The Playboy And The Nanny

It certainly explained the bonus offer he’d made her when she’d met him at his office yesterday afternoon. He’d detailed his son’s stubbornness, his reluctance to toe the line, his determined rebellion in the face of parental authority.

“I thought I could handle it myself,” he’d said gruffly. “Now I don’t think so. But I need it done. If you bring him up to scratch at the end of six months—if you last six months—I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars bonus.”

Mari had gaped at him.

And then, steepling his hands on his desk, and looking at her over the tops of his fingers, he’d said, “And if you quit before six months are up, you owe me ten.”

“Ten?”

“Thousand dollars.”

To him it was chicken feed. To her, in her family’s straitened circumstances, it was more than she could promise.

But she wouldn’t have to give him ten thousand dollars, she’d reminded herself—if she didn’t quit. She wouldn’t quit She knew she couldn’t quit!

“All right,” she’d agreed.

“He must have been kidding,” she said hopefully now to the dark brooding man who sat and watched as all these thoughts flitted across her face.

Slowly, deliberately, Nikos Costanides shook his head. “No.”

“But—”

“He’s hired you to reform me.”

Mari wanted to deny it. She couldn’t. She had the awful sinking feeling that it was true.

“I can‘t—”

“You bet your sweet tail you can’t!” he said harshly. “So just march yourself up to the house and tell him the joke is on him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, go tell him you’re not going to play. That whatever he’s paying you, it’s not enough. That there’s no way on earth he can con you into staying.”

Ah, but there was. There was that enormous white elephant of a house her aunts owned—their pride and joy, their legacy from their profligate father. It ate money. They couldn’t give it up.

“Where would we go, dear?” Aunt Em’s frail voice echoed in her ears. “We’ve always lived here.”

“Can’t put Em in one of those homes,” Aunt Bett said over and over. “It’d kill her.”

Probably, Mari acknowledged, it would. Aunt Em had a bad heart. It wouldn’t feel any better if she learned about Aunt Bett’s disastrous attempt to bail them out by playing the ponies, either.

Actually having to leave their home would likely kill them both. And Mari could see that they didn’t have to leave it—she could even see that the gambling debt was paid and the house had new struts, new paint and a new roof—if she managed to keep this job and earn Stavros Costanides’ bonus.

“No,” she said. “I can’t.”

Nikos Costanides scowled at her. “Why the hell not?”

“Because I need the job.”

“What did he offer you?”

Mari blinked. “What?”

“Obviously he offered you a bundle,” Nikos said impatiently. “Fine. I’ll offer you more to leave.”

It was tempting. Terribly tempting. She wanted to take it. And yet—

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

He glared at her. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

She knotted her fingers. “My reputation is at stake.”

“What?” He looked thunderous.

“I have a professional reputation, as I said before.” She felt her cheeks warm and, certain that he could see how flimsy that excuse was, she felt compelled to add, “Not the sort you imagined, but such as it is, it’s important to me,”

His jaw clenched. Their eyes battled.

Mari’s heart beat faster, her pulses raced. She felt like a racehorse in the home stretch, given its head. “All you have to do is shape up,” she reminded him a little breathlessly.

“Like hell. I’ll be damned if I’ll knuckle under to his threats!”

“Yes, well—” She took a careful shallow breath, then shrugged lightly. “Maybe you can’t.”

A nerve in his temple pulsed. He shoved a hand through disheveled dark hair. His eyes narrowed. “You’re saying you’re staying, Ms. Lewis?”

Say no, she told herself. Walk out. To hell with your reputation, your aunts, the hundred thousand dollars, the way he kisses! Where’s your common sense?

She didn’t know. She only knew that something had happened when Nikos Costanides kissed her. She had been kissed before. Heavens, she’d even been engaged before. But when Ward had kissed her it had been pleasant, warm, and in a few seconds, gone.

Even now the imprint of Nikos’s mouth was still on hers. The taste of him was a part of her, reaching into her. And somewhere deep inside it was as if a fundamental answering chord responded.

She hadn’t known such a response existed. She wanted desperately—perhaps foolishly—to know more.

Sanity—despite her reputation, her aunts, the money——told her to say no. It was foolish. It was insane to agree to be nanny to a grown man for any reason or any amount of money.

Mari was practical. Mari was sensible. Mari was grounded.

“People who are grounded have never flown,” her free spirit uncle Arthur always said with a twinkle and a hint of challenge in his eye.

She took a deep breath and said, “Yes.”

CHAPTER TWO

SHE had lost her mind.