The Ceo's Nanny Affair

He once thought that she wanted what he did; a home, a family, a traditional family life together, but Kari had run from the life he’d offered her. Most shocking of all, she’d also relinquished all parental rights to Shaw. When she did that he assumed that all connections to Kari and her family were permanently severed, so he couldn’t understand why Tate needed to see him.

And why he’d ever agreed to meet with her was equally confounding. But he’d heard something in her voice, a note of panic and deep, deep sorrow. Maybe something had happened to Kari, and, if so, he needed to know what. She was still Shaw’s mother, after all.

Linc heard the light rap on the door and sucked in a breath.

The first thought he had when he opened his front door to Tate Harper and raked his eyes over her was that he wanted her. Under him, on top of him, up against the nearest wall...anyway he could have her, he’d take her. That thought was immediately followed by, Oh, crap, not again.

Kari had been a stunning woman, but her beauty, as he knew—and paid for—had taken work. But the woman standing behind the stroller was effortlessly gorgeous. Her hair was a riot of blond and brown, eyes the color of his favorite whiskey under arched eyebrows and her skin, makeup-free, was flawless. This Harper’s beauty was all natural and, dammit, so much more potent. Linc, his hand on the doorknob, took a moment to draw in some much-needed air.

He scanned her face again, unable to stop drinking in her dazzling beauty. The rational part of his brain wanted him to tell Tate Harper that he had nothing to say to her, no help to offer and that he and Shaw did not need the aggravation dealing with a Harper almost always caused.

The rest of him, led by his very neglected libido—he was a super busy single dad who rarely had time to chase tail—wanted to start stripping off her clothes to unveil what he assumed was a very delectable body.

“Tate? Come on in.”

She pushed the stroller into the hall, holding the bar with a white-knuckle grip. Linc, wincing at the realization that he was allowing a whole bunch of trouble to walk through his front door, was about to rescind his invitation for her to step into his home and his life. Then he made the mistake of looking into her eyes and gauged her terror, her complete and utter dismay, and her-what-the-hell-did-I-do-to-deserve-this expression.

She’d jumped into the ring with Kari and had the crap kicked out of her, Linc realized. And, for some reason, she thought he could help her clean up the mess. And, because his first instinct was to protect, to make things right, he wanted to wipe the fear from Tate’s eyes.

God, he was such a flippin’ asshat.

Annoyed with himself, Linc turned his attention to the occupant in the stroller... Ten or eleven months old, he guessed, clean and well fed. And cute, man, she was cute. He loved kids, and this adorable little one, with those bright blue eyes looking up at him, was born charming. He recognized those lapis lazuli eyes; they were Kari’s eyes and this was Kari’s kid.

But if this was Kari’s kid, then why was Tate on his doorstep with her?

Her hands tightened around the bar of the stroller, no color left in her face. She read the question in his eyes and slowly nodded, devastation glimmering in her eyes as she confirmed his worst suspicions. “She was there, at the place we had arranged to meet. She must have seen me arrive and slipped out when I linked Ellie to her.”

Linc placed his hands on his hips and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling. He swore quietly, before returning his gaze back to Tate, who was rocking on her heels. “So, what do you want from me?”

Because I know what I want from you and that’s to unbutton that blouse, slide it off your sexy shoulders and feel your silky skin beneath my hands, your made-for-sin mouth fusing with mine. I want to know the shape of your breasts, dig my fingers into the skin of your ass...

Sex? That’s where his head went after her shocking statement. What the hell?

For God’s sake, Ballantyne, get a freakin’ grip! Why, after all the crap Kari had put him through, did he have the hots for her sister?

Linc rubbed the back of his neck. “I need coffee. Would you like a cup?”

“Only if you don’t poison it. Or spit in it.”

Linc felt his lips twitch and fought a smile. So, she had a bit of a mouth on her. Back in the world he normally lived in, the one that made sense, Linc didn’t mind sassy women. There was nothing more annoying than someone who agreed with everything he said, so desperate to please. He’d dated quite of few of them.

He didn’t like this woman, he reminded himself sternly; he didn’t have any intention of liking her, ever. They were going to have coffee, a conversation, and, hopefully, in ten minutes he’d be back at his desk and life would return to normal.

He looked down into the stroller again. “What’s her name?”

“In her letter, Kari calls her Ellie.”

“Pretty name,” Linc said, undoing the harness that kept Ellie in the stroller. He picked her up and placed her on his hip, his arm around her little butt. God, it felt weird, but almost right, to have a baby in his arms again. He’d always wanted a big family, tons of kids. But, since babies usually came with a mother and that species came with complications and drama, he was resigned to being a one-child dad. And that child was pretty damn cool...

“Follow me.” Linc led Tate through the second floor of the brownstone and hit the stairs leading to the garden level. Stepping into the large open-plan room, he walked into his, and Shaw’s, favorite area of the brownstone—the living room that flowed out from the kitchen and informal eating area. It held long, comfortable couches, a large-screen TV, books and Shaw’s toys. Massive French doors led to the enclosed garden with pots of herbs and garden furniture. The rest of The Den held priceless art and rare antiques, but this room was functional, lived-in and cozy.

Linc, still holding the baby, headed to the coffee machine and hit the button to power up the appliance. It was nearly 4:00 p.m., was it too early for something strong and alcoholic? After making coffee, Linc walked back into the sitting area and placed their mugs onto the coffee table.

Tate looked as white as a sheet, shell-shocked and more than a little panicked. She needed to calm the hell down.

“Take your coat off, sit down and breathe,” Linc instructed her, relieved when Tate nodded her agreement. In real life, she wouldn’t be so quick to acquiesce, Linc mused. It might have been her snarky comment earlier about him spitting in her coffee, but he just knew that Tate wasn’t a pushover. It added a layer of intrigue to the sexy.

He watched as she removed her coat, revealing more of that almost perfect body and her glorious blondish-brown hair. “I’ve lost my hat.”

“I think you have bigger things to worry about than a hat,” Linc stated, leaning forward to pick up his coffee cup.

Questions that had nothing to do with his ex and her baby jumped into his mind. Would her eyes deepen or lighten with passion? Was she a moaner or a screamer? Would she be...

Linc closed his eyes and forcefully shook his head, reminding himself to start using his brain.

He needed to hear her story so that he could hustle her out of the door and get back to his predictable, safe, sensible world. She was pure temptation, and being attracted to his crazy ex’s sister was a complication he most definitely did not need.

“So, start at the beginning and tell me how Kari managed to sucker you into looking after her child.”

Two

Tate sank back into the cushions of the super comfortable couch, wishing she could just close her eyes. When she woke up, this would all be a horrible dream, and she’d have a vacation to start, a career to obsess over.

She wouldn’t have a baby to think about or to care for, and she certainly would not be in Linc Ballantyne’s fabulous mansion on the Upper East Side, looking at Manhattan’s hottest and most elusive bachelor.

The photographs of him online and in print publications didn’t do this man justice. They simply told the world that he was incredibly good-looking. And by good-looking, she meant fantastically hot. It was toasty warm inside his house, but she was still shivering, partly from shock but mostly from a punch of “throw me to the floor and take me now.”

Under Linc’s button-down shirt and tie was a wide chest and, she was sure, a hard, ridged stomach. His shoulders were broad, his legs long and muscular and his short, thick dark hair was just this side of messy. And those eyes, God, his eyes. They were a deep and mysterious gray, a color somewhere between summer thunderclouds and pewter. Short, thick black lashes, a slightly crooked nose and dark, rakish eyebrows added character to his too-sexy face.

But the photographs didn’t capture the power sizzling under his skin, the intelligence radiating from those eyes, the don’t-BS-me vibe emanating from him. They certainly didn’t capture the sheer and unrelenting masculinity of the man.

The man she was fiercely, ridiculously attracted to. Of course she was, Tate sighed, because she was a Harper woman and Harper women never made life easy for themselves.

Her eyes moved from his face to the baby tucked into the crook of his elbow, and she swallowed hard. She remembered his earlier question about what she wanted from him, and, not for the first time since stepping into the brownstone, she wondered what she was doing here. She wasn’t the type to fall apart in a crisis, who needed a man to sort her life out and she’d learned, at a very early age, not to depend on anyone else to help her muddle through life. People, she’d found, and especially those who were supposed to love her, were generally unreliable.

Ellie was her responsibility, not Linc’s. So, really, there was no point in extending this very uncomfortable visit. And the zing of sexual awareness dancing along her skin, making her heart bounce around her chest, added a level of awkward to their encounter.

Tate got to her feet, walked over to him and reached for Ellie, pulling the little girl into her arms. Eleven months old and abandoned, Tate thought. How could Kari do this? Again?

“I’m sorry, Linc, we shouldn’t have come here.” Tate heard her words running together and tried to slow down. “We’ll get out of your hair now.”

Linc leaned forward and placed his muscular forearms on his thighs, his eyes penetrating. “Take a breath, Tate. Sit down, drink your coffee and let’s talk this through.”

“I should let you go back to work.”

“My day is already shot,” he admitted. “Tell me what happened.”

Tate gave him a quick rundown of her day, and when she was finished, Linc asked, “Where’s the note she left you?”

Too tired to argue, she told him where to find it and sat down with Ellie propped on her lap. Tate took her little hand in hers and thought that Ellie was amazingly docile for a child that had been dumped with a stranger.

“So, though this note is short on details it seems to imply that you now get to call the shots with regard to Ellie,” Linc said.

“Imply being the operative word,” Tate bitterly replied. “And what am I supposed to do with her? Look after her? Place her in foster care? Give her up for adoption?”

“I don’t think you have the legal right to do the last two,” Linc said, and she saw the anger burning in his eyes. “But why couldn’t she just do any of this herself? Why involve you?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t even know about Ellie until I got to the diner. I haven’t seen Kari for two years.” Tate rubbed her thumb gently over the back of Ellie’s hand. “And that meeting was tense.”

“Why?”

She started to tell him that they’d had a huge fight because Kari abandoned her son. Tate had been so incensed at her cousin’s blasé attitude toward Shaw that she’d stopped communicating with her. Tate noticed Linc’s hard eyes and knew that he wouldn’t appreciate, and didn’t need, her defending his son. Linc Ballantyne was obviously very capable at fighting his own battles.

“Family stuff.” Tate eventually pushed the short explanation out.

Linc linked his hands together and leaned back, placing his ankle on his knee and tapping the sheaf of papers balanced on his thigh. “So, what are you going to do?”

Tate forced herself to think. “Right now, I suppose I need to find us a place to stay—”

“Whoa! You’re homeless, too?”

Tate glared at him and held up her hand in an indignant gesture. “Hold on, hotshot, don’t jump to conclusions. I’m a travel presenter, out of the country for most of the year, so I live out of hotel rooms. Once a year, I get a long vacation, and I came back to New York to meet with my producers. I was planning to find a hotel for a night or two, until I decided where I wanted to spend my vacation. I might have to rethink leaving New York now, since I have Ellie with me.”

“Do you have enough cash? She needs diapers and clothes and...stuff.”

Stuff. Tate wrinkled her nose. How unhelpful.

She did have enough money. Her living and travel expenses were paid for by the production company, so her hefty salary went straight into her savings account. Kari was a flake, but she wasn’t. “Yes.”

“You don’t seem like you have much experience with babies.”

“Or any,” Tate replied self deprecatingly. “I’ll buy a book,” she added.

“God.” Linc muttered, shaking his head. “Do you know how to change a diaper at least?”

“I’m sure I can figure it out,” Tate huffed.

Linc rubbed the back of his strong neck, above the patch of tanned skin between the collar of his shirt and his hair. It was the dead of winter—why was he tan? And why did she feel the insane urge to taste his skin?

“Are you going to call Child Services and place her into foster care?”

It took Tate a moment to pull her attention back to the conversation...Ellie and what to do with her. Focus, Harper.

Tate looked at Linc and saw the wariness in his eyes and realized that this was a test, that this moment would make him form an opinion of her that wouldn’t be easy to change. Wariness and distrust would slide into contempt.

Strangely, she felt the need not to disappoint him, since she felt like Harper women had disappointed him enough already.

This wasn’t about him, she chastised herself. It was about Ellie and what was best for her, so Tate tried to imagine how she would feel watching a Child Services officer walking away with Ellie, and she shook her head. “No, I can’t do that.”

Tate saw, but ignored, the flash of relief that crossed Linc’s face.

“I’m on vacation, and I can look after Ellie as well as any foster mother could, once I figure out the basics.” She sighed. “I think I need to consult a lawyer and find out whether I can, temporarily, keep her.”

He nodded but remained silent.

“Just so you know, I intend to track Kari down and make her face the consequences of her actions. I want her to make the decision to give Ellie up for adoption, not me,” Tate added.

“That can be arranged.” Linc held her eyes, and in that instant she saw the edgy businessman, the man who made hard, complicated decisions on six continents.

“What do you mean?”

“My best friend owns a security company, but he started out as a private investigator. He tracked down Kari the last time she skipped town. I’m sure he could do it again.” Linc’s words were as hard as diamonds and twice as cold. Oh, her sister had obviously done a number on this man’s head. Dammit, Kari.

“I’ll think about hiring a PI. But right now I just need to get us settled for the night and meet with a lawyer.”

“I’ll get Amy, my assistant, to find someone who specializes in family law,” Linc said, leaning sideways to pull his ultrathin phone out of his pants pocket.

Tate started to protest but snapped her mouth closed when he issued terse instructions into the phone. God, he sure didn’t waste time and was clearly a take-charge type of guy. Would he be like that in bed? Of course he would be; he’d be all “do this” or “do that,” and any woman alive would jump to be under his command. Including her. Tate knew, instinctively, that the pleasure he’d give her would be worth any amount of bossiness...

Someone slap me, please, Tate thought. Right...well, Linc wasn’t going to take charge of her...in or out of the bedroom.

Tate waited for him to finish his conversation, intending to tell him exactly that. Okay, she might be in his house, having run to him as Kari suggested, but it wasn’t his job to fix this.

“No, I am not going to tell you why,” Linc spoke into his phone, exasperated. “Jeez, Amy, you don’t need to know everything about everybody. Concentrate on your wedding arrangements or, better yet, do some work.”

Linc snapped the phone closed and tapped it against his thigh. “I share an assistant with my brother Beck and, unfortunately, she is scary efficient, which leaves her far too much time to meddle in our lives.”

Tate nodded, thinking that his crooked smile was charming, the grudging affection she heard in his voice endearing. She should go, she really should. But it was so nice in this warm house, and looking at Linc wasn’t a hardship. Tate yawned, fighting the urge to close her eyes. Jet lag and having her life flipped on its head was not a great combination.

Tate fought her tiredness, decided that it was time to leave and was about to stand when she heard the sound of feet on the wooden stairs, the piping voice of a little boy and the measured tones of an older woman. Shaw was home, she thought. Both excited and nervous to meet her nephew, Tate shot Linc an anxious look.

“He knows who Kari is,” he told her as he stood and stretched. “I’ll explain about Ellie when I think the time is right.”

Fair enough, Tate thought.

Tate heard the loud, excited “Dad!” and turned around to see a little boy fling himself at Linc’s legs. Tate couldn’t help noticing, and appreciating, the way Linc’s biceps bulged as he scooped his son up and into his arms, easily holding the three-foot dynamo.

“Dad! You’re home! What are you doing here? We made clay dinosaurs at school. Billy made Jamie cry. I fell down and scraped my knee. But I didn’t cry or anything.”

“I am home, buddy. I needed to meet someone here. I’d love to see the dinosaur you made... Where is it? Who is Billy and why did he make Jamie cry? I’m glad your knee is okay,” Linc calmly replied, sending a quick smile to the dark-haired, older woman who walked into the room. “Hey, Mom.”

Tate’s gaze danced over Shaw’s features; he had Kari’s blond hair, the same spray of freckles she remembered her sporting in her childhood and Kari’s spectacular eyes. Give him twenty years and he would be fighting off girls with a stick.

Shaw must’ve felt her eyes on him because his head whipped around, and his mouth dropped open with surprise. He wiggled out of his father’s arms and belted across the room to stand next to her. “I’m Shaw. Who are you?”

Keep it simple, she thought, seeing Linc’s concerned frown. “My name is Tate. And this—” she lifted the little girl’s fist “—is Ellie.”

Shaw placed his hands on his hips and cocked his head. “Okay. Did you come for a playdate with Dad?”

Tate held back her laugh. Oh, God, she wished that this situation was that simple. “I needed to chat with your dad.” She stood up and held out her free hand to Linc’s mother. “Hi, I’m Tate Harper, Kari’s sister.”

Linc frowned. “I thought she was your cousin.”

“Legally, we’re sisters. My mom adopted her when we were kids,” she explained.

Tate expected Jo to give her a very frosty reception, so she was very surprised when the older woman ignored her hand to lean in for a quick hug.

“You’re the travel presenter. I love your program! And who is this?” Jo looked at Ellie and shot Tate a sympathetic gaze, and her mouth tightened. “Don’t bother answering, I see the resemblance between her and Shaw. She’s done it again?”

Tate forced herself to meet Jo’s eyes, and saw a mixture of sympathy and anger. Sympathy for her, anger toward her ex-almost-daughter-in-law.

To her dismay, her eyes started to burn with tears. “I flew in from South America this morning. I had a meeting with my bosses. A few hours later and I’m suddenly responsible for a baby!” She waved her free hand in front of her face in an attempt to regain her composure. “Sorry! I’m not a crier but I’m so mad.”

“You need a cookie,” Shaw said, looking up at her, his expression concerned.

Tate let out a tiny laugh. “I probably do.”

“I’ll have one with you,” the little boy stated, his tone confident. “Then you can feel twice as better.”

Linc shook his head, and the amusement in his gray eyes made her heart stutter. “Nice try, mister. You can have an apple, and if you want a cookie, you can have it for an after-dinner treat. That’s the rule.” Linc placed both his hands on Shaw’s shoulders. “In the meantime, you can take your schoolbag upstairs and say hello to Spike.”

Shaw nodded and bounded away.

Tate lifted her eyebrows. “Who is Spike?”

“His bearded dragon,” Jo replied, shuddering. “Ugly little thing.”

Jo reached out and took Ellie from Tate’s arms. Ellie touched Jo’s cheek with her little hand, and Jo pretended to bite it. The older woman then turned her megawatt smile onto Tate. “Now, what are we going to do about you two?”

Tate darted a look at Linc and shook her head. “No, really, this isn’t your problem. I’ll make a plan, figure something out. I’ll buy that baby book and muddle along. We’ll be fine.”

“I think you should stay here tonight,” Jo said, her tone suggesting that she not argue. “Judging by your career, I doubt you have any experience with babies—”

“Try none,” Tate interjected.

“—and I can, at the very least, help you through your first night with her.”

Oh, God, she’d love that. Tate knew she could figure it out, eventually, but being shown how to do the basics would make her life a hundred times easier. Then Tate saw Linc’s forbidding expression, and her heart sank. He didn’t want her in his house or in his life, and she couldn’t blame him. The last time a Harper female dropped into his life, she caused absolute havoc and a great deal of hurt. “That’s extremely kind of you but—”

“Where are your bags?” Jo demanded.

“Um, still at my company’s office,” Tate replied, suddenly realizing that if she wanted a change of clothes and to brush her teeth, she’d have to collect the suitcases she’d left in the care of Go!’s security. And she’d have to lug said luggage and a baby to whatever hotel she could find on short notice.

Damn.

Tate straightened her shoulders and injected steel into her spine. She’d faced down bigger challenges than this in cities a lot less sophisticated than New York. She wasn’t powerless and she wasn’t broke; she’d just have to get organized. “Thank you but no. I’ll be fine.” She forced herself to meet Linc’s stormy gray eyes. “I’m so sorry to have called you. I suppose I panicked.”

As Tate went to take Ellie, Jo turned her shoulder away and shook her head. “You’re not going anywhere, young lady. You are my grandson’s aunt, and I insist that you spend the night. It’s not as though we don’t have the room.”

“Mom—”

Tate heard the warning in Linc’s voice even if Jo didn’t.

Jo narrowed her eyes at her son. “Linc, arrange for the Ballantyne driver to collect Tate’s luggage and have it delivered here. One of those many interns you have hanging around at work can purchase some baby supplies. I’ll make a list, and it can be delivered with the luggage.”

Linc pulled his hands out of his pockets and lifted his hands in resignation. He looked at Tate and shrugged. “My mother has made up her mind.”

But you’re not happy about it, Tate thought. She looked at Jo, thinking that she’d try another argument, but Jo’s expression was resolute.

“Just for tonight,” she capitulated. “Thank you and I do appreciate your hospitality.”