Nanny to the Billionaire's Son

Then the wall to the right began to fold into panels and open revealing the dance floor and the orchestra providing the music. Along one wall a buffet table lavishly displayed desserts of all types. Two large open bars flanked the buffet tables. The rest of the room sparkled beneath the crystal chandeliers that illuminated the space, dimmed slightly to provide a sense of intimacy in the huge ballroom.

The music began and Mac turned to Sam. “Care to dance?”

She nodded, her heart kicking up again. She had hoped to have a chance, but hadn’t expected such a dashing partner. As they walked to the dance floor, she noticed the covert glances given them. All for Mac, she knew. She smiled, delighted to be in the company of the best-looking man in the room.

In seconds they were on the dance floor moving to the waltz the orchestra played so well. So far so good. She’d enjoy her dance and then leave. It wasn’t so awkward eating with a group but once dancing began, couples would rule the event.

As Mac continued to sweep her around the dance floor effortlessly, she forgot about the fear she’d be exposed and escorted from the ball. She could only see Mac, smell the enticing scent of his aftershave, relish the strength of the muscles beneath his jacket. He danced divinely and Samantha felt like a kid in a candy store. She loved to dance. With a sister confined to a wheelchair, however, she cherished it even more, though she rarely went to dances. Which made tonight especially delightful. Closing her eyes, she moved with the music, relishing the sensations that seeped in. Mac was an excellent partner. It had been far too long since she’d gone out for the sole purpose of enjoying herself. Perhaps it presaged a better year in the offing. She hoped so.

“You’re very quiet,” Mac said midway through the waltz.

“I’m enjoying myself immensely,” she said with a quick glance up. His dark eyes were mesmerizing. Seconds spun by. She wanted to trace that slight dimple in his left cheek. Wanted to shift her hand from his shoulder to his neck and feel the warmth of his skin. She wanted to learn more about the stranger with whom she danced so superbly. The night was full of magic and she savored every moment. All too soon it would end and she’d be back to her day-to-day routine.

She knew she was on borrowed time, but a few stolen moments of dancing with Mac were worth any risk. If anyone official made a beeline toward her, she’d dash out of one of the doors and vanish into the night.

“There aren’t many New Year’s Eve parties these days that have a full ballroom and the music to go with it,” Mac commented.

She nodded and murmured in agreement. She knew the ball’s primary goal was to raise money, but more than anything else, it provided an elegant evening to all who attended. What a way to end the old year and usher in the new.

“Are you from Atlanta?” Mac asked.

“Born and bred,” she said, giving up the quiet to respond. He was trying to talk and she was acting like a tongue-tied schoolgirl. Get with it, Sam. “You?”

“Born in Savannah, came here a decade ago.”

“Savannah has a lot of charm. Atlanta is the New York of the South—dynamic and exciting—but perhaps it’s not as charming as Savannah.”

“It suits me to a T,” he said.

Sam smiled and wondered what he did, where in the city he lived. What part of living here he liked best.

She wished she could say Atlanta suited her. She glanced over his shoulder, feeling the sudden aching longing for the path she once thought she’d take. Her dream of becoming a national park ranger and living in some of the western parks with wide-open spaces and nature’s bounty evident everywhere had ended with the car crash that had changed her life.

Instead she was surrounded by glass and concrete and heavy traffic. And she hated almost every moment.

The music ended, but Mac kept hold of her hand.

“Since you came alone, as did I, would you care for another dance?” he asked.

“Thank you, I’d like that.” She felt a tingling in her hand where his clasped hers. For a second or two she could almost imagine they were on a date together. That he was interested in her and wanted to see her again. They’d ring in the New Year together and then slip away to a quiet place just for the two of them.

But even if he asked her, she’d have to say no. Before long it would be midnight and time to leave. Even if they did spend some time together, once he met Charlene, he’d pull back like the others. The perfect man who would sweep her off her feet, loving her as no one ever had before, and committing to a life together forever, just didn’t exist.

Forget commitment, she admonished herself. Until it was time to leave, she should squeeze out every last bit of fun.

When the music began again it was a faster beat. The dancing wasn’t as conducive to conversation, which suited Sam. She liked dancing with Mac, but knew it was a night out of time. Monday morning she’d be back at her desk at the Beale Foundation and that night working with the cleaning crew at the towers.

When the song ended, Mac once again touched her, this time at the small of her back as he guided her from the floor. He was a sensuous man, and she felt cherished and feminine. She hadn’t been touched like that in a long time and she’d never felt this way before.

“Want something to drink?” he asked, nodding toward the bar.

“As thirsty as I am right now, the only thing would be water,” she said.

“Iced sparkling water it is,” he said as he escorted her toward one of the large bars serving the guests. The line moved quickly. Sam watched the dancers on the floor, glancing back to the dining tables. More people were standing around talking than dancing. She would have taken advantage of the orchestra and not merely talked with friends. She didn’t want to miss a beat.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her a tall glass of ice and sparkling water. She drank quickly, glad for the refreshment. He’d also asked for water and finished before she did, guiding them to where a tray for empties stood. Sam drained her glass and put it down beside his.

The lights dimmed and another slow song began.

“Another dance?” he asked.

She hesitated. But temptation proved too strong.

“I’d love one more,” she said.

Once they were circling the floor, Sam wondered if her imagination was playing tricks or if Mac held her even closer than before. Not that she minded. She rested her forehead against his jaw and closed her eyes again. Dancing like this was pure heaven. The shimmering feelings that swept through her only added to the magical feel of the night.

“Having fun?” he asked softly.

“The best time,” she replied, realizing it was true. She was so glad she’d come.

“Me, too. More than I expected.”

She pulled back and looked at him. “Why’s that?”

“I thought this more of a duty event—show up, be seen, go home. You’re an unexpected bonus.”

She smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called a bonus before.”

His phone vibrated. She could feel it as they danced.

He stopped and pulled it out, glancing at the number calling. “Excuse me, I need to take this.” He guided them to the edge of the floor as he flipped open the phone and spoke.

“Tommy? What’s up? Why aren’t you in bed?”

Sam watched the others dancing, but listened to the man talking. Was the call from a child?

A few moments later Mac hung up. “Sorry about that. Tommy’s my son—he wanted to wait up to wish me Happy New Year, but has to go to bed now, he’s too tired to stay up.”

“Oh.” Sam had not expected something like this. “I thought you said you weren’t married,” she commented, suddenly wary.

“I’m not. My wife died three years ago. Today proved to be a hard day. Our longtime housekeeper is leaving in the morning and Tommy’s never known anyone else. I have a new person starting Monday, so for a few days we’ll be batching it ourselves.”

Sam nodded, her perception of Mac undergoing a subtle change. While he was still wildly attractive, any fantasy she might have had of them becoming a couple came to an abrupt end. She had her own baggage and couldn’t see herself taking on another’s. Not that children weren’t delightful and a blessing, but she was already tied down. She would never achieve her dream if she became entangled with children.

“How old is he?” she asked, curious despite her resolve.

“Just three. It’s a cute age.”

She smiled. She wouldn’t know; she didn’t have the occasion to be around many young children. Her work was with disabled adults, not kids.

The music was still playing, and he took her back into his arms and they moved onto the floor once again.

It wasn’t fair, Sam thought as she rested her head against him again. She wanted one fantasy evening and now that was no longer the same knowing Mac was a father and so involved with his son he’d answer a phone call in the middle of a dance.

But wouldn’t she if Charlene called?

Family came first. Sighing softly, she tried to capture the sparkle from earlier. It wasn’t hard being held in Mac’s arms. Soon she once again pretended it was just the two of them dancing on a cloud. The music was the perfect tempo; the feelings evoked were nostalgic and warm. Unlike the experience of being held in this man’s arms. She felt as if she were on the edge of a cliff—one step could send her flying, or crashing to the bottom.

When the song ended, she looked up as the countdown to the New Year began.

Ten, nine, eight…

People around the ballroom began the chant. Sam could feel Mac’s arms tighten slightly as the lights dimmed even more.

…five, four, three…two…one.

Balloons popped, confetti showered down and the band began the strains to the familiar “Auld Lang Syne.”

“Happy New Year, Samantha. May all your dreams come true,” Mac said and kissed her.

After the first second of surprise, she relaxed. His lips were warm and seeking. She closed her eyes and relished every nanosecond. She’d met him only a few hours earlier, but it seemed entirely right to return his kiss to bring in the New Year. Her heart pounded and her body quivered in anticipation. Heat swept through her. Was this the beginning of a great year? Would she ever see him again?

He ended the kiss when the band started to play a different tune. It took a moment for her to come down to earth. Once again he led and Sam tried to get her spinning senses under control. She never did things like this. She was practical, not given to girlish dreams and foolish hopes. Still, without thought, she smiled and snuggled just a little bit closer. She felt cherished, special, connected—as if they were a couple. A woman could dream once in a while, couldn’t she?

At the end of that song, the music tempo picked up and Sam pulled back. It was getting late. She should leave, however reluctantly.

“Another drink?” he asked as they walked from the dance floor.

“That would be lovely,” she said. This time the line at the bar wasn’t as long and in only moments they each had a glass of champagne. He touched his glass to hers.

“Make a wish,” he said.

She did, for the future to be brighter than the past. Sipping, she smiled at him.

“Is that a tradition I don’t know about?” she asked.

“In my family it has been. Weddings, christenings, whatever—when we serve champagne, we make wishes. Why not?”

She was charmed. If they had met in other circumstance, she would ask about his family, about other traditions they shared. But this was not her milieu. She was more the jeans-and-sweatshirt type, not one for designer clothes. Mac was perfectly at home, even speaking to people she only knew from the newspapers. Movers and shakers of Atlanta’s vibrant business community.

“Shall we sit this one out?” he asked.

“You needn’t spend the entire evening with me,” she said reluctantly. She didn’t want him to feel she was monopolizing him. And she had to leave. In a few more minutes. She’d claim just a bit more time before walking away.

“If not you, then who?”

She looked around. The only single woman she saw looked old enough to be his grandmother.

He caught her direction and laughed, leaning closer to speak softly. “She’s not my type. I like pretty brunettes with chocolate-brown eyes.”

Sam could scarcely breathe. He was too close. If she turned her face, her lips would brush his cheek. Suddenly she longed to kiss him again, to feel the stirring emotions his touch brought. Was he flirting with her?

She dare not take that for granted. Remember your real life, she admonished herself silently. Yet it seemed so far away this evening. In the normal course of events, she could never have spent five hundred dollars for a ticket to tonight’s ball. She didn’t move in these social circles. She was a working woman, with a dependent sister, an ancient house and no chance to change things in the near future.

He held out her chair and she sat, glad for the glass of champagne to hold on to, and to study to avoid looking at him. He couldn’t read minds, could he?

“I’m sorry your wife died. That must have been awful,” she said.

“It was.” He sat beside her, angling his chair slightly for more room. “Chris was only twenty-eight. Who’d expect anyone to die that young?”

“That’s tragic,” she replied sympathetically.

“She left me with Tommy. If it weren’t for him I don’t know if I would have made it. But he needed me as an infant, and he needs me even more now.”

The brief glimpse of Mac’s personal life touched her. He appeared successful and confident with everything going for him. Who would suspect such a tragedy had befallen him?

“Hey, Mac, I didn’t know you were coming. Thought you said you wouldn’t make it.” A couple stopped by the table and greeted him. He rose and shook hands with the man, kissing the woman on the cheek. “I changed my mind. It’s a nice event, and a good cause.”

The woman looked at Sam and then at Mac. “A change from your usual style?” she asked in a teasing tone.

Sam looked away. He was not seeing her, either. This was getting awkward. Maybe she should take this opportunity to leave, much as she hated for her special evening to end.

Another couple walked by and the first stopped them.

“Jerry, you wanted to meet Mac McAlheny, here’s your chance. Mac, this is Jerry Martin, head of Windsong Industries. I’m surprised you two haven’t met before.”

Samantha instantly went still. Oh, no! The CEO’s office of McAlheny Industries was where she’d found the ticket, crumpled in the trash. Her heart raced.

Ohmygod, she’d been dancing with the man! Talking with him. Kissing him.

She had spent the evening with Mac McAlheny!

She had to escape before he realized she’d taken the invitation from his office. She hadn’t exactly stolen it—it was trash after all. But she wasn’t sure the CEO of one of Atlanta’s fastest-growing high-tech firms would see it that way.

She looked at the door across the room in panic. She had to leave. Right now.

“Excuse me, I need to find the ladies,” she said, pushing back from the table. Her eyes met Mac’s. She wanted to smile, but was afraid to do anything but escape while she had the chance. To be discovered at this late date would be beyond embarrassing.

Weaving her way through the tables and the people standing around talking, she quelled the temptation to run. She kept taking deep, slow breaths to ease the screaming panic that assailed her. Once she reached the lobby she almost broke into a run to the cloakroom. She retrieved her coat and put it on as she hurried out into the rainy night. Escape was the only thought in her mind.

The doorman called a cab and she was ushered in like royalty. She’d avoided discovery. She sighed with relief and glanced back through the rain-drenched window, but saw only the glittering lights and the doorman in his fancy uniform.

“Goodbye,” she said softly. Her magical evening had ended.

CHAPTER TWO

MAC listened to Jerry talk about one of the deals he had pending all the while trying not to look around to see if Sam had returned. It seemed like a long time since she left, but it could be because he’d rather be with her than the young man going on and on so tediously about something that held no interest for Mac. His friends waited patiently for Jerry to wind down. How long could the man continue? Mac glanced back to the door. Still no sign of Samantha.

When Jerry and his wife finally moved on, Peter shook his head. “Sorry about that. He said once he’d like to meet you, but he does get enthusiastic about his work.”

“Much like you do, darling,” his wife said. She tilted her head slightly when Mac checked his watch and glanced at the double doors across the room.

“Where did your date go?” she asked.

Mac almost corrected her, but thought better of it. If it got back to his latest ex-girlfriend that he was seeing someone else, maybe she’d finally get the message and stop contacting him.

“Ladies’ room, I believe,” he said.

“She’s quite different from Teresa,” she said.

“Teresa and I are no longer seeing each other.”

“So you’ve found someone new already?”

Mac took a breath. Cindy was a noted gossip. He didn’t mind her telling Teresa he was off the market, but he had no intention of offering up Sam as a replacement.

“Let’s just say I’m footloose and fancy-free.”

“With no intention of getting married again,” Cindy said. “That either says marriage was hell with Chris or so beyond marvelous you can’t imagine ever duplicating it.”

“You never met Chris,” her husband said uneasily, as if picking up on Mac’s reaction. “She was quite a woman.”

Mac felt the anguish of her death anew. Four years ago, had they been able to afford it, Chris would have loved to attend the Black and White Ball. But his company had only moved into the big time after her death. He found it ironic that she had worked as hard as he to build McAlheny Industries, yet had died before it expanded to the successful firm it now was.

“Well, darling, we both know Mac has so much charisma that women naturally want his attention. And saying he will never marry again sets up a challenge some women can’t resist.”

“Or it could be that’s simply the way I feel,” he murmured, wondering how rude it would be to just turn and walk away from Cindy. He wanted to spend more time with Sam.

Cindy laughed. “So you say. You’ve made billions with your business. Still—” she studied him for a moment “—I’m telling you, women would be interested even if you were flat broke. Something about your eyes, I think.”

“I doubt it.”

“So did Teresa want a ring on her finger?” Peter asked.

“Apparently. She didn’t take to heart my telling her that I wasn’t marriage material. Why is it when a man’s honest and up-front, women try to change his mind? She’s beautiful, but she’s not someone I want to grow old with.”

Chris was the woman he’d always thought he’d grow old with. No one could take her place. But the past couldn’t be changed. The aneurysm had caught everyone by surprise. She’d been far too young to die. But much as he’d railed against fate, she had not lived to enjoy the fruits of their labor—or their son.

His goal now was to make a difference, for himself and Tommy. His business provided employment to more than a hundred people. He contributed lavishly to several charities, including the Children’s League. Not bad for a poor kid from Savannah.

He glanced at his watch. How long did a woman need? The champagne in her glass would be warm by the time she drank it.

“Who’s your date?” Peter asked.

“I just met her tonight,” Mac said.

“A blind date? Oh, my,” Cindy said with a laugh. “Imagine that.”

“Imagine,” he said dryly. He felt no obligation to explain anything to Cindy.

“Come along, darling, the music is starting again and I want to dance,” Cindy said with an air kiss for Mac. “Good luck with your blind date.”

As the minutes ticked by, Mac began to suspect Sam wasn’t returning. He idly watched the dancing. Glancing around caused a waiter to appear with another glass of champagne. How the Children’s League made money when they spent so lavishly on the ball was beyond him. But he knew donations poured in for this charity.

He looked at the table. Sam’s ticket lay near the center. Was she unable to return because she didn’t have it with her? He reached for it and rose. It wouldn’t hurt to check to see if she was trying to convince one of the men at the door she was supposed to be here.

No sign of her when he entered the lobby. Those that had been checking tickets were no longer there. Maybe once the dinner finished, it didn’t matter as much if anyone crashed the party.

He positioned himself where he could see the restroom doors and waited. After fifteen minutes he knew Sam wasn’t coming back.

He debated returning to the ball but decided he’d made an appearance, supported the charity with money. Kissed in the New Year. He could go home.

His housekeeper of several years was leaving in the morning and his little boy knew no other mother figure. Mac needed to be there for Tommy. There were two agencies searching for the right live-in housekeeper/nanny and he hoped they found someone soon. Mac didn’t want his son to grow attached to Alice Horton, who started on Monday, only to break the tie with her when a more permanent arrangement could be found.

Mrs. Horton was not the solution, but a temporary fix. She had been a nanny for decades and, while sounding a bit strict, she came with impeccable references. He hoped Tommy would accept her until a new housekeeper could be found.

It was still raining when Mac gave the valet attendant his parking ticket. A good night to be home.

Or with an interesting woman who seemed dazzled by the ball yet content to simply enjoy it without flirting every moment or making sultry and suggestive comments as Teresa would have done. Samantha—Sam had made no moves on him after his impulsive kiss at midnight. Yet she’d returned his kiss with passion.

Getting behind the wheel, Mac was surprised to realize he’d enjoyed the evening. He’d gone out of duty and ended up having a good time—no, more than a good time. Sam intrigued him. That was a first. Since Chris’s death, he’d made up his mind to remain single and focus on raising his son, and a chance encounter at a dance wouldn’t change that. But he couldn’t help thinking about Sam as he drove home. Her hair had gleamed in the light, artfully arranged and feminine. For a moment he wondered what she looked like with it in disarray, swirling around her face. Her cheeks had been tinged with color—natural, not cosmetic. But it was her chocolate-brown eyes he remembered the most. They showed her emotions, and twice he was convinced he’d seen awareness in them, as if for a few seconds she saw him as a desirable man.

Her lips had been sweet and her kiss memorable. Mac realized it had been a while since he’d felt anything when kissing someone. Teresa was beautiful, but cool and detached. Dating her had not changed his mind about wanting a new life partner. He doubted anything would.

Still, a few evenings spent together didn’t mean a lifetime commitment.

Only—Sam had left with no way for him to contact her. Had it been deliberate? Had he misread the signs? He would have sworn she had enjoyed herself.

Yet she’d waited until he was occupied with Peter and Cindy and then cut out. If she’d felt any connection between them, wouldn’t she have made sure he knew how to contact her?

As he pulled into his driveway, the full situation hit him. He wouldn’t be going out for quite a while—not until he had a live-in nanny who would be home with Tommy. Until then, Mac had to be home each evening by six, the time Alice Horton left per their agreement when he hired her because Mrs. Horton taught an adult education class and had to be at her school by seven Monday through Thursdays.