The Nanny and the Millionaire: Promoted: Nanny to Wife / The Italian Tycoon and the Nanny / The Millionaire's Nanny Arrangement

What was he supposed to say anyway? ‘I’m doing my level best, Ms Devlin—a deliberate plot to try to keep her at a distance?—I’m very fond of Georgy. I support her in every way I can, but I’m only human. Georgia’s not mine!’

He had spent a lot of time wondering whether the rock star should at least be told he had a daughter. He knew he would want to know if somewhere in the world a child of his existed. He would owe that child, his own flesh and blood. The one and only time he had spoken to Tara about it had set off a near psychotic episode. She had become hysterical, smashing things, valuable things. No one was to ever know. She had taken it completely for granted he would do the best for Georgia as he had supported her right through her pregnancy.

But no way was he going to remain married to her.

That had precipitated another crisis but he had been adamant. He wanted a divorce.

The upshot was Tara had left Wungalla in a blind fury. She had left him with her child. I don’t want the ugly little thing! I never wanted her. She was an appalling accident. You keep her you’re so bloody sanctimonious!

Tara had left, feeling utterly secure in her belief he would remain silent on the issue of Georgia’s paternity. In many ways it was a dilemma. He didn’t believe he should live a lie. He didn’t believe Georgia should be denied the truth. But at what stage should he tell her?

A dilemma indeed, with the blue-eyed, so innocent looking Ms Devlin looking at him with naked reproach in her eyes when he was a man long used to respect.

Holt surprised them one afternoon by coming back with Dusty, saying he was going to take them all to the Blue Lotus lagoon, a permanent water hole on the station where the sacred water lilies were out in all their glory. Dusty, back in his element as a working dog, got very excited around Marissa and the children. Holt allowed them to play for a few moments then he brought Dusty to heel with a firm, ‘Sit, boy!’

Dusty did, thumping his tail good-naturedly, a grin all over his face.

‘Oh, this is such fun!’ Georgy trilled, clapping her hands together. ‘Isn’t Dusty beautiful? I always wanted a dog. Riley is going to teach me to swim, Dad, when you get me some propers swimmers. Marissa said you would.’

‘And she was absolutely right.’ Holt opened the doors of the 4WD, his heart breaking a little at the sound of that ‘Dad.’ Georgy rarely called him Dad and he had to admit he hadn’t encouraged it. ‘Okay, pile in.’

Marissa who adored the bush and had made a few early morning forays on her own when the children were still asleep, found the Blue Lotus lagoon a place of magic right in the heart of the red plains country. It was sheltered from the desert winds by towering river gums and an under canopy of feathery acacias their branches interlacing. The large lagoon was a shining dark green with great patches of the lavender-blue water lilies holding their long exquisite heads above the surface of the water and their glossy pads. It was a wonderfully cool green world in great contrast to the sun scorched plains.

Marissa hovered at the top of the grassy slope while the children accompanied by a romping Dusty took off for the sandy banks that surrounded the long near moon-shaped lagoon.

Holt, standing midway, turned back to her, unwilling to reveal how the sight of her, the sound of her, was a source of great pleasure to him. He had missed seeing her all the time he’d been away. Which just served to show what a sterile thing his life had become when really his working life had a lot of drama.

Face it. He wanted a wife. Not a stepmother for Georgy. He wanted a woman for him. This young woman, Marissa, was living, eating, sleeping, working, breathing, under his roof. He had become used to seeing her every day. His grandmother was deriving comfort and pleasure from her company. Georgy was a different child. Olly sang her praises, saying she was going to develop into a ‘great little cook.’ That was the top of the ladder for Olly and fine by him. The atmosphere at the homestead these days was one of joyous ease. He could scarcely believe it. Surely something had to go wrong!

‘Are you coming down?’

Under his brilliant gaze Marissa felt momentarily paralysed. Ever since he had come home she had been fighting down the wild bouts of excitement that flared up whenever he appeared. He was forever lurking in her mind, even when she was asleep. She couldn’t talk about her dreams, either. If they weren’t precisely erotic, they were certainly desire driven. She wasn’t a virgin. She’d had two romances she had thought serious at the time. Both young men had been kind and funny and sexy, professional young men, good catches or so her girlfriends told her. Neither had made her feel remotely like this, and just with a look!

She pulled herself together, moving down the bank, rather hoping yet fearful she would go for a slide and finish up in his arms. ‘This is such a beautiful place!’ she said in a hushed voice.

‘I knew you’d like it.’ He spoke casually when he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss that lovely soft mouth again and again. Was it his imagination or was she faintly trembling? It was hard to tell unless he touched her. Touched that flawless white skin that glowed. She was dressed simply in a ribbed tank top the same colour as her eyes and a pair of cream shorts that could never be called skimpy but nevertheless managed to draw attention to her beautiful slender legs. He never knew snowy flesh could look so good. He was used to women with tans. Even Tara who had spent a fortune on skin products had sported a golden tan.

‘What did you really think of Georgy’s singing?’ she now asked, transferring her gaze from him to the children romping happily around the banks picking up pretty shells Dusty was busy sniffing up for them. ‘You smiled but you didn’t say much.’

‘Here, sit down,’ he said, not making the mistake of touching her but indicating a sandy ledge. He waited until she moved around him to sit down, ankles and knees together like a proper young lady. He had caught himself making mental lists of the things about her that pleased him. It was a measure of her dazzling effect on him so far he had failed to find a single thing that didn’t.

‘On the contrary, I distinctly remember telling Georgia how talented she is,’ he pointed out, joining her on the ledge.

‘Of course you did!’ she said as though she had just remembered. ‘I just had the feeling you were sort of fending off that particular talent. You wouldn’t want her to be a performer when she grows up?’ She tilted her head towards him, feeding on the crackling energy that was flowing her way.

Holt glanced into her eyes—quite calmly he hoped—then across the lagoon to the opposite bank where a dozen or more parrots were pillaging the bright red berries of a native bush. He had tasted them himself and found them quite tangy. ‘I wouldn’t be in the least surprised if she made singing her career,’ he said. Why not add, after all her father is supposed to be a darn good pop singer and an excellent musician?

‘That’s all right then,’ she said more happily. ‘I thought you might have a different career in mind?’

‘Did you always want to be a teacher?’ he asked, shifting the questions to her.

Little yellow wild flowers their shoes had bruised were sending up a delicious citrusy scent all around them. Now it was Marissa’s turn to look away. The multicolours and the markings on the parrots were simply brilliant. ‘I actually wanted to become a child psychologist. I always wanted to work with children.’

‘Damaged little children?’

‘Well, yes,’ she said. ‘I was like a doctor in waiting. I wanted to help.’

‘And you were a damaged child. I expect that had a considerable bearing on your choosing such a profession. Why didn’t you go on with it?’

Why remain a mystery to him? ‘Something truly amazing happened—devastating at first—I found out I had a brother, a little half brother.’

‘Keep going,’ he said, giving thanks for her impulse to confide except she turned on him.

‘Why do you want to know so much?’ Those blue eyes flashed.

‘You started it.’ He didn’t suppress the urge to capture her wrist, feeling the tension in her. ‘Just relax. I’m your friend, not your enemy. As a matter of fact I’m your boss, but no one would ever know that. You’re so astoundingly challenging I can’t believe you’re the governess.’

Her voice lightly shook. ‘I deserved that. I’m sorry.’

‘Then I forgive you, for a wonder! But I’m still waiting.’

‘I don’t know that I can forgive you for not believing me,’ she retorted, with a shaky laugh. ‘You’ve regarded Riley as my big indiscretion from day one.’

He nearly put her palm to his mouth. ‘If I haven’t believed you, Marissa, it’s because you’re to blame, in part anyway.’ Slowly he released her. ‘Was what happened to you so cruel you can’t speak of it?’

She blinked her lashes rapidly, determined not to dissolve into tears. ‘My father was a brilliant man, strikingly handsome. I was so proud of him. When we were all together as a family, my mother, father and me, he always said he was the happiest man in the world. He adored us, especially my mother.’

‘Do you look like her?’ If so her mother had to be unforgettable.

She shook her head. ‘Riley and I take after our father. We have his colouring, his blue eyes. My mother was blond. After she was killed in the car crash with my father at the wheel he went to pieces. He was a man destroyed.’

‘I can understand that,’ he said, his own feelings solidifying into a powerful desire to keep her here with him on Wungalla.

Then she did something extraordinary. She put out her hand and lay a finger briefly against his cheek turning his face directly towards her.

‘Are you sure you can?’

Wasn’t she aware he was holding his emotions on the tightest possible rein? If the children hadn’t been around he would have given into his feelings and hauled her into his arms. ‘Trust me, Marissa,’ he said. ‘I really know what you mean. Why would you suggest otherwise? There’s a hell of a lot you don’t know about me.’

‘Maybe some time you’ll tell me,’ she said very quietly. ‘The reason I never let anyone in, is because I’m afraid they will judge him. He was a wonderful man. Know that. I’m certain he tried and tried, but he so loved her. He was desperately lonely for her. He lost all interest in life. The great wonder is he formed a relationship with Riley’s mother, someone half his age. Maybe she was the one who latched on to him. That wouldn’t have been totally strange. As I told you, he was a striking looking man.’

‘So that was how it was?’ He stared directly into her eyes, eyes what were windows opening onto her soul.

‘That was how it was,’ she said, letting him look his fill.

All his doubts melted away like ice under heat. ‘And Riley’s mother abandoned him? When did all this happen?’

Marissa picked up her story.

By the time she was finished, she was deeply upset.

Only iron discipline prevented him from lifting her right into his arms. Once he did that of course he would be damned near impossible to stop. ‘You’ll have to hide those tears, Marissa,’ he cautioned, the warning as much for himself as her. If he had never believed there was a Fate, he believed it now. ‘The children will be coming back soon.’

‘Yes, I know.’ She used the back of her hand to flick away fallen teardrops. ‘I understand now what Catholics feel when they go to confession.’

Only he was no priest. A hard ball of tension was knotting in his stomach. ‘Why don’t you stop Riley from calling you Ma?’

Her blue eyes fired.

God, he wanted to grasp a handful of her hair, pull her head back.

‘Because it’s not as simple as that, Holt!’ she declared. ‘It’s in the nature of every child to want a mother. Instead of being a sister I fitted into Riley’s idea of a mother figure. We’re very close.’

‘An obvious statement,’ he said harshly. ‘You’re going to call me Holt from now on?’

‘I won’t if you don’t want me to. Holt just slipped out.’ Why wouldn’t it? That was the way she thought of him.

‘No, that’s okay. Just checking,’ he said, his smile throwing her further off balance. ‘Riley is to start calling you Marissa. You have to cut this cord. You know that. If you don’t, you can’t blame people for getting the wrong idea. Would you like me to speak to him? It might carry a little more weight coming from me. Riley and I get along well together.’

She knew that to be true. Holt McMaster was fast turning into Riley’s hero figure. ‘No, I’ll tell him,’ she said. ‘Your sister-in-law.’

‘My ex sister-in-law,’ he corrected, tersely.

‘Never even gave me a hearing. I don’t understand that.’

‘Lois didn’t want to give you a hearing,’ he said. ‘Rest assured I’ll make the relationship perfectly plain. Are you ashamed of your father’s descent into alcoholism?’

A small silence fell. ‘I don’t like to say it but I must have been, if only because Aunt Allison never let up on him and his problem. The drinking wasn’t his problem. It was a symptom. I see now part of her problem was the fact Uncle Bryan was secretly in love with my mother. It was her way of getting even.’

‘On a child? How is such a thing possible?’ Yet such things happened. He should know.

‘She didn’t really want me, you know. I was sort of forced on her.’ She turned her face to him. ‘Has my telling you made any difference to the way you feel about me?’

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