reached out and touched her lips, sending sensation racing through her. Despite every ounce of her that knew better, she wanted to lean into him, to feel his lips brush against hers.
But he only chuckled, then ran his fingers down her jaw to her neck. He stopped at the pulse in her throat. His blue eyes darkened with sensuality.
“I haven’t insulted you once,” he stated, the words a deep rumble of sound.
Inhaling slowly, she couldn’t seem to move, forward or back. “Once? No. Try a half dozen times.”
“Name one.” His fingers moved lower.
“The ‘I can’t believe I hired you’ comment.”
“That was a statement of disbelief, not an insult.”
“You say tomato, I say tomahto.”
“Are you ever serious?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“Did it ever occur to you that if you were serious every once in a while, you might not be in this situation?”
The words hurt, cutting deep to that place that made it harder to keep the panic at bay. But she had spent years perfecting the skill, and she wasn’t going to let this man or this situation undo all her hard work.
Her eyes popped open, her mind cementing. Raising her chin, she fell back on old habits, those things that kept her safe. “I’m convinced that the whole thinking thing is overrated.”
Max shook his head and smiled as he looked at her mouth. But just when she knew he would have dipped his head and kissed her, a voice rang out.
“Max! The food’s here! I need some money!”
“Ah, dinner,” Vivi said, relief making her knees weak. At least that’s what she told herself it was. “You know, on second thought, I see no reason for you to eat in. Tacos, ugh. So not you.” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “You can have dinner with the girls some other night.”
Chapter Eight
Max gave Nicki some money for the delivery guy, then startled everyone a few minutes later when he entered the kitchen.
“Is there an extra burrito for me?” he asked, his blue eyes smiling.
Vivi was too surprised to respond. One, because he had changed into jeans, and two, because he looked great—better than great.
He still wore the same starched white shirt, but now it was tucked into faded button-fly denim, soft but clean, that molded to his butt and cupped his crotch like a lover. His hair had dried, winging back from his forehead, making her want to reach out and ru
n her fingers through it.
Lila didn’t appear surprised by his attire, but she was surprised by the fact that he was there. “You’re eating with us?” she asked, her eyes even larger than usual behind her glasses.
“Don’t look so shocked. I thought it would be a good time to catch up.”
“Great.” Nicki rolled her eyes.
“Nicki,” Max warned, retrieving a plate, sitting down, then helping himself to dinner.
Vivi watched the Landrys, all varying images of the other. Not only did they look alike, but they picked up their burritos the same way, then tilted their heads at the exact same angle as they took a bite. Tickled, thinking they would make a great nature vs. nurture experiment, Vivi picked up her fork and knife and cut off a small piece. Just as she was taking it toward her open mouth, she froze when she noticed all three of the Landrys staring at her in astonishment.
“What?” she demanded.
“You’re eating your burrito with a fork and knife,” Nicki scoffed.
Vivi hardly knew how to respond. But no one said anything when Lila quietly got up and retrieved a fork and knife for herself. When she saw that everyone was watching her, she said, “I think it’s a good idea.”
“Sheesh,” Nicki muttered.
Vivi wanted to hug Lila tight. “As I recall, the three of you were catching up.”
Lila appeared thrilled at the prospect of discussing, as she called it, the educational trials and tribulations of junior high.
“That’s right,” Lila said with a nod. “Let’s talk about school. What do you want to know, Max?”
Her brother sat back and seemed at a loss. Clearly quality time with his sisters was at a minimum. “What did you learn this week?”
Lila snorted. “That most eleven-year-olds can’t use the word penis without laughing.”
Max choked, Nicki’s mouth fell open, and Vivi cringed at the reminder of her own unfortunate penis episode. However, no one had been laughing during hers.
“I don’t get why,” Lila continued with the seriousness of a Nobel Laureate, “that word causes such an uproar. Penis,” she said, tilting her head one way. “Penis,” she tried again, her chin jutting forward. “I just don’t get it.”
By now, Max’s jaw had turned to stone.
“Maybe it’s the fact that Ms. Pearl is teaching health this year,” Lila reasoned, “in a coed class. It’s no secret that every boy at Morehead Middle School has a crush on her. Though you’d understand that, Max, since you have a crush on her yourself.”
The Wedding Diaries Page 7