The Nanny's Secret

Wyatt seated her and used a padded glove to lift the foil-wrapped pan out of the oven. There was a fresh salad on the table, along with a baguette, a bottle of vintage claret and two glasses.

“I’ll pour and you dish.” He handed her a spatula. “It might be overcooked.”

“My fault for being late. Sorry.” Leigh scooped two squares of lasagna onto the plates. It didn’t look overcooked, and it smelled heavenly.

“Eat hearty. We’ve got plenty work ahead of us, getting that nursery set up.”

“You said we. Does that mean you’re planning to help?”

“With the heavy lifting, at least. But you’ll be the one organizing things. I hope you plan to change into something more comfortable.”

“Of course.” Leigh’s face warmed as his cobalt eyes lingered on her. The silk blouse she’d worn with the suit had always been a little snug. She’d forgotten that problem when she’d taken off her jacket. She scrambled to change the subject. “I still find it hard to believe you don’t have help in this big house—in addition to me, of course.”

“You mean like a butler and a chauffeur and a cook?” His eyes twinkled, an unexpected surprise. “You’ve been watching too many episodes of Masterpiece Theatre. A gaggle of servants hanging around would drive me crazy. I can load the dishwasher, answer my own doorbell and drive my own car. And I have a cleaning crew up from the lodge every Wednesday to keep the place looking shipshape. Believe me, I like my peace and quiet.”

She took a sip of wine and speared a sliced mushroom from her salad. It would be a waste of words, reminding him now, but Wyatt’s precious peace and quiet was about to be shattered.

* * *

Leigh’s room was on the second floor. Like the rest of the house, its decor was rustic and masculine with an eye to comfort. The queen-sized bed featured a decadent European-style featherbed and duvet. A hand-woven Tibetan rug covered much of the hardwood floor. Wooden shutters masked the tall windows.

One wall was decorated with framed black-and-white photos of the Himalayas. Among them was an image of a grinning, bearded Wyatt between two Sherpa porters. As Leigh stripped off her blouse, skirt and pantyhose, it was as if his mocking eyes watched her every move.

She would have to do something about that picture.

A side door opened into the nursery, which was piled with bags and boxes from Baby Mart. Zipping her jeans and tugging her sweatshirt over her head, she prepared to do battle with the mess. It was going to be a long night. And her tortured feet would feel every step she took.

Wyatt had just unpacked a solid oak rocker and was situating a cushion on the seat. He glanced up as she padded barefoot into the nursery.

“That’s more like it,” he said, taking in her outfit. “But where are your shoes?”

Leigh wiggled her swollen toes. “Too many hours in stilettos. I’m so footsore I can’t even wear my sneakers.”

“That’s no good.” He rose, gesturing toward the chair. “Maybe I can help. Sit down.”

She hesitated. “We really need to get started here.”

“Sit. That’s an order.”

Leigh sank onto the padded seat. Being bossed rankled her, but she was on his clock, and if he could do something for her feet, who was she to argue?

Dropping to a crouch, he cradled her left foot between his hands. “Trust me. I’ve dealt with enough sports injuries to pick up a few tricks.”

His strong hands began kneading her foot, fingers pressing the arch as his thumbs massaged the bones and tendons between her toes. Leigh could feel herself relaxing as the pain eased. Delicious sensations trickled up her leg. She closed her eyes. A moan escaped her lips.

He chuckled. “Feels good, does it?”

“Mmm-hmm. You could do this for a living.” Her mind began to wander forbidden paths, imagining how those skilled hands would feel in other places. She hadn’t been in a physical relationship since breaking her engagement, eleven months ago. Now she felt her body awakening to Wyatt’s masculine touch. And she couldn’t help remembering that they were alone here, with a bed in the next room....

But what was she thinking? Sleeping with Wyatt was a crazy idea. Any intimacy between them would just make it that much harder for her to hold on to her secrets.

With a mental slap, Leigh shocked herself back to reality. When she opened her eyes, Wyatt was looking up at her as if he’d detected something in her face. Her cheeks warmed. Had he guessed what she’d been thinking?

“How’s your room?” He broke the awkward silence. “Will it be all right?”

“It’s lovely—although I may not be able to roll myself out of that bed in the morning.”

“Chloe chose that room for you. She wanted you next to the nursery, where you could hear the baby at night.”

“And where will Chloe be?”

“Her room’s downstairs. She says she doesn’t want his crying to wake her up.”

So, what’s wrong with this picture? Leigh bit back an acerbic comment. She’d known she was getting into a prickly situation. That was why she’d taken the job in the first place. But this was no time to climb on her soapbox—especially since the issue would need to be addressed with Chloe, not the girl’s father.

“I can guess what you’re thinking.” He switched to her other foot, skilled fingers kneading away the soreness. “But for now I want you to cut the girl some slack—give her time to get back on her feet, physically and emotionally. When her mother had to choose between her husband and her pregnant daughter, Chloe found herself on her way to the airport with her bags. As if she hadn’t been through enough already, dealing with the pregnancy on her own.” Wyatt’s fingers pressed harder against Leigh’s arch, almost hurting. “So help me, if I ever find the irresponsible jerk who took advantage of a young girl’s trust and then just walked away....”

“I think we’d better get to work.” Leigh pulled free and scrambled to her feet, uncertain she could trust herself not to rise to her brother’s defense if Wyatt continued in that vein. It wasn’t as if Kevin hadn’t offered to stand by Chloe. As for what had happened—Kevin had told her it had been after a party, with both of them more than a little drunk. No trust—or even love—involved. No one taking advantage. Just two reckless kids being stupid.

But the result of their thoughtless act was the little miracle she’d held for the first time today.

Not that she could explain any of that to Wyatt. Not now, and probably not ever.

Reaching for a box of linens, she began unwrapping crib pads, sheets and towels. “These will all need to be washed and dried before we use them,” she said. “There’s baby soap here somewhere. If you’ll point me toward the laundry room, I’ll get started.”

“It’s just off the kitchen—you’ll see it when you go downstairs. Meanwhile, I’ll unpack more of these boxes and recycle the cardboard. You can put everything away when you get back here.”

“Thanks.” Leigh found the pink soap box, bundled up the linens and headed for the stairs. She needed a break from Wyatt’s overpowering presence, and the laundry gave her an excuse. His drive had won Olympic glory and built one of the finest ski resorts in the state. But up close and personal, his magnetism could be an emotional drain. Her physical attraction to him only complicated things.

It would be easier after tomorrow, with the baby here. She’d have something to focus on, something to love—no, not to love. She was here to give Kevin’s son a good start in life. Sooner or later she would have to let go and walk away. If she allowed herself to fall in love with little Mikey, the final break would rip her heart out.

* * *

Wyatt stood alone on the second floor balcony. He’d expected to be worn out after helping Leigh set up the nursery. But they’d finished a couple of hours ago, and he was still too restless to sleep.

Leigh had been a whirlwind of efficiency—all business. There’d been no more sign of the chemistry that had flared between them when he’d rubbed her feet. But he hadn’t forgotten it. He’d always maintained that the sexiest thing about a woman was her face. The sight of Leigh’s face, her eyes closed, her lips parted in a blissful moan, had jolted his imagination into overdrive. He’d pictured that lovely dark-framed face on a pillow, her entranced expression deepening as he pleasured her....

Wyatt took a moment to enjoy the memory, then closed the door on it. For now, at least, a foot massage was as intimate as he planned to get with Miss Leigh Foster. Bed partners were a dime a dozen. But he’d already learned that a suitable nanny was worth more than gold.

A sliver of moon had risen above the canyon. Far below, beyond the trees, the lights of the resort spread like a jeweled carpet. The summer concert season was over, but the autumn color drew hikers to the slopes and sightseers flocking to the hotels, shops and restaurants. And the cold season was coming soon. Already his crews were inspecting every inch of the runs and lifts, getting ready for the first big snowstorm.

A light breeze, smelling of winter, cooled his face. He always savored this time of year and the changes it brought. But the changes happening now were like nothing in his experience.

Leigh was right. Chloe was going to need him. But how could he even begin to nurture her, discipline her and give her the support she needed? From his own father, Wyatt had inherited a legacy of neglect and abuse. What if the traits that made a good parent were simply missing in him? It was that fear that had made him keep his distance when she was a baby, herself. He’d missed the chance to get to know her, to build the kind of relationship that would help him understand how to be there for her. Could he trust himself to build that relationship now? Where did he even begin?

As for the baby... He couldn’t begin to wrap his brain around that reality. Not tonight. But if he wasn’t sure how to be a father after all these years, then he couldn’t believe that Chloe was prepared to be a mother when she was barely more than a child herself. Having a child could destroy her future. Since she’d arrived, he’d tried over and over again to help her realize that the best thing for all of them would be to give the little boy up to a good family. The message hadn’t gotten through, but perhaps things would change now that the baby was here. Once she realized that having a baby wasn’t like having a new doll, the girl might come to her senses.

Meanwhile, there was Leigh. He was depending on her to maintain a level of sanity he could live with. So far, she’d proved as efficient, hardworking and practical as she was pretty. He could only hope she had the skill to care for the baby and the patience to deal with the red-haired hellion that was Chloe at her worst.

The weariness he’d been holding back too long crashed in on him. Time he got some rest. It was late, and tomorrow he’d be bringing Chloe and the baby home from the hospital. The day was bound to be trying.

Stepping back inside, he headed toward the stairs. That was when he glanced down the dark hallway and noticed the sliver of light under the closed door of Leigh’s bedroom. Discretion told him to ignore it. But it was one-thirty in the morning. What if something was wrong? What if she was sick or in some kind of trouble?

Outside the door he paused to listen. Hearing nothing, he rapped lightly on the rough-hewn wood. When there was no answer, he pressed the latch and inched the door open.

Lamplight glowed on Leigh in bed, propped against two oversized pillows. She was dead asleep, her eyes closed, her head drooping to one side. The thin strap of her silky black nightgown had slipped off one shoulder to reveal the upper curve of a satiny breast.

Had she been waiting up for him? But that notion wasn’t worth the time it took to kick it to the curb. Nothing in tonight’s behavior could’ve been read as an invitation.

So why hadn’t she just turned off the light and rolled over? In the next instant he found the answer. On the duvet, where it could have fallen from her hand, lay a thick paperback book. Drawing closer, Wyatt could make out the title—Baby Care for the New Mother.

Leigh had fallen asleep cramming for her job.

So her claim to be experienced in childcare was something of a stretch. A smile teased the corners of Wyatt’s mouth. He wasn’t ready to fire Leigh. But he wanted to let her know, in a subtle way, that he was wise to her little fib.

Tired as she was, she’d probably sleep until morning. If she woke to find the book on the nightstand and the lamp switched off that should be enough to give her a clue.

Leaving his shoes in the hallway, he stole across the carpet to the bed. Close up, her lush beauty was even more tempting—ripe lips softly parted, lashes like velvet fringe against her satiny cheeks, and a fragrance that stirred his senses like a seductive night breeze.

As he leaned over her to pick up the book, she shifted against the pillow. The black ribbon strap slipped lower on her shoulder, giving him a glimpse of one rosebud nipple peeking above the lace trimming the neckline.

His sex rose like a flagpole, straining against his jeans. Wyatt cursed silently as his fingers closed around the open book. They were alone in the house. If Leigh opened her eyes, what would he do? Would he mumble an excuse and leave like a gentleman, or would he be true to his manly nature?

Silly question. But never mind. Leigh had shown him her proper side. Nothing she’d said or done had indicated that she’d take kindly to being awakened with a man bending over her bed.

Giving in to his better judgment, Wyatt laid the book on the nightstand, switched off the lamp and, with a last regretful glance, left the room.

Four

Leigh opened one eye, found the bedside clock and groaned. Seven-thirty. Of all mornings to oversleep, she had to pick this one.

When she swung her legs off the bed, she noticed something on the nightstand. The baby book. How many chapters had she gotten through before she fell asleep? And how many of those pages could she actually remember? She could only hope she’d have time for a refresher while Wyatt was picking up Chloe and the baby.

She was walking away from the bed when it struck her—she had no memory of closing the book and laying it on the nightstand. And she certainly hadn’t switched off the bedside lamp before dropping off. Somebody had looked in on her in the night. And that somebody was wise to her lack of experience.

She stifled a groan. Not a great way to start a new job.

The aroma of fresh coffee wafted under the door and into her nostrils. Her shower would have to wait. Right now she needed to get herself downstairs and convince Wyatt she had everything under control.

Yanking on her jeans and a black turtleneck, she splashed her face, brushed her teeth and ran a hasty comb through her hair. For now, that would have to do.

Still barefoot, she followed her nose, padding down the stairs and into the kitchen. Wyatt sat sipping coffee at the table, dressed in jeans and a dark blue cashmere sweater that matched his eyes. Those eyes took her measure, from her bare toes to her still-tousled locks. “Coffee’s on the counter,” he said pleasantly. “I put out a mug for you. How did you sleep?”

“Too well. That featherbed is decadent.”

“And your feet? You’re going to need your shoes today.”

“They’ll be fine.” Leigh inhaled the fragrant steam as she poured the coffee. “Cream?”

“In the fridge. If there’s anything you’d like for the kitchen, you can order it through the lodge by phone or email. The number and email address are on the contact list by the phone. It’ll usually be delivered by the end of the day.”

“Thanks. I’ll make a list after I find out what Chloe would like. How soon will you be picking her and the baby up?”

“They should be ready any time after ten. But I changed my mind about going. I’m sending you instead.”

“Me?” A reflexive grab barely saved Leigh’s mug from crashing to the floor.

“Since I’ve already paid the hospital there’s no reason for me to be there. And I’ve got an important phone conference scheduled for ten o’clock.” He pulled a chair out from the table. “Sit down, Leigh. We need to talk.”

She sat, perching on the edge of the chair like a child about to be punished. What now?

He turned his seat to face her. “When I hire someone I usually give them a written job description. I’ve never hired a nanny before, but we both need to know what’s expected.”

Leigh nodded, holding her tongue. Better to keep still than to speak and make a fool of herself.

“You’ve made it clear that your first priority will be the baby. That’s fine. But you need to be aware of my other concerns.”

“Of course.” She willed herself to meet his gaze. His eyes were the color of a deep mountain lake—and at this moment, just as cold, she thought.

“One concern, a big one, is my family’s privacy. Chloe’s friends know about the baby, of course. So does the hospital staff. All of them have been warned to keep the matter under wraps. I won’t have my daughter falling prey to gossip, especially if the press gets involved. And I won’t have her future reputation tainted by one careless mistake.”

How could anyone look at that beautiful boy and call him a mistake? Keeping that thought to herself, Leigh nodded her understanding.

“Is that why you want me to drive her home—so she and the baby won’t be seen with you and recognized?”

“In part.” He rose to put his empty cup in the sink. “That will be one of your prime responsibilities—keeping a lid on things. For now, at least, Chloe’s not to take the baby out in public—for safety reasons as well as privacy. You’re to track her online activity, Twitter, Facebook, anything that could be seen by the wrong people—”

“No.”

He stared in surprise as she rose. “No?”

“I’m a nanny, not a spy. I understand your wanting to protect her, Wyatt, but the one who monitors her computer and phone should be her father.”

His scowl darkened. She plunged ahead before he could interrupt.

“Think about it. I’m here in a nurturing role, to care for the baby and help Chloe learn to be a mother. She needs to trust me. If that’s to happen I can’t wear two hats. I can’t support her and police her at the same time.”

“So you’re saying I should be the bad guy.”

“If that’s what you want. You must have surveillance people at the resort. You’ll find a way.”

He took his time rinsing his mug and stowing it in the dishwasher. “All right, you win—for now. But there’s one more thing.”

“I’m listening.” Leigh remained on her feet, as did he.

“Chloe’s young and she’s bright. If she could put this incident behind her, she could still have a promising future.”

Incident? A baby?

“If she sticks with her choice to raise the boy, I’ll respect her decision,” he continued. “But you and I both know it will change her life, and not for the better. What I’m hoping is that soon she’ll be sensible and give him up for adoption—to a good family, of course. I trust you’ll do your best to steer her in that direction. In the long run it would be better for her and for the baby. Don’t you agree?”

Leigh stood rooted to the floor as his words sank in. Sensible? Yes. But oh, so cold. She found her voice.

“You’re Chloe’s father, and I can see where you’re coming from. I’ll give the matter some thought.”

“Then let me give you something else to think about. I’m sure you’re aware that if Chloe gives up the baby it will mean the end of your job here. In the spirit of fairness, if that becomes her decision and you support her in it, I’m willing to offer you a severance package of twenty-five thousand dollars. I’ll have it written into your contract.”

Leigh willed herself to appear calm. Inside, she was reeling—not so much because of the amount, but because of his icy determination, and his assumption that her help could be bought.

“That’s a generous offer,” she replied. “I’ll keep it in mind. But right now it’s getting late. If I’m to be at the hospital by ten, I need to get ready....”

With her voice threatening to break, she turned and headed out of the kitchen.

“Leigh, one more thing.”

She froze but didn’t turn around.

“I just thought you should know. You have your shirt on inside out.”

Stifling a groan, she fled up the stairs.

* * *

Wyatt stood on the balcony, watching the black sport wagon disappear behind the trees. He’d had the vehicle brought up from the resort for Leigh’s temporary use. The Hummer would be hard for Chloe to climb into, and the girl would turn up her pretty nose at that rust bucket Leigh had driven here.

Later today he’d contact his supplier for a sturdy wagon with all-wheel drive. Chloe would be pestering him for a sports car but she wasn’t getting it before spring, and only then if she showed some responsibility. For now, she and Leigh could share the new vehicle.

Wyatt could afford as many luxury cars as he wanted; but the mountain property didn’t have enough level ground to waste on a big garage. The one at the rear of his house had room for just three vehicles—the Hummer, the new SUV he planned to buy and the Bentley that was his one indulgence, a vintage 1976 Corniche that he’d restored himself after his divorce. He’d be getting it back from the mechanic later today with new brakes. He also owned a couple of snowmobiles, which he kept in a shed, mostly for emergencies.

A scrub jay fluttered onto a nearby pine branch, cocked its head and regarded him with curious eyes. The bird’s presence reminded Wyatt why he’d chosen to live in this remote spot overlooking the canyon. The place was wild and clean, and he’d done his best to keep it that way with solar panels on the roof and state-of-the-art recycling technology. For the past ten years he’d enjoyed his privacy here. Now all that was about to change.

Maybe it wouldn’t be all bad. He’d enjoyed seeing Leigh come into the kitchen this morning, fresh-faced, rumpled and hastily dressed, as if she’d just tumbled out of bed. The warm, pleasant feeling had lingered like an aura—until they’d started talking.

Leigh had barely spoken while he helped secure the baby carrier in the car’s backseat; and she’d driven off without even saying goodbye. Her silence had spoken volumes about his offer and what she thought of it.

Wyatt didn’t take well to being denied. In fact, if he’d known how headstrong Leigh was, he might not have hired her in the first place.

Not just headstrong, he mused. There was something unsettling about the woman. Something that didn’t add up. She was too sophisticated, too self-assured to settle for a job like this one. So why had she taken it? Her reasons from the interview didn’t hold water. If she was as experienced with babies as she’d implied, why had she been reading that baby book in the middle of the night?

Who was she? What did she really want?

* * *

Leigh managed to hold herself together until she was sure the car couldn’t be seen from the house. Then she pulled off the road, pressed her shaking hands to her face and allowed reality to sink in.

Wyatt Richardson didn’t want his precious grandson. And he expected her to talk Chloe into giving the boy up. He’d even offered her money.

How was she supposed to deal with that?

She knew that Wyatt was thinking of Chloe’s future. As far as he was concerned, the baby was an unlucky accident to be hushed up and sent away for the good of all concerned. Her heart rebelled at the thought of it...but she forced herself to take a deep breath and think with her head.

Was he right? Would little Mikey be better off with two adoptive parents than with an unmarried teenage mother and a grandfather who only wanted him gone? Maybe. But even if Chloe decided to take the adoption route today, Leigh was certain it would still take time to find the right parents and get through the paperwork. And in the meantime, the baby was going to need someone on his side, to fight for his rights and his welfare. For now, she would be that someone. And she would do everything in her power to see that whatever choice was made would be driven by love, not by expediency.