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If that wasn’t enough, although Jack was jazzed about the new account he’d just bagged, he was worried about Lilly. He had no idea what to do with her. Quiet and withdrawn, she hadn’t even begun to warm to Ms. Brown, the nanny. She hadn’t warmed to him, either, and that knowledge stung.
As he turned toward the garage, he glanced over the grounds and did a double take. He stopped the car and stared.
In an alcove of blooming trees beside his house, his secretary and his daughter were skipping through a mud puddle. He pressed the button to lower his window, and the sound of Lilly’s laughter drifted through the air. His heart stopped. He couldn’t remember when he’d last heard that sweet, wonderful sound.
Amanda’s husky laughter joined with Lilly’s. Getting out of the car, he gazed at his assistant. The rain had slowed to barely a sprinkle, but Amanda had clearly caught the worst of it. Her wet, fine hair hung limply to her shoulders. Her business suit clung to her slim curves, and her shoes and stockings were covered with mud.
Her face bright with pleasure, she didn’t seem to give a damn that she was a complete mess. The movement of her body drew his gaze again. He noticed the subtle curves of her breasts and hips, her long shapely legs, and felt a tug of awareness. Clearly unaware of him, however, Amanda sang a chorus from “Singin’ in the Rain.” Lilly pulled at Amanda’s stockings, and they both laughed again. Amanda kicked off her shoes, and Jack watched in amazement as his painfully practical and conservative secretary briefly bared her thighs and ditched her nylons.
He felt the disconcerting tug of awareness again and swore under his breath. He’d never really thought of Amanda as a woman. He’d never really wanted to. After all, she was the best damn assistant he’d ever had and he was too driven with his goals for Fortune Corporation to want any distractions.
Sure, she had a few nice features more or less—big brown eyes and an easy smile. Her primary value to Jack, however, had always been her organizational skills and uncanny ability to anticipate his professional needs. Her professional skills would continue to be her primary value, he told himself. Suddenly conscious of the fact that he was standing in the rain staring at his secretary, he scowled, got back in his car and pulled into the garage.
Grabbing a large black umbrella, he walked toward the two mud-splattered females. The bottom half of his daughter looked as if she’d been dipped in chocolate milk. Amanda caught sight of him and pointed out his presence to Lilly.
“I think I’m late with the umbrella,” he said.
“We’re a mess, aren’t we,” Amanda said, wincing, then she shrugged and chuckled. “You may not remember this, but when you’re a kid, some days you just need to stomp in a mud puddle. Don’t worry. I think I can get the mud out of her outfit.”
“And yours?” he asked, his gaze inadvertently drawn to her damp blouse, which emphasized her small breasts and hardened nipples encased in lace. Feeling a slow, seductive curl of warmth in his stomach, he blinked and forced his gaze down to his daughter. Lilly was clinging to Amanda’s leg. Hiding again. Jack sighed. Failure was an alien concept to him, but when he looked at his daughter, all his wins at work turned to dust.
“Dry cleaning works wonders,” Amanda said, and turned to Lilly. “While you and I were playing in the mud, I bet your daddy bagged another big deal this afternoon.”
Lilly looked at him with wide, solemn, unblinking green eyes.
“Hey, princess,” he said, and gently touched her soft, damp cheek with his knuckles. “Did you have fun today?”
She nodded, but said nothing.
He glanced down at the bedraggled, stuffed cat she held in her hand. “We’ll need to wash your kitty, too,” Jack said, feeling, as he often did with his daughter, at a loss.
“Miss Annabelle,” Lilly whispered.
His heart squeezed. Lilly rarely spoke, even in a whisper.
“Miss Annabelle needs a bath and you do, too,” he said.
“’Manda says I get a cookie,” Lilly whispered.
He glanced up at Amanda and raised his eyebrows. He wondered how she had won over his daughter so quickly.
“A cookie is a magical thing,” Amanda told him, as if she could almost read his mind.
An hour later, after Jack pulled strings and got a doctor to examine the nanny, and Amanda gave Lilly a bath, he joined his assistant and daughter for a dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches and soup.
“I would have heated the casserole if I’d known about it,” Amanda said. “Ms. Brown mentioned it when I took her soup to her room.”
Noting the way his daughter gobbled down her sandwich instead of picking at her food the way she usually did, Jack shook his head. “No, this is fine. It was kind of you to feed us.”
“Not exactly a celebration dinner,” Amanda said with a wry smile.
“Celebration?” Jack repeated.
“For the Eastco account.”
“How did you know I got it?”
She rolled her eyes. “As if they stood a chance.”
He felt a curious rush of pleasure at her praise. “You’re assuming I always win.”
“Safe assumption. I’ve seen you in action,” Amanda said, then turned to Lilly. “I think your dad deserves a cookie. What do you think?”
Lilly stared at him, then nodded at Amanda. “Can I please have another cookie?” she whispered.
Amanda gave a mock gasp. “Another cookie? But you’ve already had two today.” She bent closer to Lilly. “Are you sure you’re not a cookie monster in disguise?”
Lilly giggled, and the sound surprised Jack again. He gazed at Amanda and made a quick, instinctive decision. “It’s getting late. Why don’t you stay here tonight?”
Amanda did a double take and looked at Jack as if he’d sprouted horns. “I—I don’t have any clothes for work tomorrow and—”
“I can take you by your apartment on the way to the office,” Jack said, thinking he’d never seen her flustered.
She blinked. “And my cat,” she managed. “I need—”
“Do you have a neighbor you can call?”
“Well, yes—”
“Good,” Jack said, knowing he was railroading her. He hadn’t seen his daughter this happy in weeks, and if Amanda was the magic potion, then he sure as hell didn’t want her leaving yet. “Then it’s settled. You probably want to get out of those wet clothes. I’ll see if I can find something for you to put on after your bath.”
He returned shortly with one of his terry robes and a pair of silk pajamas he’d never worn. When his wife Sandra had left two years ago, he’d gotten rid of every remaining article of clothing she’d left behind. He’d wanted no sign of her left in the house. She’d taken his name, his money and his daughter, and left him with bitter emptiness. Sandra might be dead, but the damage she’d caused continued.
The complete and utter sense of failure he’d felt at the time of the divorce echoed through him again as he watched Amanda with his Lilly through Lilly’s open bedroom door.
Brooding, Jack absently noticed Amanda had climbed into Lilly’s small bed with his daughter as she read and sang with her instead of sitting in the chair beside Lilly’s bed as Ms. Brown did. After she finished The Little Engine That Could and a chorus of “Eensy Weensy Spider,” Jack entered the room and kissed Lilly good-night.
Amanda left the door cracked and joined him in the hallway. “I think she’s a goner.”
“Are you sure you didn’t miss your calling?” Jack asked her.
She met his gaze. “What do you mean?”
“You’re so good with children. Did you ever think about working with them in some professional way?”
She gave a half smile and shook her head. “I got my experience the natural way. I had a younger brother and younger sisters. My father died when I was young, so my mother counted on me a lot. Then when my mother died, they needed me even more.”
“I forgot about your family,” he mused, wondering why he hadn’t paid more attention. “I’ve noticed the pictures on your desk, but you don’t mention them often.”
“Oh, I love them all,” Amanda said, her voice full of affection. “Both my sisters received academic scholarships to college, and my brother operates his own successful home-remodeling business. I’m very proud of them, so don’t get me started,” she warned him. “I won’t stop and I’ll end up boring the boss to death.”
“I’m not bored,” he told her. “Would you like a nightcap before you turn in?”
Amanda hesitated, a flash of uncertainty sweeping across her face. For a second he thought she might refuse and felt a strange sting of disappointment.
“Thank you. That would be nice,” she finally said, and pulled the lapels of his robe closer together as they walked toward the den.
“The robe swallows you.”
“Uh—well—”
“You’re not going to lie to be polite, are you?”
Amanda’s cheeks bloomed with color. “Okay, yes, it does. But it’s not a problem. It’s just for one night.”
He headed for the bar on the other side of the room. “What would you like to drink?”
“White wine,” she said, sitting stiffly in an overstuffed chair. “I don’t have a sophisticated palate. One glass usually makes me sleepy.” She gave an earnest but strained smile. “You have a lovely home.”
“Thank you. The decorator was highly recommended,” he said, placing the wineglass in her hand. He’d had the entire house redone after his marriage broke up, but he didn’t impart that information to Amanda. He noticed her toes were curled into the Oriental carpet and he wondered about her uneasiness.
She nodded. “Whoever it was did a nice job.”
Silence followed. Despite her tension, her presence reminded him of background music. He studied her again. Her hair, still slightly damp from her shower, was pushed behind her ear on one side and curved over her cheek on the other. Her skin was fresh-scrubbed and glowing. The robe gaped slightly at the neck, revealing the gentle curve of her breast; and lower, where she crossed her legs, he saw one silky calf.
He glanced at her face again and something about the restlessness in her dark eyes was sexy to him. He took a quick drink of whiskey at the thought.
If women were music, then he always chose loud, showy numbers, the better to make him forget his marriage failure. Amanda was background music. Too soft, too gentle. With her, he would have time to think.
Strolling closer to her, he propped a hand on a cherry end-table and looked down at her. “You’ve worked for me for four years now. Why are you uneasy with me?” he asked.
She sucked in a quick breath of surprise and glanced away. “I’m not. Well, maybe I am,” she said, running her sentences together. “It’s a different situation. A little odd. I’m wearing your robe, caring for your daughter, drinking a glass of wine with you.” She finally looked up at him. “It’s not the office.”
“As you were singing ‘Eensy Weensy Spider’ with my daughter, it occurred to me that aside from the fact that you are the best assistant I’ve ever had, I don’t know much about you.”
She nervously brushed her hand against her neck. “There’s not much to know,” she said, and when he didn’t fill the silence, added, “I’m kinda quiet.”
Determined to dissolve her discomfort, he took another drink and nodded. “For the next five minutes, forget I’m your boss.”
She gave him a doubtful look and shook her head.
“It’s an order.”
Still doubtful, she sighed. “I’ll try.”
“You have a cat.”
Amanda smiled. “Yes, Delilah. She’s been spayed, but the neighbors in my apartment call her a—” she paused, then shrugged “—slut for human attention.”
His lips twitched in amusement. “So, you live with a slut?”
“Yes, I’ve tried to reform her, but it’s futile.”
“What do you do when you’re not working?”
“Well, I have a very demanding and challenging job, so I don’t have a lot of time to spare.”
“Nice try. Now give the real answer.”
“I belong to a fitness club where I swim a few times each week. I volunteer with a professional advocacy organization for teenage girls and I have friends I jom for lunch, dinner and shopping. Are you asleep yet?”
“No,” he said and swallowed a chuckle. “Men?”
She paused and seemed almost to hold her breath. “Not at the moment.”
He nodded, not quite sure why he’d asked that question. “What do you think of your boss?”
She gave him a long-suffering glance, and Jack wondered how he’d missed the stories her eyes could tell. She looked away again. “He is very challenging and demanding, but also rewarding. Intelligent, makes things happen,” she said. “He leaps tall buildings in a single bound, but he is occasionally human.” Her gaze slid to the brass clock on the mantel and she handed him her still-full wineglass. “Five minutes is up.”
“I didn’t notice.”
“You weren’t the one under the microscope,” she said with gentle reproof, and stood. “Thank you for the wine. Your daughter is beautiful and sweet. You’re lucky. If you ever need me to pinch-hit again, let me know.”
He frowned thoughtfully as she turned away. “Amanda,” he said, stopping her with his voice.
She turned, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were braced for another trip under the microscope. “Yes?”
He detested asking the question, hated that he didn’t have the answer himself. “Why is my daughter afraid of me?”
Her face softened. “You said yourself that she hasn’t spent much time with you. You’re larger than life to her. So tall, so strong. Even your voice is strong.”
“That’s why she whispers,” he muttered, and took another sip of whiskey.
“She doesn’t know your secret yet.”
He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. “And what is my secret?”
“That you would do just about anything to make her happy. When she learns that, you’re cooked.” She met his gaze with gentle reassurance. “She’ll be okay. You’ll both be okay.”
Jack watched Amanda walk out of the room and wondered how his assistant knew so much more about him than he knew about her.
Two
He had looked at her.
Amanda stared wide-eyed at the ceiling in the guest bedroom of Jack’s home. She was wearing his pajamas, sleeping in his house.
All because she was good with kids, her rational mind reminded her. And she was not sleeping.
