скачать книгу бесплатно
“I’m coming.” Without thought, Amy slipped off her high-heeled shoes and started toward them. She hoped the water wasn’t too deep. Swimming wasn’t much of a concern in Kansas, where you were surrounded by farmland.
The bay was cold, despite the clear, sunny sky overhead. Her skin broke out in goose bumps when the water reached waist level, and she shivered. She was nearly within arm’s reach of the rowboat when the thought passed through her mind that the twins had gone oddly silent. That’s when she heard a masculine voice behind her say, “Maybe this will help.”
She twisted around just as her hand closed over the wooden bow.
Sunlight gilded the man’s jet-black hair, sparked the greenest gaze in all the universe. The honed angles comprising his features made for an utterly handsome face. A breath-stealing face.
Amy gaped.
Inexorably, she slowly became aware that the gorgeous man standing on the shore had a rope in his hand. Her gaze followed the dripping line, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment when she realized that one end was tethered to the front of the rowboat.
“Jeremiah,” the man said, “sit down.”
The child obeyed. The boat swayed under her grasp.
“Hold on,” he told the twins. “I’m going to haul you in.”
Out of the corner of her eye she spied the oar. She waded toward it, and when her fingers curled around the smooth surface, she was struck with the realization that the salty bay water had surely ruined her silk shirtdress. She was going to look a wreck when she trudged ashore.
Confidence. She must remember to don an air of self-assurance. Her instructor at flight attendant school had been adamant—perception was everything. If a traveler sensed you were calm and in control during any given situation, then the battle was nearly won.
She slogged onto the sand, the fabric of her dress sticking to her thighs as if it had been glued on.
The man had pulled the bow of the boat onto dry land and was plucking the boys from it when he said to her, “You’re Amy Edwards? The nanny?”
“Yes. That would be me.” She stepped forward meaning to offer him her hand, but realized her fingers were cold and damp, so she eased them behind her back. “You’re Dr. Kincaid. The boys’ uncle.”
Her well-practiced, cocksure tone came without thought, but she was anything but certain. The boys’ parents had been scheduled to leave before she arrived in Glory, Delaware. But for all Amy knew, plans could have changed. Cynthia Winthrop had told her that her brother would be with the boys when Amy arrived; however, the man could be anyone—another relative, a family friend, a neighbor.
He smiled, and Amy’s brain went haywire. She felt as if she might melt right into the carpet of thick grass beneath her bare feet.
“That’s right,” he told her. “Call me Pierce.”
He crouched down on his haunches then, turning his attention to the children.
“I thought I left you in front of the television watching a video,” he said, a distinct reprimand in his tone.
“But the movie’s been over for a long time, Uncle Pierce,” one of the boys complained.
“A long time,” the other parroted.
Surprise lifted his features. He studied his wristwatch. Then his shoulders rounded a bit and he looked down at his nephews. “So it has. I’m sorry, boys. I guess I got caught up in my work.”
Once again that vivid green gaze was on her, and it unsettled her all over again. She fought the urge to smooth her hand over her soggy dress.
“I have to say,” he told her, placing his palms on his knees and standing, “I’m impressed with your quick attempt to fetch the boys. Although I find it amusing that you went at the rescue the hard way. The lanyard was lying right there.”
Her heart pounded. Explaining herself wasn’t something she did very well, especially when she felt put on the spot. Her father had warned her that Dr. Pierce Kincaid was a highly intelligent man…and Amy usually avoided highly intelligent men. For very good reason. However, neither her dad nor Cynthia Winthrop had warned Amy that the doctor could be a grumpy Gus when he wanted to be.
During her two-day drive from Kansas, she’d pondered a hundred possible situations that might leave her looking like an idiot in front of the doctor, as well as means to avoid them. Walking into the Delaware Bay, fully clothed, had not been a scenario she’d anticipated.
“How could I see it?” she asked when the idea came to her like a bolt from the blue. “It was under water until you picked it up.”
The man’s oh-so-perfect mouth went flat. He murmured, “I guess that’s true enough.”
She added, “Besides that, someone had to rescue the oar.”
He nodded, his features relaxing as he looked at her.
“They shouldn’t have been out here alone.” She hadn’t meant to criticize, but the opinion seemed to roll off her tongue by its own volition.
Contrition darkened his green gaze. “You’re absolutely right. I shouldn’t have lost track of time like that.” After a moment, he sighed and then focused his attention on the twins.
“What were the two of you thinking?”
“The boat wasn’t on the list of rules you gave us,” one child quickly replied, blatant defensiveness in his tone. “So we thought it would be okay.”
One of the man’s dark eyebrows arched dubiously.
“Obviously your powers of deduction haven’t fully matured.”
The second twin said, “It was Benjamin’s idea.”
“Was not!”
“Was too!”
“Boys.”
Although his voice hadn’t risen at all, the children went quiet. Amy chuckled.
Horrified that all eyes were on her, she reached up and pressed her fingers to her mouth. It was nerves. No doubt about it. This situation had her as tense as a lop-eared rabbit in a rocking-chair factory.
“I’m sorry,” she said. Unwilling to reveal her state of anxiety, she only shrugged. “The twins sure are cute when they squabble.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “They’re cuter when they’re not getting into trouble.”
Automatically Amy’s gaze drifted to the twins. The red, bleary eyes of one, the defiant chin thrust of the other. A strange thing happened to her insides. They turned all warm and mushy.
“You said you were heading east,” she said. “Out into the Atlantic. You were going after your mom and dad, weren’t you? You were heading for Africa.”
The child who had been crying blinked, his chin trembling at the mention of his parents, and Amy thought her heart would dissolve right there in her chest.
She went to him, bent down and tilted her head to one side. His cheek was downy soft against her fingertips. “Are you Jeremiah? Or Benjamin?”
“Jeremiah.” The child could barely speak around the emotion lumping in his throat.
“Well, Jeremiah, I know how you’re feeling. I miss my parents, too.”
He sniffed. “Did your mom and dad go to Africa?”
Her mouth curled. “No. My dad is back in Kansas.” She paused, not quite knowing how to explain about her mother. “My mom went far, far away.”
“Farther than Africa?” Benjamin’s tone was awed.
“Farther than Africa.” She gave both boys a smile. “But you know what I do when I’m missing them something fierce?”
The children waited, subdued anticipation holding them still.
“I keep busy doing fun things,” she told him. Then she grinned. “And that’s just what we’re going to do this summer. You and me. Lots of fun things.”
“Speaking of fun things,” the boys’ uncle interjected, “who’s ready for dinner?”
She straightened and saw that he’d picked up the suitcase she’d left on the grass. He’d also gathered up her shoes. Having him carry her shoes felt too…personal to Amy. She hurried to take them from him. Their gazes collided and she murmured her appreciation. For a moment it seemed as if the cool breeze died and the sun grew hotter. Amy found it difficult to swallow.
But the stillness was broken when Jeremiah got upset all over again. He wailed, “But I don’t like ruffled sprouts.”
Benjamin’s nose wrinkled. “They smell bad.”
“They’re Brussels sprouts.” Pierce corrected his nephew with a laugh. “And they’re good for you. Packed full of vitamins. If you don’t like them, you don’t have to eat them. All I ask is that you try them.”
The boys trudged ahead of them toward the house, grumbling a warning that they intended to try only one, and that their uncle would know they didn’t like it by all the gagging they would surely make.
Beside her, Pierce sighed. “I should have set an alarm clock or something. I shouldn’t have left them alone for so long.”
“You’ve got your work,” Amy said. “When Mrs. Winthrop flew out to meet with me last week, she stressed that you had just been offered some kind of special contract. That you were on a pressing deadline. It’s understandable that—”
“But the boys could have been hurt.”
Guilt seemed to pulse from him.
“I’m sorry there was a time lag between the boys’ parents’ departure,” Amy felt compelled to say, “and my arriving. But it really couldn’t be helped.” She lifted one shoulder. “I’m unable to fly.”
“Yes. Cynthia told me that you’d been grounded.”
Amy pointed to the side of her head. “It’s an inner ear thing. I’m not in any pain. Can’t even tell there’s anything wrong. But the company physician refused to risk a perforated eardrum that might be caused by in-flight pressure changes.”
“I see.”
Silence fell like a lead balloon. Her bare feet made her feel oddly vulnerable, but she didn’t want to ruin her shoes by putting them on when salt water was still dripping down her legs from the hem of her dress. She wondered if he noticed the faint but tangy odor of the bay emanating from her. She really was a mess.
“Do you have experience with children?”
“What?” The question startled her. “No, I don’t. But your sister thought I’d do okay with the boys.”
“This isn’t an interview,” he quickly assured her. “I’m not questioning your skills.”
Maybe not, but he was probing for information that would cause him to form opinions about her. It was her habit to avoid talking about herself as much as possible. There were certain facts about herself she’d rather no one discovered.
“It’s just that you were so good with them,” he continued. “With Jeremiah especially. He’s been pretty miserable since Cynthia and John left.”
The slate stones of the patio were cool and smooth under the damp soles of her feet.
“Well, it’s easy to imagine how he’s feeling.” She moistened her lips, shifted her shoes to her other hand. “Anyone who’s hurting deserves a little compassion.”
“It eases my mind to know that you would reach out to him like you did.”
That odd stillness descended on them again, that strange heating up of the temperature, although Amy knew that was impossible.
“You must be exhausted,” he said, his voice feather soft. “You’ve been driving for two days. I’ll show you to your room so you can freshen up.”
He slid open the French door through which the boys had already disappeared and motioned for her to enter before him.
“But I’m wet,” she said, eyeing the carpet. “I’ll ruin—”
“It’s okay. Go on in.”
The cream-colored rug felt luxuriously thick as she stepped inside on tiptoes.
“And don’t worry if you don’t make it down to eat with us,” he told her, closing the door behind them. “Take your time freshening up. I’ll keep a plate warm for you.”
Just then they heard what sounded like a chair being dragged across the kitchen floor, then a loud thump, then the murmur of children’s voices.
“Why don’t you let me find my room by myself,” she suggested. “It sounds like the boys might be getting…hungry.”
“It does, doesn’t it? They are a handful. Go up the back stairs there—” he pointed the way “—and your room is the yellow one just to the right. You can’t miss it. Oh, and maybe later, after things quiet down, the two of us can meet in my study and discuss our schedules over a glass of wine. You’ll need some time off. We can figure out which days you’ll have free.”
“That sounds good,” she told him.
He started off toward the kitchen.
“Excuse me,” she called.
He turned to face her.
“Um, I will need my suitcase.”
“Oh, of course.” He brought her the case with a murmured apology. “Sorry about that.”
A grin that sexy should be deemed illegal, and his absentmindedness made him less formidable. It made him quite appealing, in fact.
She was smiling when he started off again. She couldn’t help but call out his name a final time. From the expression on his face when he looked at her, it was clear he was baffled by what else could have slipped his mind.
“I just wanted to tell you that I like ruffled sprouts.”
There was absolutely no logical reason for the odd feelings pulsing through Pierce. No logical reason whatsoever. He sat at his desk worrying his chin between his index finger and thumb.
He’d taken great care planning this room when he’d had the house built. With its floor-to-ceiling bookcases, the long oak conference table, the reading nook and the wall of wide windows, his study doubled as a library. A place he could feel comfortable reading, deciphering the data of his research and writing up his scientific findings. This richly paneled room was his oasis.
