Spellbound By The Single Dad

She tilted her head to the side and regarded him. “So really you’re a farmer.”

“No, I’m a scientist,” he said in a tone that made it clear there was no doubt on this subject. “Though my parents were vegetable farmers before they moved here and started this business, and they always saw themselves as farmers.”

She looked him over. His pants were neat and pressed, albeit with dirt smudges on the thighs. And his shirt was buttoned almost to the top, though there was no tie. There was definitely an aspect of “scientist in the field” about him. Which made her wonder about how he ended up here.

She switched Meg to her other hip to accommodate her daughter leaning toward Bonnie. “Did you always want to join the family business?”

“When we were young, we didn’t have a choice. The business put food on the table, so we all helped. Dylan was a charmer even back then, and Adam always had an eye for a profit, so they usually manned the flower stall with Mom on weekends, and I helped Dad in the garden—digging, planting, grafting.”

She chuckled. “Sounds like your brothers got the easier end of the deal.”

“No, but I made sure they thought that.” He shaded his eyes with his free hand as he looked out over the gardens, maybe seeing them as they once were, not as they were now. “I loved those days. Dad teaching me to graft, then leaving me alone with a shed full of plants to experiment. And once he realized I could create new flowers, things no one had seen before, he gave me room to experiment even more.”

“Actually, that does sound pretty fun.” She glanced down at a nearby row of red poppies and, suddenly wanted to sink her fingers into the rich earth and do a bit of gardening herself.

Following her gaze, he crouched down to the poppies, barely jostling Bonnie. He picked a single poppy with two fingers and handed it to Meg, who squealed with glee. “And,” he said, still watching Meg, “there’s nothing quite like the satisfaction of creating something with your own hands and knowing that it will contribute to keeping your family clothed and fed.”

She could see him as a young teenager, focused on his experiments, carefully tending to the plants and recording the data in a spreadsheet. She smiled at the thought. “I’m guessing you were the serious one when you were kids.”

“Adam was pretty serious too. It was usually Dylan leading us astray,” he said, the corner of his mouth kicking up in a smile.

Having worked for Dylan for just over a year and watched him interacting with people, she could well believe that. Dylan Hawke had more than his fair share of persuasive charisma, and one day it would catch up with him.

Bonnie whimpered and flailed her arms, causing Liam to look from baby to nanny and back again. Without missing a beat, Jenna tucked Meg in the stroller and took Bonnie from her father as she asked, “So, have you worked here since you left school?”

Liam put his hands low on his hips, then dug them into his pockets, as if not sure what to do with them now. “I got a bachelor of science but kept my hand in here part-time. A double major in biology and genetics helped me with the development of new flowers.”

“I think it’s marvelous what your family has achieved here. What you’ve achieved here, Liam.” He and his family had taken their destiny in their own hands. Until she’d left Larsland, she’d been on a course mapped out for her by others, and even now, she wouldn’t trade having Meg for anything but she wasn’t on a path she would have chosen if she hadn’t gotten herself into a tangle. Liam was exactly where he wanted to be, doing exactly what he wanted to do. She admired that. “Thank you for sharing the story with me. It’s amazing.”

He shrugged. “Everyone’s story is amazing if you take the time to listen. Take you, for example. You grew up on the other side of the world and now you’re here. That’s interesting.”

Her heart skipped a beat. It was an invitation to share, and in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to tell him about her homeland, the beauty of a long summer sunset, how the winter’s snow left a blanket across ages-old stone buildings or that the majesty of the Baltic Sea skirted the edges of her former world. But she couldn’t. One slip and her whole story could come tumbling out. And then all the effort to create her new life would have been for nothing.

She leaned down and ran her hand over Meg’s blond curls, not meeting Liam’s eyes. “I really need to get Bonnie back inside for a bottle,” she said as casually as she could manage. “It’s been lovely being out here. Thank you.”

Four

Five nights later, Liam arrived home just after eight o’clock, feeling an uneasy blend of anticipation and trepidation.

He’d always been something of a workaholic, staying up till all hours with his research, occasionally forgetting meals. And now he had an even bigger reason to ensure the productivity of Hawke’s Blooms—Bonnie’s future. He’d found her a good nanny, so now the best thing he could do for his daughter was make sure she’d always be financially secure.

Though, if he were honest, this evening’s reluctance to come home early may have been more about gaining some distance from his newest employee. Four nights of sitting with Jenna while she attended to the night feedings in the intimacy of the silent, darkened house had led to four nights of lying awake, thinking of the woman a few doors down. Forbidden thoughts rising and swirling through his mind.

Of her mouth.

Her hands.

Her body.

Even though he knew she always dressed sensibly in her robe, the knowledge that she’d gotten up from her bed to attend to his daughter was proving to be alluring.

Yesterday it had become worse. The thoughts had leaked into his daytime activities, and visions of Jenna’s skin, smooth and creamy, had distracted him from slicing the root of a plant he was grafting and he’d slipped and cut this thumb. An amateur mistake, and he’d been disgusted with himself.

He’d already been taking earlier breakfasts and ducking out of the house before Jenna woke each morning on the out of sight, out of mind theory. Today he’d taken it a step further; when he’d seen her strolling through the rows of blooms with the babies, he hadn’t gone out to say hello, undermining their fledgling routine. But it wasn’t just about him trying to regain control of his thoughts. This was also about Jenna.

He refused to jeopardize their arrangement by letting her know where his mind had strayed. If she guessed, she’d be uncomfortable living in his house, and he wouldn’t risk her leaving for a less complicated job. Bonnie was his priority.

Not to mention that he was still a little uneasy about how quickly she’d left the other day as soon as he’d mentioned her background. If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d used the excuse of Bonnie needing a feeding to avoid talking about her life. It sat uncomfortably in his gut that the woman taking care of his daughter might be hiding something, but he’d tried to dismiss it. There was probably a reasonable explanation. Though, to prove it to himself, he’d make sure he asked her about her childhood again.

Fifteen minutes ago, he’d called to tell Katherine he was on his way up to the house, and she’d said Bonnie was sleeping and dinner would be on the table when he got there. He dropped his briefcase in the living room and headed down the hall. With each step, he braced himself for the sight of Jenna.

So what if he was attracted to her? It was a simple case of mind over matter. His mind was infinitely stronger than anything his body felt.

Three steps from the dining room and he was a rock—wind and rain might pound at his surface, but nothing affected him. Two steps—solid stone, unwavering for anyone or anything. One step—he was impervious. He reached the door and walked through with a straight spine and head held high. Jenna stood gently rocking an old-fashioned white cradle that was set up near the dining table. The soft lighting made her eyes look enormous and her skin glow.

She’s just a woman.

A woman of serene beauty, sure. But a woman just the same.

He paused to ensure his breathing was regular, his heartbeat even. He was a rock. Unyielding to outside influences.

He paused by the cradle. Bonnie’s long lashes rested on her cheeks and he allowed himself a moment of tenderness as he watched her little chest rise and fall, her mouth move. Then he pulled himself back together and pasted on a polite smile for his employee.

“Good evening, Jenna.” He pulled a chair out for her and waited.

“Hello, Liam.” She took the seat and he pushed it in, careful not to touch her, as she sat down.

See? Easy. Now that he was over his initial reactions, he’d be fine. As the old saying went, familiarity breeds contempt, and though he didn’t want or expect to hold Jenna in contempt, he did expect familiarity would breed indifference to her allure. It was practically scientific.

Several silver dishes with domed covers sat on the table. He lifted the cover off the first, revealing a fragrant curry. He passed the serving spoon to Jenna so she could put some on her plate.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, scooping rice from a second dish. “I hope it didn’t put you out.”

She didn’t look up as she filled her plate with the food. “Not at all. It gave me a chance to talk to Katherine.”

“How’s that going?” Ideally, the two members of his household staff would have a good working relationship, but knowing his housekeeper and her preference for working alone, he was aware that was unlikely.

“I don’t think Katherine approves of me eating with you.” Her voice, normally lyrical with her Nordic accent, was somber, more careful. “I’m pretty sure she’d like to serve me in the kitchen.”

“She’s always been a stickler for propriety,” he said in an attempt to soothe the waters.

“I’m more than happy to—”

“No. You’re welcome at this table. I used to eat while reading journals or research papers, but now that I have Bonnie, it’s time I started some new routines, like family dinner time. I want the tradition to be in place by the time Bonnie notices it. I told Katherine she’s welcome, too, but she said she’d rather eat in her room.”

Jenna ate another mouthful of curry before continuing. “Katherine will probably tell you herself, but she’s hired a part-time maid to do the babies’ washing and give her some support now she has a busier house.”

“Good,” he said and nodded. “I didn’t want any of that falling to you when you’re exhausted from keeping up with night feedings and looking after both girls.”

Jenna settled her unflinching blue gaze on him. “You must be exhausted too. You’ve been getting up during the night and still going to work every day.”

“Coffee has become my friend.” She was right, but he wouldn’t change a thing—Bonnie was worth it. He glanced over at the cradle, wishing his daughter was awake so he could hold her. Yet, even if she were awake, she’d prefer Jenna to him. His stomach hollowed and he turned back to his plate. “How was Bonnie this evening?”

“She cried a bit and didn’t want to settle. I brought the cradle in here and had her with me while I made out the grocery order for Katherine, and she was happier with that until she drifted off.” Jenna took the dish of spicy lentils that he passed and spooned some onto her plate. “Will you have any time free tomorrow? I’d like to start working on your bonding with Bonnie as soon as possible.”

“Tomorrow will be difficult. What about tonight?” Creating a relationship with his daughter was a priority, but he also had to be careful about his work now that he was providing for a daughter. It was not the time to let things slip.

“That could work.” She checked her watch. “She’ll probably be awake for another feeding in less than an hour. We can do something then.”

“Sounds good.”

She spooned some more curry onto her plate. “Have you heard anything from Bonnie’s mother’s family? Are they still planning on filing for custody?”

“They’ve already taken the preliminary steps.” In fact, they were becoming a royal pain in his butt. “My lawyer is on it and he doesn’t think they stand a chance.”

She nodded and looked back down at her plate. He took a mouthful of dhal and they ate for several minutes in silence. He and Jenna didn’t know each other well, and conversation was hard to create. He wasn’t good at small talk. Dylan was always telling him he needed to improve his ability to chat when they attended business functions or charity events. He drew in a breath. Now was as good a time as any. Plus, he could quiz Jenna about her background again.

“You asked me a few days ago what I wanted to be when I grew up, and I’ve been wondering the same about you.” He picked up his water glass, took a sip and then watched her over the rim.

She bit down on her lip and looked at her plate for a long moment before replying. “Liam, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not talk about my childhood.”

He sat back in his chair and swirled the water in his glass. Interesting. Perhaps she had a difficult time growing up and preferred not to think about it. Or perhaps she was keeping a secret. He couldn’t force her to answer questions, but he would wait for the right moment to push further.

If she was hiding something, he’d find out what it was.

* * *

No one had ever asked her what she’d wanted to be—not as an adult or as a child. She was a princess. A princess with four older siblings would never be queen, but she was still expected to dedicate her life to her people. Her three brothers had served in the military, but that was about as far as the children of the monarch could move away from their royal duties.

Mewling from the cradle let them know Bonnie was waking. Jenna jumped up, eager for the distraction. “You keep her entertained, and I’ll make her bottle.”

She saw his quick doubtful glance at the cradle and suppressed a smile. He’d held Bonnie often but usually when she was fed and happy. And quiet.

When Jenna came back into the room with a warm bottle, Liam was sitting at the table, looking bemused as he held a screaming Bonnie. When he spotted her, the relief on his face was almost comical. “Thank goodness. She’s been telling me that she’s pretty desperate.”

“At full volume.” Jenna chuckled, took Bonnie from him and sat back in her own chair. “It’s all right, little one. I have your bottle right here.”

As she fed the baby, Liam finished his dinner, though she felt his steady gaze on her the whole time.

“Want me to take her so you can finish your meal?” he said when Bonnie was done.

“That would be great, thanks.” She handed him the now happy baby. As Jenna resumed eating, she sneaked glances at man and daughter. The soft, loving expression on his face when he looked down at his baby turned her heart to putty.

In her world, men didn’t have much to do with babies—there were nannies for that. Liam’s murmured words, his stroking of her tiny cheeks, affected Jenna more than she would have guessed and made her grieve the loss of a father for Meg all over again. Her own little girl was missing out on this.

It also made her miss her own father and mother. It had been more than a year since she’d seen them, since she’d heard their voices. This job with Liam would need to be her last in the States—soon, she’d have to work out a plan to return home. It still seemed impossible, but she had to believe that when the time came, she’d find the right way.

When she’d finished her meal, Liam returned Bonnie to the cradle so they could clear the plates, then stood with his hands resting on his hips. “So what’s your plan for me with Bonnie tonight?”

She’d been mulling over that very question in her mind all day. Where to start was important. “I was thinking we could try you and Bonnie with her baby carrier.”

“Baby carrier?” He rubbed a hand across his raspy chin. “I thought you’d have us doing something more...”

“Hands-on?” She reached for the gray and white carrier she’d slipped behind the cradle to have it accessible.

He shrugged a shoulder. “Yes, actually.”

“If we fit the carrier straps to your size and you’re comfortable in it, it will give you a certain amount of independence with her. You’ll be able to duck in and pick her up during the day if you want, and you’ll have your hands free. The easier that becomes, the more time you’ll be able to spend with her.”

“And the more time I spend with her, the stronger our bond. Got it. Hear that, Bonnie?” The baby was lying back in her cradle, her little arms flailing as she watched them. “This is the first step to our new bond.”

Jenna gave the cotton and mesh a shake. “If you’re ready, the first thing we need to adjust the carrier straps to fit you.”

He looked dubiously at the contraption in her hand. “Is it the right size?”

“They come in one size and we adjust it.” She lengthened the strap, then reached up to loop it over his head but hesitated. She’d done this countless times on herself, but pulling it over Liam’s thick mahogany hair seemed an act of intimacy that was beyond the boundaries of their relationship.

“Er, you might be a bit tall for me to reach....” It was an obvious lie. He was taller, yes, but if he ducked his head there was no reason she couldn’t manage the task. She held the carrier out to him, and Liam seemed to take her assessment at face value.

He took the carrier and slipped it over his head and threaded his arms through, then held the pouch section out in front of him. “This will hold her?”

“She’ll be well supported.” The carrier needed to be a little tighter so that Liam could hold Bonnie more firmly against his chest, but the threaded buckle was at the back, so it would be awkward for him to do it himself. Perhaps Jenna should have asked Katherine to help with this part. “If you turn around, I’ll adjust it.”

Suddenly she was presented with the expanse of pale blue shirt fabric pulled firmly across his broad shoulders. A prickle of heat raced across her skin. She wanted to allow her hands to roam, to trace the shape of him under the material, to luxuriate in the warm solidness of him.

He didn’t move—patiently waiting for her to help him with something for his daughter. Which was enough to snap Jenna out of the mood that had descended. Quickly, she tightened the straps to fit firmly around him, ignoring the exquisite torture of her fingers brushing against him.

“Okay, I think that’s about right,” she said brightly. “I’ll pop Bonnie in, and check the fitting again then.”

As he turned back around, Jenna picked Bonnie up, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and slid her into the pouch strapped to her father’s chest. Bonnie’s neck arched against the head support and she locked her gaze on her father’s face.

“I think she likes it already,” Jenna said.

Liam put a hand up behind Bonnie’s head, as he examined as much of the carrier as he could see, as if making an assessment about its construction and the safety of his daughter. “I thought I’d seen babies facing the other way.”

“As she gets a bit older, we can adjust it and have her facing forward. Older babies like to see the world, but right now she’d rather be snug against you.”

Liam whispered something to Bonnie, and Jenna saw his Adam’s apple move slowly up and down. Tears of tender emotion pressed at the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away and busied herself reading the instruction leaflet that came with the carrier, despite having read it several times already, and allowed father and daughter to have their moment.

“Did you wear one of these much with Meg?” he finally asked, glancing up.

Jenna smiled as she circled him, testing the straps and the fit. “She practically lived in one. After work, I was busy trying to get our washing and cooking done. But I hadn’t seen her all day, so I didn’t want to be apart from her either.”

He nodded in understanding. “And with the carrier, you could do both things at once.”

“In theory,” she said wryly. “Often I’d get distracted by Meg and end up with no washing or cooking done and I’d eat a banana for dinner.”

She felt the low rumble of his laugh as it vibrated through his chest and quickly dropped her hands. “I think she’s safe and snug in there,” she said, stepping back. “How does it feel?”

He leaned a fraction to one side, then the other and swiveled at the waist, as if testing the carrier’s scope. “It’s surprisingly comfortable. I mean, I know she’s there and my center of gravity is different, but I’d expected it to feel more cumbersome.”

“That’s great. Why don’t you take a walk through the house? See if it feels secure while you move around.”

He wandered off, ambling from room to room, leaving her watching him. But she felt more like a voyeur than someone supervising the process. His body moved with such masculine grace, and the carrier straps emphasized the set of his shoulders.

Her heart clenched tight. Why was she having such inappropriate thoughts about her boss? And, maybe more important, why was she so ineffective at controlling them?

She sank into the dining chair and covered her face with her hands, forced to acknowledge that she was quite possibly in over her head.

* * *

Two days later, Liam met Jenna and the babies at the door to his research facility. On a whim—one he was still struggling to understand—he’d sent a note to the house inviting them down to see where he worked.

“Hi, Liam,” Jenna said brightly. “Thanks for the invitation.” She’d worn a summer dress and an orange wide-brimmed hat, and for a moment he felt a pang at not being able to see her silky blond hair.

“Hi,” he said, looking at the double stroller. “It might be better if we carry them. And you won’t need your hat in here either.” He slipped off his white lab coat, threw it over one arm and scooped Meg up in the other. Meg was the heavier of the babies, so he’d instinctively reached for her to save Jenna’s arms, but he’d surprised himself lately by liking Meg in his arms almost as much as Bonnie. She had such a sweet personality even at this young age.

Jenna picked Bonnie up and followed him through the doors.

“I’m glad you could make it,” he said as they walked down a corridor.

“We wouldn’t have missed a personal tour for anything, would we, girls?” Meg gurgled in his arms at her mother’s voice.

Beyond family and his research staff, he’d never allowed anyone into his rooms. Corporate espionage was always a concern—if there was a flower he’d developed and was about to patent, a competitor would love the opportunity to see it and try to trump him.

But there was a personal element too.

Since the day his father had given him a plot of land and free rein to breed his own flowers when he was fifteen, he’d always grown his plants with a fair amount of privacy. He had staff to help now, to carry out tasks such as replicating his experiments to ensure the plants would throw the same flower every time and that the cultivars were healthy. But, in his own lab on a day-to-day basis, he still worked alone. It was a more personal space to him than his home.

So why he’d invited Jenna Peters into his inner sanctum was anyone’s guess. He inwardly winced. He could rationalize it and say he was letting his daughter visit him at work—something he hoped she would continue to do as she got older—and she needed her nanny to bring her, but he knew that wasn’t the truth.

There was something about Jenna that he trusted. Sure she’d been reluctant to talk about her childhood when asked, but he’d decided it must be painful for her. She simply wasn’t the type of person to hide anything from him.

As they walked down the sterile white corridor past rooms filled with activity, a few of his staff rushed over to coo over the two babies, but even those who didn’t watched his progress. Having non-research or admin staff in the building was enough of a surprise to raise eyebrows, but his personal assistant had told him that his instant fatherhood had been a hot topic of gossip among the staff, so he was sure the rumor mill had filled everyone in on whose baby was in the nanny’s arms. He found he didn’t mind the extra attention as much as he usually did.