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‘How will our ideas about a nanny’s duties differ?’
She eyed him uncertainly. ‘I think you’ll expect me to be on duty twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. And I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in working those kinds of hours. That’s not the reason I came to Tesoura. I’m here to spend some time with my aunt. And in my free time I plan to lap up all of the tropical gorgeousness that I can.’ Until she returned home, and her real life started. A thrill rippled through her at the thought…along with a growing thread of fear. ‘The former is going to prove difficult and the latter impossible with a baby in tow.’
He tapped a finger against his lips. ‘Asking you to work those hours would be completely unreasonable.’ He said the words with such a deep regret that in other circumstances she might’ve laughed.
She didn’t laugh. She edged towards the door before she weakened and did what he wanted—became a full-time carer to that gorgeous bundle of baby.
‘Where are you going?’
His sharp tone pulled her to a halt. ‘To go and perform the duties you’re currently paying me for.’
‘You can’t leave me alone with the baby.’ Panic rippled across his face. ‘Please.’
That please caught at her, tugged on all of her sympathies and completely baffled her. ‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know a single thing about babies.’
George had been staring at them as if aware of the tension that had started to zing through the air, and he promptly burst into tears. She didn’t blame him. She swooped down and lifted him in her arms, patting his back as he snuffled against her neck. ‘Well, lesson number one is to not yell around them. It upsets them.’
Aunt Katherine came into the room with her brisk step. ‘Goodness, I thought I heard a baby. So the cot and pram that were just delivered weren’t mistakes, then?’
Jasper gave a curt shake of his head and gestured towards George. ‘Emily’s baby.’
Her aunt’s eyes widened. ‘Well, now, that’s a turn up for the books.’ She moved across and clasped one of George’s hands. ‘Hello, little man, it’s nice to meet you. I knew your mummy, back in the days before you were born.’ She glanced back at Jasper. ‘Poor little tyke looks tired. How long is he here for?’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’
Imogen refrained from pointing out that if he read his sister’s letter, they might get an answer to that particular question.
Katherine pursed her lips. ‘Right.’
Imogen glanced from one to the other, trying to make their relationship out. Katherine had been on the island for the past two years. Before that she’d worked for the Coleman family for seventeen years. Were they friends? She bit her lip. Were they lovers? The question disturbed her, though she couldn’t have said why. At forty-nine Katherine was still young, and she was certainly attractive. While Jasper would be what—mid-thirties? It didn’t seem outside the realm of possibility.
Her aunt was keeping secrets. Every instinct Imogen had told her that. Was Jasper one of those secrets?
If he were either a friend or a lover, though, he’d have given Katherine the week’s leave she’d requested at Christmastime.
Her aunt’s laughter hurtled her back. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Jasper, because the answer is a big fat no. If I’d wanted to look after a baby, I’d have had one of my own.’
That made Imogen smile. Katherine didn’t have a maternal bone in her body.
‘But—’
‘No buts,’ Katherine said without ceremony. She glanced at Imogen and then Jasper again, and her eyes started to gleam. ‘I’ll let you continue your negotiations with Imogen, shall I?’
‘What negotiations?’ he grumbled. ‘She’s as hard-headed as you.’
Imogen surveyed her perplexing boss. For someone who’d been shocked into white-faced silence at the arrival of the baby, he seemed to have taken it into his stride now, seemed almost…resigned. Why—if he didn’t want the baby here—wasn’t he making arrangements to send the child back?
Katherine turned and patted Imogen’s arm. In a low voice she said, ‘Get him to help with the baby,’ before disappearing into the kitchen.
If she did what her aunt asked, would Katherine stop avoiding her and tell her what was wrong?
‘What did your aunt just say to you?’
She did her best to smooth out her face. ‘Only that lunch is ready.’
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t call her on the lie. She pulled in a breath. ‘Mr Coleman, I think between the three of us we can work something out.’
He widened his stance. ‘You heard your aunt—she’ll have nothing to do with him.’
‘She won’t change dirty nappies or bathe George. But she’ll give him a bottle and be happy to keep an eye on him when he’s napping.’
‘There’s one other thing you need to take into consideration, Ms Hartley, and that’s the fact that I’m not looking after that baby.’
‘Mr Coleman,’ she said very gently, ‘that’s not my problem. It’s yours.’
He knew he was being unreasonable—not to mention irrational—but he could barely check the panic coursing through him. It’d smashed through the walls he’d put up to contain it, and while part of him knew the panic was illogical, another part understood all too clearly that he had every reason to fear the consequences of his nephew’s visit.
Aaron wanted revenge, and Jasper didn’t doubt that his brother-in-law would use George as a weapon—to hurt him or extort money from him. That was the best-case scenario he could come up with—that Aaron wanted money. And Jasper would give money—a lot of money—to keep this child safe.
But he’d learned to not rely on best-case scenarios. With his luck in another day or two police would show up and arrest him for allegedly kidnapping the baby. And then he’d be charged, and there’d be court proceedings…again. The thought had exhaustion sweeping through him.
Ms Hartley was right, though. This wasn’t her problem. It was his. He dropped to the edge of the nearest sofa.
Focus.
Fact number one: the baby was here now, and arrangements needed to be made for his care. Fact number two: he didn’t want the press getting wind of this—whatever this was. Instinct warned him it’d be wiser to scotch any rumours before they started. He had to keep this as quiet as possible, which meant the fewer people who knew, the better. Those were the important facts for the moment. He could worry about the rest later.
‘Can…can you just stay there with the baby while I make a phone call?’
She frowned but nodded. Not giving her a chance to change her mind, he grabbed his phone and speed-dialled his assistant in Sydney. He needed information. ‘Evan, my sister has just had a nanny service deliver her baby to my house without warning.’
Two seconds of silence greeted him before Evan said, ‘What do you need me to do?’
‘Can you find out what Emily and Aaron’s movements are at the moment? Discreetly.’
‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I find anything out.’
‘The sooner the better, please.’
He tossed his phone to the coffee table and scratched a hand across his head. It was entirely unreasonable to ask Imogen to be on call with the baby all the hours of the day and night. It contravened every workplace agreement he subscribed to. It was unethical. He’d taken great pains to ensure his company’s workplace practices were above reproach. It was especially important now to continue in the same vein.
Besides, neither Katherine nor Imogen were the kind of women to be browbeaten by a domineering boss. Not that he was domineering, but he wouldn’t be able to cajole either one of them into doing something they didn’t want to do. There was a part of him that was glad about that. It indicated that they had integrity. It was important right now to surround himself with people of integrity.
The sofa dipped a little as Imogen sat beside him. ‘I want to pat your back much the same way as I am little George’s at the moment.’
He met warm brown eyes flecked with green and filled with sympathy. He straightened. ‘Please don’t.’ The thought of her touching him…
He cut the thought off.
George had nestled his head in against her shoulder and noisily sucked a dummy, while she rubbed slow, soothing circles to his back—lulling and hypnotic. It took a force of will to lift his gaze back to her face. Up this close he could see the light spattering of freckles across her nose.
‘Of course I’d not do anything so forward. But it’s obvious your nephew’s arrival has come as something of a shock.’
Understatement of the century.
‘I think I should leave you in peace for the next hour or so to read your sister’s letter, and to take stock of the situation. I’ll keep this little guy with me for the present.’
That was kind, but…
‘Wait,’ he said as she started to rise.
She subsided back to the sofa. He let out a low breath. He wasn’t ready to read Emily’s letter yet. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to believe a single word it said. ‘You honestly believe that between the three of us, we’d be able to look after the baby?’
‘Yes.’
‘How would you see that working?’
She shrugged, and her chin-length hair—a mass of dark curls—bounced and bobbed. ‘A little bit of give and take on all sides, I expect. Though probably mostly from yours.’
He didn’t like the sound of that much. Still…needs must. ‘In what way?’
‘You’d need to cut down on some of your working hours to help out with George.’
He’d expected that.
‘Mind you, that could be a good thing. Seems to me you work too hard anyway.’
The moment the words left her mouth, she shot back in her seat. ‘I can’t believe I just said that. It was way too personal and completely out of line. I’m sorry.’
She was holding his nephew, rubbing his back—and she spoke the truth—so he let it pass. He worked long hours because, like the swimming and the running, it helped to keep the demons at bay. Keeping busy kept him sane. For the duration of the baby’s stay he’d simply be busy helping look after him instead of wrestling with complicated computer code. It wouldn’t have to be any different from his current routine.
‘And while George is here, you might need to…’
He raised an eyebrow.
‘Lower your standards of cleanliness.’
He blinked.
‘If I’m looking after George for part of the day and night, I’m not going to have the same amount of time to devote to cleaning your house.’
‘That’s fine with me.’ In fact, it was more than fine. ‘Ms Hartley, you’ve vacuumed and dusted these rooms every day since you arrived. Now far be it from me to question your work practices—I’ve never been to housekeeping school, so I don’t know what the norm is—but don’t you think vacuuming every day is overkill? I’m tidy in my habits, don’t tramp mud into the house on a regular basis, and don’t have children or dogs—’ He broke off to glance at the baby in her arms. ‘I don’t usually have children or dogs to stay.’
‘But Aunt Katherine said you had the highest expectations when it came to—’ She broke off, biting her lip.
What on earth had Katherine been telling her niece?
He pushed the thought away. He had more pressing concerns at the moment. ‘I’m happy to relax the current cleaning standards.’ He pulled in a breath. ‘There’s just one other little problem in your proposed plan.’
‘Which is?’
His stomach churned. ‘I don’t have the first idea about babies. I don’t have a clue how to feed them or what to feed them or how to prepare whatever it is that you do feed them. I’ve never changed a nappy. The thought doesn’t fill me with a great deal of enthusiasm, admittedly, but evidently it’s a chore I’m not going to be able to avoid. And precisely how do you bathe a baby without drowning it? Don’t they get slippery and hard to hold? That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, if you ask me.’
She smiled, the green sparks in her eyes dancing, and the impact of it hit him in the middle of his chest, making his heart thump.
‘I can teach you all of those things easy-peasy. But there are a couple of other things you’ll need to learn too, like cuddling and playing. Both are vital to a baby’s development.’
Before he knew what she was about, she’d leaned forward and set the baby on his lap, and he wanted to yell at her to take him back. But recalled, just in time, that he wasn’t supposed to yell around the baby. He wanted to shoot to his feet and race away. But he couldn’t because he had a lap full of baby.
He wasn’t sure how the kid would’ve reacted if he’d been fully awake—with a loud verbal protest he suspected—but, drowsy as he was, he merely nestled in against Jasper’s chest. The warm weight made his heart thud, made him wonder when was the last time he’d actually touched someone? Hell! He—
‘Stop frowning,’ she chided gently from where she’d moved to kneel in front of him, adjusting his arm so it went fully around the baby with his hand resting on the child’s tummy. ‘We don’t want George glancing up and being frightened out of his wits by the scary man glaring at him.’
The thought that he could so easily frighten his nephew sickened him.
‘I mean, that’s hard enough for a grown-up to deal with.’
Her voice held laughter, but that didn’t stop his gaze from spearing hers. ‘I’m sorry I scared you earlier. I really didn’t mean to.’
‘I know that now. I overreacted, but—’
He looped his fingers around her wrist. ‘Never apologise for trusting your instincts and being cautious. It’s better to feel a little foolish than it is to get hurt—every single time. No exceptions.’
She stared at his hand on her wrist and nodded. She’d gone very still. Had he frightened her again? He didn’t hold her tightly. She could move away at any time… Her tongue snaked out to moisten her lips and something hot and sweet licked along his veins.
He let her go in an instant.
She eased away, colour high on her cheekbones. ‘Do you mind if I check the bags?’ She gestured to the muddle of bags that apparently came with a baby.
‘By all means. Are you looking for anything in particular?’ If she took the baby back he’d look for her.
‘George’s schedule.’ He must’ve looked clueless because she added, ‘Feed times, nap times…those sorts of things.’
He tried to do what she was doing—focussing on the situation with the baby rather than that moment of…
He didn’t know what to call it. A moment of awareness that had taken them both off guard. He pulled in a breath and counted to ten.
Emotions were running high, that was all. He was holding his nephew, for heaven’s sake. A nephew he’d thought he’d never get to meet, let alone hold. It was making him hyper-aware of everything. What he didn’t need to notice at the moment, however, was the silkiness of his housemaid’s skin or the shininess of her hair. He gritted his teeth. Or the beguiling shape of her mouth.
He forced his gaze to the baby who, with half-closed eyes, continued to suck on his dummy with a kind of focussed fierceness. His chest clenched. What kind of unfairness or…or whim had turned this little guy’s life upside down? The innate fragility and helplessness of the baby, the sense of responsibility that suddenly weighed down on him, had his former panic stirring. How could he do this? How—?
‘I didn’t go to housekeeping school either,’ Imogen said out of the blue. ‘Just so you know. In case you hadn’t worked that out for yourself yet.’
She sat cross-legged on the rug, going methodically through each of the bags. And she was telling him this because…?
‘I wouldn’t want you accusing me at some distant point in the future of being here under false pretences.’
