by Annie West
Jake grunted out a laugh. They’d worked together for years. Neil could take anything he dished out and was no pushover. He also had a quick, analytical brain.
‘Do you like her?’
‘I told you she’d be good for the job.’
‘Not what I asked. Do you like her? Trust her?’
Neil’s amusement faded. ‘You really are concerned!’ He paused. ‘I’ve barely spoken to her. She seemed...nice. Trying not to show she was nervous while she waited for the interview. But I felt she was genuine, not ignoring me because I’m a lackey nor buttering me up for information about you. And she has a sweet smile.’
Jake shook his head. ‘A sweet smile? Good thing I’m hiring the nanny, not you.’
Neil shrugged. ‘You asked. I like her better than the one with two Masters Degrees. That one might know the theories of child development but I’m not sure she’d cope with a carsick kid.’
Jake thought of that eye-opening car trip through the Alps when he discovered Ariane didn’t travel well.
‘You have a point.’ He shoved his chair back. ‘I’ll leave you to finish up. I’m going to check on this would-be nanny.’
Jake was at the door when Neil spoke. ‘There was one other thing I noticed about Ms Rivage.’ He turned and caught the gleam in his secretary’s eyes. ‘She has spectacular legs.’
* * *
Those legs were on display when Jake reached Ariane’s playroom. Rugs lined the floor and padded window seats held bright cushions and dolls. But it wasn’t Ariane or her room that snared his attention. It was Caro Rivage standing on a small stool, arms raised above her head as she reached for something on a high shelf.
Neil was right. She had spectacular legs. Fabulous legs.
She’d taken off her shoes and stood on tiptoe, the stance accentuating the fine curve of her calf. She’d removed her jacket. Jake saw it draped over the back of a nearby chair. Her white blouse strained over her breasts.
Something dug into his belly, grabbing tight. His nostrils flared on a quick inhale. His gaze tracked down to her toes and up over the loosely fitted skirt to a lithe torso revealed by that taut blouse. Then up the long, feminine arch of her tilted neck to her bundled-up hair.
Jake’s breath expelled in a rush that left him almost light-headed.
Stripped of her conservative shoes and unflattering jacket, Caro Rivage was slim, svelte, feminine and intriguing. A different sort of intriguing from the way he’d viewed her earlier.
Except Jake knew that was a lie. Despite her prim pose and drab clothes, he’d been aware from the first of this woman’s magnetism. It was a sly thing. Not overt like Fiona’s blonde beauty and overtly sexy curves.
Even as he’d catalogued and dismissed Caro Rivage’s expertise, at another level, that of primitive male, he’d been aware of the attractive woman behind the pursed lips and downcast eyes.
Heat drilled down from his temples to his gut, boring straight to his groin.
Did this explain his resistance? Was it why he didn’t want to employ her? Because he responded to her as a man to a woman, not a boss to a governess?
He sucked air into tight lungs. Business and pleasure didn’t mix. He had no intention of beginning anything personal with a staff member.
After Fiona he’d found it easy to avoid the charms of the opposite sex. Except, to his horrified fascination, he realised sex was the operative word here.
Caro Rivage bit her lip, shifted her hips in a way that shouldn’t be in the least provocative yet turned up his inner thermostat from hot to scorching. The tug of desire dragging at his groin told its own story. It wasn’t one he wanted to hear.
But Jake prided himself on facing facts.
She wasn’t gorgeous like the women he dated. She wasn’t his type. He hadn’t decided if he could trust her, yet he was attracted.
Urgently attracted.
Worse, he felt compelled to give her a chance despite his better judgement because his niece showed every sign of bonding with her. That rankled. Jake made a point of being the one to dictate terms. He didn’t take kindly to being forced into decisions. But little Ariane had held herself aloof from everyone except her teddy since the accident that killed her parents. Seeing her shy excitement with Caro Rivage was a profound relief. It was the first time she’d smiled properly in a month.
What option did he have but to give this nanny a chance?
She expelled an exasperated breath that puffed up the strands of brown hair drifting free of her brutally neat bun. She looked ruffled and pink-cheeked and Jake knew a growing curiosity to see her flushed and rumpled for other reasons.
‘Can I help with that, Ms Rivage?’ His voice hit a resonant baritone note that betrayed the trend of his thoughts. He could only hope she wasn’t as adept at reading men as she was little kids.
* * *
His deep voice came out of nowhere, lassoing her around the middle and drawing her off balance. Caro teetered on her toes, arms windmilling, then warmth enveloped her. Hard warmth that wound around her and held her steady.
She registered a broad palm and long fingers splayed across her hip bone. A solid body, all heat against hers, and near her breasts a head of tousled dark hair.
She hauled in a shocked breath and wished she hadn’t. This close she could smell Jake Maynard’s skin, warm and scented with bergamot and citrus. Her eyes sneaked shut for a self-indulgent moment, enjoying that fresh, masculine tang.
He was Ariane’s uncle. A potential employer. An obstacle to be overcome. She couldn’t think of him as a desirable man.
She hadn’t considered any man in that way for years. Not since she’d been blindsided by Mike’s smiling attentiveness, then gutted by his betrayal.
Reluctantly she looked down to Jake Maynard standing with his head a whisper away from her breasts. Dark brows contracted over brilliant grey eyes that no longer looked icy. Instead they reminded her of the heat haze she’d seen rising over boiling geothermal pools in Iceland. Heat drenched her skin and sank into her bones.
Still she shivered.
‘You can let go. I’m not going to fall.’
She wondered if he heard her, though his gaze was anchored to her face.
‘Even so. I’ll get whatever you need. I’d rather you didn’t take a tumble.’
His voice was brisk, his movements quick as he lifted her off the stool. Yet when he’d swung her to the floor he took his time releasing her. Caro was inordinately conscious of the weight and size of those hands. Of his tall frame, close enough to lean into. Of the tendril of beckoning male scent in her nostrils.
She stepped back smartly and he dropped his hold.
Belatedly she looked at Ariane, who’d turned back to the puzzle on the floor. Was it just Caro who felt the air thicken and clog when Jake Maynard was around? It must only have been seconds since he strode into the room yet it felt as if time had spun out far longer.
Panic whispered through her but she conquered it. She was stronger than this. No man would derail her plans.
‘Thank you, Mr Maynard.’ She pointed to the top shelf. ‘There’s a puzzle we wanted to try. If you could reach that one I’d be grateful.’
Of course he grabbed it easily, as she would have if he hadn’t taken her by surprise.
‘You like puzzles, Ariane?’ Instead of handing it to Caro he crouched next to his niece. Caro registered the tautness in his folded frame as he waited for Ariane’s response, and the ease of tension when she nodded and whispered that yes, she liked puzzles.
That was when Caro guessed some of his diamond-bright hardness might be down to something other than a demanding nature and a short temper.
Was he worried about Ariane? His movements as he settled himself beside the little girl were ostensibly easy, yet Caro saw how carefully he moved, as if not wanting to spook her. And though Ariane didn’t move away, nor d
id she lean against his big frame. She didn’t burrow close for reassurance as would be natural if she relished the comfort of a beloved uncle.
What was Jake Maynard’s relationship with his niece?
As Caro put away the footstool and tidied a few toys, she observed them. Both were wary, treating each other with the politeness of strangers.
Caro huffed out a relieved breath. At least Ariane wasn’t afraid of her uncle. If she had been... Well, she didn’t know what she’d have done but she wouldn’t have been able to watch without taking action.
The urge to declare herself and her relationship with Ariane was almost overwhelming.
Caro imagined announcing the truth, at which point little Ariane would fling herself into her waiting arms and it would be as if they’d never been apart.
Then what? Jake Maynard would simply relinquish his niece to her care?
She didn’t even have to look at the obstinate angle of his jaw to know that wouldn’t happen.
It was a nice fantasy but it would never be that easy. Announcing the truth would be complicated, especially since she had no intention of letting Ariane be taken from her again.
If she declared herself now she’d upset Ariane, who wouldn’t understand why a strange woman claimed to be her mum. Plus she’d infuriate Jake Maynard who’d chuck her out of his castle before she could draw a second breath.
He’d think her mad.
Even if he didn’t, if by some miracle she managed to convince him, he wouldn’t let her stay. She’d seen his distrust and his protectiveness of his niece. If he had an inkling of the truth, she doubted she’d see Ariane again till they’d been through the mill of lawyers and courts. That could take years.
Caro pinched the bridge of her nose, tasting the rust tang of blood where she’d bitten her cheek.
She should have made a plan before coming here. A sensible plan with actions ready for every contingency. Instead, when she got this opportunity she’d sped here, needing to see Ariane.
Though it went against every instinct, Caro had to be patient. To wait, gain Ariane’s trust and her uncle’s. To work out how best to approach this.
Even if Jake Maynard didn’t have a close relationship with Ariane, he cared for her. Caro guessed she was only here now because she and Ariane had connected. Not, she sternly told herself, because of their blood ties, but because they shared a common language.
It was ridiculous to think Ariane sensed their link though to Caro it was so blatant, so strong, she almost expected a fanfare and bright lights, as if a contestant on a TV show had won a fortune.
Abruptly the enormity of the situation hit her in slicing blows to her knees and stomach. She pressed her palm to her belly. There was a searing sensation inside, as if her baby had been ripped from her womb.
Caro’s knees folded but she caught at a chair and collapsed on its cushioned seat. Ariane half lifted her head, looking for her, then, satisfied she was nearby, turned to Jake Maynard, pointing out something on the puzzle spread across the floor. Fortunately he was turned away from her. She hated to think of that intense scrutiny on her now.
Caro breathed through the pain, telling herself it wasn’t real. There could be no physical pain now. It was well over four years since she’d gone through labour and an excruciatingly difficult childbirth.
But though her rampaging pulse slowed, the pain persisted.
It was the ache of loss, familiar because she’d endured it so long. Strange to feel it now when for the first time she had hope for the future.
She breathed deep, absorbing the fact that she’d found her daughter.
It was a miracle.
Caro had never let herself believe it possible. The idea that her baby was alive somewhere without her had been the fraught stuff of nightmares, taunting her till she awoke tearful and distressed, to the real world where such things couldn’t happen.
Except it had.
Her jaw clenched and pain spiked from her grinding molars. She knew who was to blame.
Her hands curled into fists that trembled with the force of her emotion. Slowly, each joint aching with effort, she smoothed her hands on her thighs, feeling the bunch of stressed muscles beneath the fabric.
One day there’d be time to think of confronting the person responsible. Not today.
Her gaze slewed to the bright head bent over the puzzle and her heart lurched.
All that mattered was that she’d found her baby. That she was with her. She’d do whatever it took to stay at her side. And she wouldn’t let anything, including Jake Maynard, stand in her way.
* * *
Jake forked his fingers through his hair, leaning back in his chair and rolling his shoulders. He’d had enough for tonight.
Trying to make progress with this new scheme was like wading through treacle in cement boots. He’d thought it easier to do business in Switzerland where he could access the principals in person, and he’d been right, to some extent.
He swivelled his chair, surveying the tapestries on the thick castle walls. His lips twisted. A medieval castle was a far cry from his usual surroundings.
The exclusive location meant he’d been able to entice some of the key players to this ultra-private retreat after the international summit in the next valley. That had provided impetus to his plans, but not as much as he’d like. There was a lot of work to do.
He wanted to stay in Europe to see how Ariane went. He’d thought of taking her back to St Ancilla for a visit. He was torn between thinking it could ease her pain and fearing it might send her back into the blank state of shock she’d been in at the hospital.
She needed time and he needed expert advice. Meanwhile, they’d stay here. This castle, rented from an acquaintance, was as good a place as any to keep Ariane from the media limelight. If any more intruding journalists turned up he’d simply drop the portcullis.
Jake turned and noticed a scrap of wool on the floor. It must have fallen when Ariane’s bear was mended.
His thoughts zipped from his niece to the woman he’d invited to stay overnight.
He couldn’t quite believe he’d done that when he hadn’t offered the better qualified applicants such a chance.
He got to his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Caro Rivage had no criminal record and her references checked out. She was what she seemed, a woman who liked kids and had some experience with them. A woman well-regarded by her employers.
Yet something about Ms Rivage gave him pause. If only he could put his finger on it.
But how could he send her away after seeing Ariane’s smile? The way she chattered with the woman, eager to be with her.
Jake stretched and looked at his watch. Almost midnight. He switched off the child monitor, knowing from the silence that Ariane was sound asleep. But he always checked on her before turning in.
Minutes later he reached Ariane’s room. In the dim illumination from a nightlight he saw her curled up, thumb in mouth and her other hand hooked around her teddy. Jake’s heart tugged.
She might not have been born Connie’s daughter but Ariane was as much his niece as if his sister had carried her for nine months. Seeing the love in his sister’s eyes for the tiny red-headed bundle, Jake had loved her from the first too.
He vowed he’d do better for her from now on. The first four and a half years of her life he’d been so focused on his projects that he hadn’t spent enough time with his family, stopping by for quick visits and relying on long-distance calls to keep up to date.
Because he hadn’t realised Connie would be ripped away.
That familiar pang filled Jake’s chest as he thought of his older sister, moving across the world to be with the man she loved. After her early years of struggle it had been a relief to see her settled with a nice bloke.
Jake turned, ready for his own bed, and his
gaze caught a figure sitting in the corner. A figure he hadn’t noticed because it was as still as the massive, carved wardrobe behind it.
The hairs at his nape sprang to attention. His scalp prickled and even the hairs on his arms lifted.
Caro Rivage could have been a statue. Her absolute stillness was uncanny. As was the way her gaze fixed so intently on Ariane.
It wasn’t surprising to see a nanny in a child’s room but surely not like this? Suspicion stirred.
‘What are you doing here?’
She jumped, her hand flying to her chest as if to hold in her heart. Her face swung wide-eyed towards him.
Instantly his urgent protectiveness of Ariane faded.
He’d never seen someone look so vulnerable. Her dark eyes were...haunted. Her mouth gaped and her chest heaved as if she’d had the shock of her life.
This wasn’t the expression of someone up to no good, but of someone utterly defenceless. Jake saw a terrible starkness in her face. Then her expression smoothed. She rose and crossed the room.
Did he imagine a pulsing charge of energy as she stopped before him? He frowned, thrown by the flight of fancy. Nevertheless, once more his senses stirred into overdrive in her presence. It was unlooked for and disturbing.
‘I was checking Ariane.’
Jake darted a glance at his niece, still sleeping, then jerked his head towards the door. When they were in the hall he scrutinised the woman before him. The light was better here but it was impossible to interpret her expression. She looked self-contained, as if presenting an unreadable front came naturally.
Again his sixth sense twitched a warning.
‘A glance would have told you she was settled. You looked as if you’d been there for some time. Why?’
Something stirred, a fleeting expression, and Jake realised how pale she was, how tightly she held her mouth. His gaze lowered, past a fast-flickering pulse at her throat to the enveloping jacket and skirt. She hadn’t even been to bed?
She swallowed and something jerked in his belly as he watched her slender throat work, feeling the tension vibrate off her in waves.