The Maid, the Millionaire and the Baby

by Michelle Douglas

  She swung away, grabbing up the bag with the bottles and formula. ‘I’ll go and warm up George’s bottle.’ And she didn’t glance back once as she marched from the room. She kept her gaze trained on little George, who clapped his hands together and chanted, ‘Yum, yum, yum.’

  Both she and George were chanting, ‘Yum, yum, yum,’ as they entered the kitchen.

  Katherine glanced up from where she sat at the table with a glass of iced tea. ‘I expect you’re both hungry.’

  ‘Ravenous,’ she agreed, pulling a bottle from the bag and setting it in the microwave.

  ‘Here, give him to me,’ Katherine said when the bottle was ready. ‘I’ll feed him while you eat your sandwich.’

  Imogen did as she bid. Maybe little George here could be the icebreaker she needed with her aunt?

  They both watched as the baby fed greedily, his eyes closing in bliss. ‘Eat up, Immy, because you’re burping him. I don’t do vomit. Or nappies.’

  Imogen grabbed her sandwich from the fridge—chicken salad, her favourite—and started eating too.

  ‘What’s been decided?’

  ‘I told Jasper that between the three of us, we’d be able to manage. I thought he was going to explode.’ She winked. ‘But he eventually saw the wisdom of my suggestion.’

  Katherine snorted.

  ‘We’re both being paid higher duties for the duration of George’s visit. And before you ask, I’ve no idea how long that’s likely to be.’

  Katherine raised an eyebrow. ‘He’s really agreed to help with the baby?’

  She bit into her sandwich and nodded. ‘He wasn’t what you’d call enthusiastic—’ resigned might be the appropriate term ‘—but he agreed to let me teach him what he needs to know.’

  ‘Good for you.’

  He hadn’t been the least bit unreasonable or temperamental. She glanced at her aunt before feigning interest in her sandwich again. ‘While I’m more than happy to pull my weight and do the job I’m being paid for, I’m not prepared to be turned into an on-call round-the-clock drudge. I came here to spend time with you, Auntie Kay.’

  Katherine’s face shuttered at her niece’s words, and Imogen set her sandwich down and gripped her hands in her lap to counter the painful tightening of her throat. Had she done something to disappoint her aunt, to alienate her somehow? She swallowed hard and did what she could to keep a cheery expression on her face. ‘Why did you tell me to get Jasper to help with George? When I dumped the baby on his lap, I thought he was going to pass out. What’s the deal with his family?’

  Her aunt gave her one of those looks. ‘Imogen, I don’t gossip about my employer.’

  ‘I’m not asking you to. It’s just...he seems a bit hung up about it.’

  ‘People’s lives can be complicated.’

  Was her aunt’s life complicated? Was that the problem? ‘You think well of him, though, right? I’d even go so far as to say you care what happens to him.’

  ‘I’ve known him for nearly twenty years. I worked for his family for a long time. Of course I care what happens to him. But he’s shut himself away for far too long. It’ll do him good to have a bit of contact with the outside world.’

  ‘Are the two of you more than friends?’

  Shocked eyes met hers. ‘Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?’

  ‘I know it’s none of my business, but—’

  ‘It most certainly isn’t. But, me and Jasper? The idea is ludicrous.’

  That made her frown. ‘Why? You’re both young and attractive. And you’re stuck out here together all on your own and—’

  ‘I don’t feel that young, Imogen, I can assure you. The idea is preposterous. I’ve known the boy since he was twelve years old.’ Katherine’s eyes narrowed. ‘And I’d advise you not to get any ideas in that direction either. Jasper Coleman is a troubled man. Like the rest of his family.’

  ‘Is there anything I ought to know? Is he...’ she hesitated ‘...dangerous?’

  ‘Of course not. I wouldn’t hire any young woman to work here if I thought that, and certainly not my own niece.’

  Of course she wouldn’t.

  ‘It’s just that young women have always fallen all over themselves to impress him. I’d rather not see you join their ranks.’

  ‘Oh, you don’t need to worry about me, Auntie Kay. I have plans and I’m not letting any man derail them.’ Plans she and her best friend and now business partner, Lauren, had staked their entire life savings on. Elliot could take his stupid comments and choke on them, because Imogen was going to succeed.

  She glanced at her aunt again, swallowed. ‘I’ve been playing around with some new designs and I’d love to show them to you after dinner—get your opinion, throw around some new ideas.’ Katherine was the reason she’d learned to sew as a fresh-faced nine-year-old. She’d always encouraged Imogen’s creativity.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I have to keep going over the household accounts. I promised Jasper’s accountant I’d have them to him by the end of the week.’

  It was the same excuse she’d given last night. Imogen did her best to stay chipper, to give her aunt the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she wasn’t purposely avoiding her. ‘Can I help?’

  ‘I expect you’re going to have your hands full tonight.’ She handed George over. ‘Time for me to get back to work.’ With that, she strode in the direction of her office.

  Imogen watched her go and pursed her lips. As soon as her mother had found out that Katherine was looking for a temporary maid, she’d badgered Imogen to take the position and make sure all was well. And for the first time Imogen was glad she’d promised to do what she could. Because her mother was right—something was wrong.

  She stared down at the now content baby. ‘I’m going to get to the bottom of this, George.’ Her aunt was acting out of character, and she was going to find out why.

  * * *

  ‘Are you sure this is the first time you’ve changed a nappy?’ Imogen demanded, moving in to run a finger around the waist and legs of the nappy Jasper had just put on the baby.

  She smelled of oranges and vanilla. He frowned; dumbfounded that he’d even noticed what she smelled like. ‘The very first time,’ he promised, edging away a fraction.

  Chagrin flashed across her face and it almost made him smile. So far today he’d learned how to prepare a bottle of formula, though he’d managed to get out of feeding and burping the baby. She’d accepted his ‘I’d prefer to watch the first time’ excuses, though he doubted he’d get away with that at lunchtime, especially as she’d given him a free pass for the entirety of yesterday. He’d told her he’d needed to put some work measures in place before he could concentrate more fully on helping her with the baby.

  It had been a lie, mostly. He owned the company. He employed other people to manage its day-to-day operations. He didn’t need to check in daily. A simple email had taken care of business.

  But he’d needed the solitude—had needed to get his head around the events of the previous day. He’d need a whole lot more than a day and a half of solitude to make that happen, though.

  He forced himself back to the present moment to find Imogen still staring at his nappy attempt. ‘What? There’s nothing wrong with it.’

  ‘I know. That’s the problem.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘You’re one of these perfect people who get everything spot-on first time, aren’t you?’

  Nope, that didn’t describe him at all. ‘I’m good with my hands.’ He’d allow that much. He’d spent far too much time as a kid making paper planes and kites. He’d eventually graduated to assembling model airplanes and ships, and then disassembling computer motherboards and putting them back together—activities that had kept him out of sight and out of the line of his father’s fury.

  The baby chose that moment to wave his hands in the air with a series of excited
gurgles, and Imogen swooped down to kiss those little fists and tickle his tummy, making him chortle. He was a sturdy and happy little chap. Not what he’d have expected from Emily’s child.

  Imogen sent Jasper a sidelong glance, the green in her eyes sparkling with devilment. ‘So, you’re good with your hands, huh?’

  He didn’t have a collar on his T-shirt, so it had to be an imaginary collar that tightened about his throat. ‘I, uh...’

  She straightened, laughing outright. ‘When I first met you, I dubbed you Mr Cool and Mysterious, but I think I need to revise that to Mr Clueless and Out of His Depth.’

  He stiffened, trying to resist the pull of her teasing. ‘I am still your employer, remember?’ But his words didn’t carry even a quarter of the weight he’d meant them to.

  ‘Yes, sir!’

  She saluted and all he could do was shake his head. Where did all of her irrepressible sense of fun come from?

  She stepped away from the change table. If nothing else, the baby had certainly arrived well equipped.

  His jaw suddenly clenched. A change table. In his house. On an almost deserted island. It’d look as if he’d planned for the arrival of this child.

  Try explaining that to a jury.

  ‘Right, seeing as though you’re so good with your hands, you can carry George through to the living room.’

  He crashed back and pushed his dark suspicions to the back of his mind.

  He hadn’t had to pick the baby up yet. Other than the time she’d plonked him on his lap, he hadn’t touched him until the nappy change. Jasper had spent the last two nights at the other end of the house from Imogen and the baby, but Imogen had been adamant this morning that they set up a proper nursery in one of the upstairs guest bedrooms. At his end of the house. He’d wanted to protest, but on what grounds?

  He couldn’t keep taking advantage of Imogen’s good nature. And the light in her eyes had told him not to bother trying. She might have an irrepressible sense of fun, but if she was anything like Katherine, she’d have a will of steel too. And instinct told him she was definitely cast in the same mould as her aunt.

  So, he’d helped to shift all the associated baby paraphernalia, had unpacked tiny romper suits and little short sets into a chest of drawers. There’d been something about those tiny clothes that’d had his chest clenching. He’d done his best to ignore it. He couldn’t afford emotion and sentiment. Not in this situation.

  Swallowing back an automatic objection, he took a step closer to the baby.

  ‘What are you afraid of?’ she asked softly at his elbow.

  Too many things, and all of them too personal to share. But he had to say something. ‘I don’t want to drop him. I don’t want to hurt him.’ Both of those things were true.

  She didn’t laugh, and something inside him unhitched. He suspected he deserved mockery, but he was grateful to be spared it all the same.

  ‘George isn’t a newborn, so you don’t have to support his head when you lift him. His neck muscles have developed enough to support that weight on their own.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Once you pick him up, you can either balance him on your hip, like you’ve no doubt seen me doing.’

  She seized a teddy bear to demonstrate. He did his best not to focus on the shapely curve of her hip.

  ‘Or you can hold him against your shoulder.’ The teddy went to her shoulder where she patted his back. ‘Or you can hold him in front of you with his back against your chest.’

  The teddy bear was pressed to her chest. But it was smaller than a life-sized baby and holding the toy there highlighted her, uh...curves. Rather deliciously.

  Don’t ogle her chest.

  ‘Of course, you shouldn’t hold him too tight.’

  She demonstrated by pulling the soft toy hard against her and it was all he could do not to groan. He would not notice her physical attributes. It’d be wrong on so many levels. He was her employer, for heaven’s sake. He might’ve been stuck on this island for the last two years, but he read the news, kept up with what was happening in the world—the #metoo movement had not passed him by. And he was not going to join the ranks of men who used their positions of power to prey on young women sexually. The thought sickened him.

  He forced his mind back to the task at hand. ‘Isn’t he going to squirm and throw himself about and...?’ He trailed off with a shrug.

  ‘Have you ever held a puppy or kitten?’

  ‘No.’ He and Emily hadn’t been allowed pets when they were growing up.

  He turned to find her mouth had fallen open. A beat started up somewhere in his chest. Her eyes softened and she lifted her hand as if to touch him, and then seemed to recall herself. Stiffening, she eased back. ‘Not everyone is an animal person.’

  ‘I’d have loved a dog as a kid.’

  Where on earth had that come from?

  But it earned him a smile and he couldn’t regret it.

  ‘All I was going to say is that puppies and kittens wriggle a lot when they’re excited. George here is a whole lot easier to hold than an overexcited puppy.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘So...’ She gestured for him to pick up the baby.

  He and the baby stared at each other. Carefully, he eased forward and slid his hands beneath the baby’s armpits and lifted him. The weight of the baby was somehow reassuring. He dangled him at arm’s length, getting used to the weight, noting how large his hands looked around the baby’s middle. Little legs kicked as if they had an excess of energy, but they didn’t make him feel as if he’d drop the child.

  Swallowing, he moved him to rest against his chest and shoulder. The kid grabbed a fistful of Jasper’s shirt and bounced, but Jasper kept a hand at the baby’s back to steady them both, and then slowly let out a breath. ‘Okay, that wasn’t so bad.’

  He turned to Imogen, expecting to find her smiling, but she wasn’t. She was staring at him, hands on hips. ‘What?’ he asked, suddenly defensive.

  ‘Do you know you haven’t spoken to him yet?’

  He scowled. Yeah, he knew. It was another one of those threshold moments, and he’d had enough of them for one day. ‘Did you have a lot of pets growing up?’

  Her face relaxed into a smile. ‘I can’t imagine not having a dog.’

  ‘You have a dog...now?’

  She started to laugh. ‘Relax, Jasper, I’ve neither abandoned my dog nor brought her with me and hidden her in your garden shed. She’s the family pet, and lives with my parents and has done so for the last ten years. Lulabelle the Labrador cross is adorable and spends most of her days dozing in the sun. I couldn’t imagine not having a dog,’ she repeated.

  He’d ached for a dog as a kid, but he hadn’t thought about that in years. He rolled his shoulders, keeping a firm grip on the baby. ‘Why not?’ What was so good about having a dog?

  ‘They’re great company.’

  Yeah, well, he didn’t need any of that. He liked his own company.

  ‘They’re a lot of fun.’

  He didn’t need fun either.

  ‘And they don’t judge you. They just love you unconditionally.’

  He couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

  She started to laugh again. ‘And in addition to all of that they’ll keep you on your toes as they chew your shoes, dig up the garden, traipse mud into the house and pee on the carpet. A lot like kids, I guess.’

  ‘Oh, now I’m really going to rush out and get a dog,’ he said wryly, trying not to notice the way the ends of her hair danced whenever she laughed.

  She sobered and nodded at the baby. ‘You’re going to need to talk to him.’

  Damn. He’d thought he’d distracted her from that. ‘Why?’ Why did he have to talk to the kid? It’d be in everyone’s best interests if he could maintain his distance. He’d make sure the baby’s ph
ysical needs were met—why couldn’t that be enough?

  ‘Because he needs to know he can trust you. Besides, it’s friendly and polite.’

  He wanted to stop his ears and close his eyes.

  ‘He needs to feel comfortable around you, not frightened or intimidated.’

  He pulled in a breath. Okay, her words made sense. He could make small talk with the kid, right? It wouldn’t kill him. It wouldn’t bring the walls he had firmly in place crashing down. He glanced down to find the baby staring at him. ‘Hello, baby.’

  George shoved a fist in his mouth and eyeballed him.

  ‘George,’ she sighed. ‘His name is George.’

  A scowl shuffled through him. Who’d chosen the name—Emily or Aaron? ‘George is too big a name for a baby—too adult.’

  ‘Which is why I sometimes call him Georgie...or Gorgy Georgie.’

  The baby pulled his fist from his mouth to smile at her, but Jasper shook his head. ‘I am not calling him that.’ He must’ve spoken too loudly, because the baby gave a start. ‘Sorry if that offends you,’ he muttered, patting the nappy-clad bottom. ‘What about kid?’ he said, hoping to avert some very loud crying. ‘Are you all right with me calling you kid?’

  To his utter amazement, the little guy threw his head back and laughed. As if Jasper had just told him the funniest joke he’d ever heard. He tried to stop his chest from puffing up, tried to not feel so pleased when a little hand slapped his chest, right above his heart. ‘He’s a happy little guy, isn’t he? Doesn’t seem to cry much.’

  Her lips curved into the most bewitching smile that he did his best to ignore. ‘You sound surprised.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Not all babies fuss and cry a lot.’

  But he’d never thought for a single moment that Emily’s baby would be one of the contented ones. He pushed the thought aside. ‘What now? What are we doing next?’

  ‘We’re going to the beach.’

  He stiffened. ‘You just want to go for a swim. You’re going to abandon me on a beach with a baby I barely know, while you get to live it up.’