Nanny to the Billionaire's Son

by Barbara McMahon

  “Easy fixes. What else?”

  “Can you do kitchens?” she asked wistfully.

  He shrugged. “We can look at it and decide the best strategy.”

  Her hopes soared. Then plunged. She didn’t even have enough money saved to buy the supplies and she did not want to get into debt. “We’ll discuss it later. I have to get to work now.”

  Checking on Tommy proved he was well taken care of by Mrs. Horton and Charlene. Sam was surprised by how different Mrs. Horton looked when she spoke with her sister and Tommy. Maybe she just didn’t like her!

  “Can I drop you at work?” Mac asked as they walked outside a few moments later. “The roads are slippery.”

  “Thanks, but I need the car later.”

  “I’ll come straight back after work, to make sure Tommy doesn’t make a nuisance of himself,” Mac said.

  “Okay, I’ll see you for dinner, then.” She left with a glow she hadn’t felt in a long time. How foolish, just because she knew ahead of time she’d be eating with Mac and Tommy.

  Sam could hardly concentrate on work. Twice in the morning she called home to see how things were going.

  Both times her sister told her everything was fine. “Instead of only Alice watching him, he has two women. But I’m going to have to get new rubber for the wheels if we keep riding around like this.”

  Sam could tell from the tone of voice that Charlene was having a great time.

  “Who’s Alice?” she asked.

  “Alice Horton, the woman who watches Tommy during the day.” Charlene sounded as if she thought Sam had lost her marbles.

  “Oh, I didn’t know her first name.”

  “Mmm, did you ever ask?” Charlene said.

  Sam didn’t reply to that. “Well, I just wanted to make sure Tommy wasn’t too much.”

  Hanging up, she debated calling Mac, but it was a trumped-up excuse at best, so she didn’t. For some reason, thinking of them staying with her for a few days changed things. She felt more proprietary about Mac and Tommy.

  She tried to focus on the project at hand, but thoughts of Mac kept interfering. She remembered how terrific he looked at the zoo. He was definitely high on the masculine chart, yet was gentle with his son. He wasn’t afraid to show his love for Tommy.

  What would it be like to have him turn those brown eyes on her with the same expression? She shivered slightly at the thought. She already knew what kissing him was like.

  How would living with him be? Not that she was exactly living with him—he was just staying with her and her sister until his water pipes were repaired. But surely there’d be a few moments when Mac and she would be alone. Would she learn more about the man, or end up stealing kisses?

  Sam rose, determined to get those fantasies out of her mind. She had work to do—here and at home. She was still Tommy’s nanny in the evenings. Mac might come home tonight to make sure Tommy was all right at her place, but that wasn’t going to be the norm.

  Despite telling herself a dozen times during the day to forget about Mac, she left work promptly at five in a state of high anticipation. She could not wait to see him again!

  Arriving home later than expected due to traffic delays because of weather, Sam was surprised to see Mrs. Horton still sitting on the sofa with Tommy, talking with Charlene. She looked up in surprise. “Is it time to go already?” she asked.

  Sam blinked. Usually the woman met her at the door in her coat.

  “It’s a bit after six. I’m sorry to be late…the roads are treacherous,” she said, taking off her coat and reaching down to give Tommy a hug when he struggled down from the sofa and ran over to her. He began telling her something about a truck but once again his enthusiasm ran away with his words and Sam was hard-pressed to understand much.

  “I’ll run up and change and then get dinner started,” Sam said. She hoped she didn’t show the disappointment that Mac hadn’t returned yet. Maybe he had decided to work late after all. A dozen things could have come up to delay him.

  “I need to be going,” Alice Horton said. “I’ll just make it to class as it is. But the time flew by.”

  “I look forward to tomorrow,” Charlene replied. “Tommy and I will see you out.”

  Sam bid the woman goodbye and then ran lightly up the steps. She swiftly changed into warm pants and a thick sweater. Even with the heat from the camp stove, the kitchen was cold. She had just turned the knob on her door when Tommy knocked.

  Opening it, she smiled down at him.

  “Charlene said find me a sweater, I’m cold.”

  “Of course I will, sweetie, come on.” They went into the guest room where Tommy was staying and Sam found a warm sweater for the little boy.

  “Pictures,” he said as they began walking toward the stairs. He darted into her room and gazed at the large posters she had all around. Arches National Park and Rocky Mountain, Glacier, Yosemite. All the ones she someday hoped to work in. She loved the vistas the posters displayed. It had been years since she put them up, but she never got tired of the views.

  “Tommy?”

  Mac stood in the doorway. He smiled as his son raced across the room and flung himself into his daddy’s arms. Standing, Mac looked at Sam. “I hope he wasn’t making a pest of himself.”

  “Not at all. He was just looking at the pictures.” She gestured a bit self-consciously. How many grown women had posters all over their walls?

  “They’re pretty,” he said, stepping in another couple of feet so he could see them all. Mac took his time studying each one. Then he turned his eyes to the bed Sam slept in. It was not the frilly feminine kind he might have pictured. The dark blue quilt hung to the floor. There were several pillows to snuggle against if she wanted to read in bed. The lighting was prefect for that.

  He glanced at her and saw her still gazing at the posters.

  “All national parks out west,” he guessed. Most had names blazoned across the bottom.

  She nodded. “One day I want to be a park ranger.”

  “One day?”

  “That’s what I’m working on my degree for. If I can get a good job, I can afford to take Charlene with me.”

  “You want to leave Atlanta?” he asked. The thought surprised him. It showed how little he knew about her.

  Sam nodded. “I would have left years ago if not for my sister—not that it’s her fault of course, but she needed me around. So instead of graduating from college when I might have done, I’m still slogging away. But one day…” She trailed off as she smiled at the pictures. They gave her heart a lift. She couldn’t wait to see the actual scenery herself.

  “I know you’ve mentioned this in passing,” he said slowly. “But I didn’t realize how solid a goal it was for you.”

  She looked at him. Was there something more in his tone? Did it matter to him if she left? For a moment she almost smiled. Maybe he’d miss her.

  Suddenly Sam realized she’d miss him. She hardly knew him, but she already felt he was a part of her life. What would it be like when the pipes were repaired and he left? Once she had enough money for all the repairs and she would no longer need a second job?

  She didn’t want to think that far ahead. That would mean not seeing Mac and just the thought of that was disturbing. She stared at him, wondering if going west was the big deal she’d always made it. She was aware of every inch of the man, from his solidly planted feet to the top of his head, which just cleared under her door frame. He looked breathtaking in his dark suit and white shirt that looked as fresh holding Tommy right now as it had that morning.

  For a moment the intimacy of being in her bedroom hit her. It was as if he belonged here. Which was an odd thought. No man had ever been in her room before.

  They had never done more than exchange a few kisses. But for a moment she felt as if he’d come in here a thousand times.

  “I need to get supper started,” she said. Mac and Tommy blocked the door. The room seemed to grow smaller. Would he come help? Instantly the im
age of Mac and her working together sprang to the forefront.

  “I came up to find Tommy.” He eyed her clothing and added, “And change before supper.”

  “Plenty of time. See you downstairs.”

  It took Sam a few moments to get her equilibrium under control when she reached the kitchen. She had no reason to want him to help her. The space was limited and she’d manage better alone—especially if she felt that anticipation and awareness every moment he was around. How could she concentrate on ingredients if she was distracted?

  But what a distraction.

  She laughed softly at her silliness and set to getting things ready for a meal.

  When she was almost finished, she went to the archway to the dining room. The place was empty but she heard voices from the living room. They’d placed the table there to eat the other evening and would be using it until the McAlhenys left. She and Charlene usually just ate in the kitchen. It was easier for her sister.

  Walking through to the living room, Sam saw Mac sitting on the floor with Tommy playing cars. Charlene was nearby, watching them as she and Mac talked.

  Sam was torn. Despite herself, a small spark of jealousy rose. Yet she was delighted her sister forgot her situation long enough to talk comfortably with such a sexy guy. Maybe—

  Tommy spied her and jumped up, running to her. He never seemed to walk when he could run.

  “Is dinner ready?” he asked, jumping up and down.

  “Yes, we just need to set the table,” she replied, glancing once more at Mac.

  “I can help,” Tommy said.

  Mac rose effortlessly, all flowing male muscles and sexy good looks. His hair was a bit mussed. The look in his eyes make her heart race. She wished she could drag him away somewhere and kiss until neither one of them knew their names. But a quick glance at Charlene convinced her she better watch her step. Her sister was studying her with a speculative expression. No sense giving credence to that growing speculation.

  “Okay, come on then,” Sam said to Tommy.

  He beamed a smile and nodded, already heading for the kitchen.

  It took a bit longer than it otherwise would have with Tommy helping, but soon they were sitting down to pork chops and rice with two vegetables. Tommy protested, but his dad told him he liked them, so the little boy was soon eating.

  Sam took a bite and caught Mac’s eye. The food turned to sawdust in her mouth and she couldn’t look away. The slow heat that built surprised her. For heaven’s sake, she was at dinner with her sister and his son. But it felt as if it were just the two of them in the world.

  Making an effort to break his gaze, she quickly finished the mouthful and took a long drink of water. If that happened again, she’d never get her dinner eaten. She deliberately kept her eyes off the man until she’d had enough food. If she went gaga every time she looked at him, the entire world would soon notice—especially Mac.

  That sobering thought had her reviewing all the times they’d spent together. She hadn’t acted like a total idiot, had she?

  Mac watched Sam as they ate. She met his gaze only once the entire meal. Was she regretting inviting him and Tommy to stay with them? Maybe he should find other accommodations for the next few days. He didn’t want her to feel awkward in her own house.

  Or was it that? Did he imagine the faint pink tinge to her cheeks? Maybe there was a reciprocal feeling on her side. He’d watched the clock all day in anticipation of returning to the Duncans’ home. Only to be met by Sam with the information she wanted to move away from Atlanta. That was his home. The place his business was thriving. The place where he’d buried his wife. It had a special hold on his life. Now Samantha was talking about leaving.

  Chris. What would she think of all this?

  For a moment the ache of loss hit him again. But oddly, it didn’t feel as devastating as before. More like an old injury flaring up, but not the immediate intensity of the injury. Was he finally getting over her?

  Panic touched. He’d loved Chris for years and he didn’t want to get over her. He wanted to mourn her all his life. They should have had fifty or sixty years together.

  Instead he was staying with a newly met woman, and feeling some of the same tug of awareness he’d once felt for his wife.

  Mac frowned. Staying here had been a mistake. Yet one look at Tommy’s face, with his sunny smile, bright eyes and way he hung on everything Sam or Charlene said made the stay worthwhile. Mac would do anything for his son. Chris had missed so much. He ached to think she’d never seen Tommy smile, heard his laughter. Helped him get dressed, or eat. She’d missed it all.

  And Tommy had missed having a mother. Louise had been wonderful, but she’d left. Mrs. Horton was temporary, even Sam was temporary. He should provide better for his son.

  But to get married just to give Tommy a mother? He couldn’t do that. Not after knowing and loving Chris. He needed time to think. Or to find the perfect housekeeper who would stay until Tommy grew up.

  He’d interviewed one woman last week, but found fault with her. Was he being too particular? No, he rejected that thought immediately. Not where his son was concerned.

  Charlene said something and Mac looked at her. “I’m sorry, I was woolgathering, I guess. What was that?”

  “I was just saying how much I enjoy Alice. She’s an avid quilter, you know.”

  Quilter? “No, I didn’t know.” Truth be told, he knew little beyond her references and application. He was always in a rush to leave when she arrived, and now Sam was home when he got back each night.

  “We had a lovely time today when Tommy was napping.” Charlene turned to Sam. “She’s going to try my garden window pattern.”

  The talk about quilts reminded him about Chris’s friend who so loved quilts. He’d have to give her a call after dinner and see if she’d come look at Charlene’s work. If it was as good as it seemed to him, maybe Monica could find an outlet for some pieces which would bring in some much-needed money to this family.

  Which reminded him of another project.

  “I asked one of the contractors I know to check out your kitchen this week and give me some directions for things I can do. I thought I’d get started on Saturday. But I need help.”

  How blatant was that? If Sam had any doubts he wanted to spend the day with her, that should settle them. Though he wasn’t sure she’d find working on their kitchen fun. But it would at least give them a chance to talk while they worked.

  She looked at him then and smiled. “You were serious about helping,” she exclaimed.

  He nodded. He always kept his word.

  “Thank you.”

  She quickly explained to her sister who joined in offering to watch Tommy so he wouldn’t get in the way while they worked.

  Mac thanked her, wondering how a wheelchair-bound woman would watch a rambunctious little boy like Tommy. But at least he’d just be in the kitchen, not far away if she needed him.

  When dinner ended, Charlene insisted on doing the dishes. When Sam agreed, but said she’d clear the table, Mac felt free to spend time with Tommy until bed. Then he’d call Monica.

  Once he put his son to bed, he went to the small room Sam had pointed out as their home office. He pulled the door shut and looked up Monica’s number.

  “Mac, I haven’t heard from you in ages. What’s going on with you? How’s Tommy?” she asked after greetings had been exchanged.

  “Growing as fast as he can. I’m calling for a favor. I’ve recently met a woman who does quilts.”

  “Ah, is she important?”

  “Not in that way. But I think the things she’s done look great and wanted an expert opinion. Would you mind?”

  “Things are a bit slow now with the Christmas rush over. I could squeeze in something for an old friend. As long as I get to see you and Tommy.”

  “Tommy for sure. I’ll try to make it.”

  They chatted for a little longer and Mac gave her the address. He had barely hung up when Sam knocked on th
e door.

  He crossed over and opened it. “I was on the phone. Come in, I want to talk to you.”

  He took her hand, and immediately felt a tingling awareness that caught him unaware. Shutting the door, he leaned against it and pulled her into his arms. “I really did want to discuss something with you, but it’ll have to wait.” Lowering his head, he kissed her.

  For a moment he thought she wouldn’t respond, but in only seconds, Sam pushed against him, encircling his neck with her arms and kissing him back for all she was worth. It was spectacular. Endless time floated by as he felt her body stretched against his, the sweetness of her mouth. Her tongue danced with his as they extended the kiss.

  Finally they were both breathing hard. He rested his forehead on hers, gazing down into her warm brown eyes.

  She smiled at him, dreamily. He felt desire sweep through him like lightning. He wanted her. He hadn’t felt anything like this in years, maybe ever. It was as if his next breath depended on Sam being in his life.

  “That’s some discussion,” she murmured.

  “Oh, yeah, that.” Slowly he released her, making sure she was steady before pushing away from the door and stepping away. He needed some space if he was going to be able to think.

  He told her about Monica and her agreement to visit and see if Charlene’s quilts were something she could sell.

  “What do you mean?” Sam asked, suddenly wary.

  “Monica has a fashionable boutique in the Galleria. She agreed to see if she could do anything with Charlene’s work.”

  “You asked her without checking with us first?”

  “If Monica says no, there’s no harm done,” he said easily. Why was Sam getting upset?

  “Do you know how long it’s been since Charlene was in that accident? Almost ten years. In all that time she has never tried to sell a quilt. I think her work is beautiful, exquisite. But what if not everyone agrees with me? Think how her self-esteem will be shattered if your friend waltzes in and declares them not worthy.”

  He leveled a gaze at her. “What if she comes in and thinks the pieces are as exquisite as you and I do? What if she can sell them and provide a source of income for Charlene?”