Nanny to the Billionaire's Son

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Nanny to the Billionaire's Son Page 8

by Barbara McMahon


  “Too much?”

  “He’s only three. He doesn’t eat a lot.”

  “I’ll remember that. She served his plate and then hers. Tommy squirmed and ate a few bites, talking to his father, telling him something fascinating, Sam thought. But once again when he began these long monologues, she didn’t understand most of the words.

  Mac began to laugh. Sam watched him, intrigued by the change. He should do that more often. His eyes crinkled in laughter and his whole face seemed younger. That enticing dimple appeared and she knew she was staring. He caught her gaze and shook his head.

  “I don’t understand half of what he says, but he’s so earnest about it.”

  She smiled and looked at Tommy. For a second she thought of how they’d look to an outsider peering in. This was like a normal family. Father, mother, child. The kind of dinners she remembered when her parents had been alive and she and Charlene the much-loved children.

  Feeling a pang at the loss of her parents, gone nine years, she shook off the feeling and rose to get Tommy some more milk. He might not eat much, but he loved milk.

  Sam felt on edge as the meal progressed. Was she on probation? Every time she looked up, Mac was watching her. He’d look at Tommy or at his food when she caught his eye, but it made her nervous. If he hadn’t thought she capable of watching his son, why hire her?

  Once finished, Mac rose. “I’ll be in the study if you need me. Have Tommy come see me before he goes to bed.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief when he left. She had Tommy help clear the table carrying things that couldn’t break if he dropped them. Quickly cleaning the kitchen, she checked the time. Almost seven-thirty. She’d give Tommy a bath and read him a book before having him say good-night to his dad.

  Leaving the door a bit open after she’d tucked Tommy into bed, she went quietly to the stairs. Mentally running through her checklist, she had done all she was supposed to. She waited a moment at the top of the stairs to make sure Tommy wasn’t calling out, then went down. Mac waited near the bottom.

  “In bed?”

  “Went quietly. I always thought kids protested,” she said, slowing as she descended the last couple of steps.

  “He’s always been good about going to bed. I wanted him to get used to your tucking him in. Normally if I’m home, I do it,” he said. “He seems taken with you.”

  “I’m glad. He’s so darling. It doesn’t feel like work to watch him.”

  “He’s not always so congenial. Sometimes he throws temper tantrums like any kid.”

  “And when that happens, do I just ignore them?”

  “For the most part. Do what you feel is best.”

  It didn’t sound as if he didn’t trust her. She frowned. “So why did you come home early?”

  Mac didn’t answer for a moment. Then shrugged. “Just to make sure you didn’t feel thrown in over your head your first night.”

  “Can you hear him in your study if he cries?” she asked.

  “Yes, I have a baby monitor there. And another in the family room. So nights you’re here after he goes to bed, you can hear him if he cries out. Though he rarely gets out of bed in the night.”

  “Okay. Well, I’ve cleaned the kitchen to Mrs. Horton’s standards, I hope. Tommy’s in bed, so I’ll be off,” she said, stepping away. She wished she could stay and talk, find out more about Mac and what he’d done all day. Share some of the surprising contributions that came in after last week’s luncheon. But he made no move to detain her.

  “I’ll be home late tomorrow night,” Mac said.

  “I’ll be here until you arrive,” she replied, going for her coat.

  “Drive carefully. It’s getting colder, so there may be some ice on the road.” He took a step closer and took her coat from her hands. Her gaze met his and Sam felt the butterflies again. She needed to develop some kind of immunity to the attraction that flared every time she was with him. She was hired to watch his son—nothing more.

  Slowly she turned around and let him help her put the coat on. When she turned back, she met his eyes again. They were dark and mysterious and compelling. She could look at him forever, if she could only breathe at the same time.

  Taking a quick breath, she broke off the eye contact. “Good night, Mac.” She had to get out of here before she did something stupid.

  He opened the door for her. The way he watched her made her conscious of how she must look after a long day at the office and then taking care of his son. No lipstick. And who knew how her hair looked?

  “Good night, Sam.”

  What she wished for, she thought as she turned on her car engine a moment later, was a kiss, not a polite good-night.

  How stupid was that? Mac didn’t seem the type to play around with his staff. The kiss at New Year’s had been magical, because of the setting, the nostalgia at the end of a year and the promise of a new one. And probably loneliness because he missed his wife.

  “Well, that puts me in my place,” she said as she carefully backed out of the driveway and headed for home. “Cinderella was a fairy tale. Not my life.”

  Mac stood in the doorway watching Sam drive away until the cold had him step back and shut the door. He listened for a moment, but heard nothing. Tommy was already asleep. Returning to the study, he sat behind the desk and leaned back in the chair.

  He’d done some checking on Samantha Duncan—from one of her biggest fans, Timothy Parsons at the Beale Foundation. He was full of praise for Samantha’s work and the fact she’d overcome obstacles at a young age that would have defeated older women.

  Mac learned more about the accident that had changed the direction of her life. And about her sister, Charlene, whom Timothy also held in high regard.

  Taking the ticket had been a lark, Mac was sure. It sounded unlike the woman he was coming to know. He had thrown it away after all. Was it fate to put her into his path? he wondered. He’d enjoyed dinner tonight more than any dinner recently—except perhaps the one on NewYear’s Eve. Louise had always had dinner ready when he came home but she refused to eat with them. Tonight he had not given Sam the choice. He had some prior commitments the rest of the week, but he’d see what he could do to be home for dinner in the future.

  Tommy seemed to like her.

  Mac was pleased, since he knew Mrs. Horton and his son didn’t hit it off as well. At least for a few hours a day, his son would have someone he really liked to be with. Mac had called the agencies again this morning, but there were no prospective live-in housekeepers on the horizon. He’d expanded his search with two more agencies. Surely someone was out there who would relate well with Tommy, and keep his house.

  Not that he was in that much of a hurry now. It would mean he’d have to let Sam go. He was looking forward to some more dinners together before then.

  By Friday, Sam felt she was in a comfortable routine. She left work to head for Mac’s house. She and Mrs. Horton would never be best friends, but the woman was considerably more cordial now than on Monday. Tommy loved seeing her arrive and she was surprised at how much she relished his enthusiastic greetings.

  And she took a few moments before leaving each evening to speak with Mac about what Tommy had said or done. He had not returned home before Tommy’s bedtime after Monday. Still, he was always eager to hear about his son. He’d also ask how Sam was faring and listen as if truly interested.

  Tonight she wondered if he was taking some lovely young woman out for dinner and dancing. The weather continued cold but clear. Tomorrow it was forecast to warm up a bit, at least above the freezing mark. Mac had asked her Wednesday night if she could watch Tommy on Saturday and she’d agreed. Maybe she’d take him to the zoo. She remembered loving to visit the zoo as a child. She’d have to get Mac’s permission tonight. Wouldn’t that be a nice surprise for Tommy if his dad agreed?

  She had a hard time thinking of Mac as anyone’s father. He seemed too sexy to be connected with children. She considered the Black and White Ball the perfect sett
ing for Mac. Or as head of a large corporation. Yet he obviously adored his son and Tommy loved him equally.

  She had never given much thought to marriage and a family. Since Chad had broken her heart, she’d been determined to get her degree and go after the job in the National Park Service she so wanted. She so longed to see the west, to live in a national park where land was as it had been for millennia. Some nights she could hardly stand her life the longing was so strong. She read books, had several travel videos of the western parks. She knew more than the average person on flora and fauna of the western region. Maybe once she had a job, she’d find just the right man. Maybe another park ranger.

  One day she’d get her chance. But being patient was hard.

  Not that she regretted providing a home for her sister. But if Charlene could find an outlet for her quilts and become totally self-sufficient, that would free up her sense of responsibility a bit. Once Sam had her degree, everything would change. Nothing would stop her from her goal.

  Sam drove through Atlanta’s evening traffic heading for Mac’s home. She forced her thoughts to the job at hand and not the dreams that had languished for years. Anticipation rose. Even though he was probably escorting some other woman to dinner, she’d see Mac when he returned home. Those few moments at the end of each evening caused Sam to check her makeup, replenish lipstick and brush her hair as soon as Tommy went to bed each night.

  It wasn’t much, but for a few moments each day, she relished being in Mac’s company.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  AFTER Tommy was in bed, Samantha brought out the book she’d been reading and settled in the large recliner in the family room. Glancing around, she relished the peace and quiet. Tommy had been more rambunctious this evening than normal and she was glad he was finally asleep.

  Mrs. Horton kept the house immaculate and Sam was grateful for the serene room to relax in. This job sure beat working for Jordan’s. She could feel guilty for taking Mac’s money for the few hours she’d worked so far, but he’d made the offer and she really needed the supplemental income.

  The book held her interest until fatigue won out. She’d worked long hours all week and the quietness of the house soon lulled her to sleep.

  Mac pulled around Sam’s car and into the garage. It was late. He hadn’t meant to stay at the party so long, but Peter and Cindy were there. While Mac never liked Cindy all that much, he and Peter had been friends for years. For a little while it had almost been like old times—he talking with a friend while Chris had been elsewhere at a party talking with her friends. Only he knew the difference. They would not be going home together.

  To his surprise, he’d enjoyed the evening.

  Entering the family room, he saw immediately that his babysitter had fallen asleep in the recliner. He closed the door quietly, hoping he hadn’t wakened her. For a moment he studied Sam, her hair tousled and mussed. Her long, slightly curved lashes brushed the top of her cheeks. Her lips were devoid of lipstick, but still looked kissable.

  He frowned and shrugged out of his coat, slinging it across the back of the sofa. He hadn’t forgotten their kiss at the ball. She’d been receptive, but that was before he knew her or she him. Would she be equally receptive tonight? The past week he’d found it difficult not to rush home every night to see Sam. When he did arrive, she properly gave him a rundown of Tommy’s activities and then quickly left.

  He’d offered her the job because he’d gotten her fired and believed in righting wrongs. But now he wanted more than a mere employee. He wanted someone to talk to, someone who cared a bit for his son and his best interests. He wanted something beyond what he’d shared with his former housekeeper, Louise.

  But would Sam ever want the same thing? She’d been so proper and distant this week. An employee-employer barrier? Or was she really not interested and that was her way of showing it?

  There was only one way to find out. He crossed to the chair and brushed her hair away from her face. The gentle touch seemed to waken her. She blinked once and then looked up at him.

  “Sorry, I think I fell asleep.” Her voice was husky. She looked warm and content and alluring.

  “No problem, as long as it was after Tommy did.”

  She nodded and stretched, pushing her breasts against her sweater.

  Mac swallowed hard. He sat on the armrest, reining in on the impulse to pull her into his arms and snuggle together in the warm chair. “Busy day?”

  “Busy week. I’ll get my stuff and head out,” she said. But before she could rise, he stood and offered her his hand, pulling her to her feet.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  She tugged on her hand, but he didn’t release it. Looking up, she raised her eyebrows in silent question.

  Slowly he rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. “Thanks for watching my son. I’m glad you came into our lives.”

  Sam looked as if she didn’t know what to say. After a couple of seconds, she smiled wryly. “Maybe it was meant. If you hadn’t thrown away the ticket and if it hadn’t fluttered out of the trash, we never would have met.”

  He didn’t want to think their meeting was so chancy. He would have met her at the charity luncheon. But would he have? They’d sat at different tables. Normally when he went to such events, he left as soon as the program ended.

  “Come to dinner tomorrow night,” he said, giving into one impulse.

  “I can’t,” she said. “I need to spend some time with my sister. I’ve been here every evening all week.”

  “Bring your sister.” It wasn’t his initial thought, but he’d be glad to include her if it meant Sam would be back.

  She shook her head then looked thoughtful. “You and Tommy could come to our place,” she offered slowly.

  That surprised Mac. But he’d take what he could get. “Fine. What time?”

  “Actually, since you wanted me to watch Tommy tomorrow, I was going to ask if I could take him to the zoo. They have a great petting zoo. I think he’d love that. Then I could bring him back to our place and you come over when you are finished or by six or so. Would that work?”

  He nodded.

  He still held her hand. She tugged again and he let her go. She was instantly all business—giving him a report on Tommy and then going to get her coat. He helped her put it on, turning her to face him, his hands on her shoulders.

  “Thanks for taking such good care of my son this week,” he said.

  “It’s a pleasure. He’s so funny and sweet. He cuddles up like he’s known me all his life. You have a great son.”

  He nodded, watching her lips as she spoke. When she stopped, he kissed her. He felt her start of surprise and then the giving as she returned the kiss. He gathered her close, unwittingly noticing she was smaller than Chris. Her mouth was warm and sweet and the taste of her sent waves of pleasure through him. All thought of Chris fled. This was Samantha of the pretty brown eyes and the taste of sunshine.

  He wanted her in his bed.

  But would they ever reach that stage?

  Sam ended the kiss a moment later by turning her head slightly. She was breathing hard and her mouth was rosy and damp from their embrace.

  “I need to go,” she said, avoiding his eyes.

  He turned her face and tilted it up until she met his gaze.

  “Thank you again for all your help with Tommy.” Should he apologize for kissing her? He didn’t regret a second.

  She stepped back. “It’s my job, isn’t it?” With that, she opened the door and hurried into the cold.

  With a start of surprise, Mac realized he wanted it to be more than that.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Sam chanted as she backed out of the driveway and began driving home. She needed to keep her distance. Was she sending some kind of vibes that she was fascinated by him? Was that the reason he kissed her? Of course she was totally fascinated, but she worked hard all week to keep that knowledge under wraps. She hardly spoke about her job or Mac to her sister. She kept her sec
ond job a secret at work. No one could accuse her of flirting. She didn’t linger when he returned home each night, though she longed to settle in the comfy sofa and share a late-night beverage of coffee or hot chocolate and talk. She wanted to find out all she could about the man and what he thought about current issues. What were his future plans? Was he as much fun at the end of a hard day at work as he was when on a date?

  But she’d been determined to keep her distance.

  So why had he kissed her tonight?

  She swerved the car slightly as she let herself delve into the memory of the kiss. It had been better than the one at New Year’s. At the ball, at least, there had been some excuse. Tonight she was at a loss to know why. Yet she couldn’t help the slight smile that touched her lips. Who cared why? Apart from the ball, she hadn’t been kissed in a long time. And never like Mac kissed.

  Oh, no. She’d invited him to her home. Now she was going to introduce him and Tommy to her sister, share a meal together in her home—which couldn’t begin to compare with the lavish place in which he lived—and have to make small talk without revealing how his touch affected her. Or giving away her confusion to her sister.

  Not that she wasn’t content with her own home. How many women her age owned a house that had no mortgage? Most of the rooms were fine—it was the kitchen that needed work. And a little touch-up here and there from the water damage when their roof leaked.

  She groaned. How in the world was she going to cook an impressive meal using camping burners and no oven? What had she been thinking?

  She hadn’t been, obviously. Still, she was excited to see him again. And tomorrow evening she wouldn’t feel like Tommy’s nanny, but a competent woman entertaining at her home.

  What would Charlene say?

  She had acted instinctively—not wanting to miss a chance to spend time with him but knowing she should spend time with her sister after being gone so much.

  What a mess. Now she had to explain everything to Charlene, without giving away her mixed-up feelings. Then spend the day at the zoo with a three-year-old and still come up with some kind of meal to impress Mac.

 

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