The Texas Billionaire's Bride / The Texas Bodyguard's Proposal: The Texas Billionaire's Bride

“The family businesses are important to me,” he said. “Among other things, they’re Livie’s legacy, and I intend to give her a great one. As an only child, she’ll take over all of my share one day, the oil holdings, as well as real-estate interests.”

He said it as if he planned to never get married or have children again. In some weird way, that got to Melanie.

But…jeez. Like she should even be mulling over his most intimate decisions.

“I’m sure your daughter will be grateful for everything you do,” she said.

“You should also know that I spend a lot of time defending our investments, not just building them up. That’s what takes up the majority of my schedule, and the work’s too important for me to spend as much time in Austin with Livie as most people expect.”

“Right,” she said, figuring she would show him just how much research she’d done. “I read that you have to defend against people like the McCords.”

His mouth tightened once more, this time at the name of the family who’d been taking part in a well-known feud with the Foleys for generations.

Oops. She made a mental note never to mention them again.

Zane Foley seemed eager to be rid of the subject. “The bottom line is this—my commitments require a lot of me, and that’s why I need someone to depend on for Livie. Someone who’s more or less my proxy, enforcing my rules and raising her the way I need her to be raised.”

She chafed at his authoritarian tone. What was his daughter to him—another project to develop, like the ones he oversaw in his office?

But Olivia—Livie—was a little girl, and—from what Melanie had seen in her eyes, even for the few minutes they’d conversed—she needed more than rules and routines.

Melanie was on the cusp of saying so when she remembered how much she wanted this job.

“I understand, Mr. Foley,” she said instead, keeping the peace, even if she didn’t really understand him at all.

He gave her one last look from those striking hazel eyes, and she fortified herself against it—almost successfully, too. He only got her tummy to flip one more time.

Then he rose from his chair, leaving her dossier and portfolio on the table.

Melanie held her breath. Was the interview over?

But he only walked away from the table, toward the hushed hallway.

When he saw that she wasn’t following, he waited, and she realized that he wanted her to come, too.

Okay then.

As she stood, she grabbed her suit jacket from the back of her chair, then smoothed down the skirt of the only conservative business outfit she owned.

She made her way across the room to him, her heels clopping on the hard floor, echoing way too loudly for her comfort.

He avoided the door and led her down the hall.

Where was he taking her?

“Livie will receive a full education,” he said, beginning to fire off his expectations, “even when she’s not in school.”

“I’m prepared to teach Livie,” she said, excitement churning. He was going to make an offer! “With Ms. Sandoval’s daughter, Toni, I planned a different learning experience every day, and doing the same here would be wonderful.”

“Livie would benefit from your dance background in particular.”

Melanie’s blood jolted, but then she realized he was probably talking about all the classes, from ballet to jazz to hip-hop, she’d taken. “Livie has taken dance before?”

“No, but she needs to let out her energy in a constructive manner.”

“I see.”

“Other than that, her schedule is set. Firm. Don’t deviate from it, because she responds well to structure. It might be your biggest saving grace.”

Based on Zane Foley’s well-ordered townhouse, as well as all his comments, Melanie wondered if, when she arrived in Austin, she would find Livie inhabiting something like a high-class jail.

Fuming inwardly, she told herself to stay quiet. You want this job, you need this job, so keep your opinions to yourself for now.

They came to what looked to be a study, with more dark, finely etched antique furniture carefully placed about the room: a desk set that held a laptop computer and organized files, a curio cabinet, shelves teeming with leather-bound books that lent the air a thick, musty scent.

There were also large, framed paintings on the walls, the biggest being an old family portrait of the Foleys that featured brothers Jason and Travis, both of whom couldn’t have been more than ten years old at the time, even though Travis looked a little younger. They stood next to their dad, Rex, an affable looking man with a charming grin. Then there was Olivia Marie, their deceased mom, who wore her own gentle smile as she hooked her arm through Rex’s.

On the fringes of them all was Zane, who even in his early teens seemed to carry himself with a combination of cockiness and seriousness.

When Melanie glanced away from the portrait, she found that Zane was behind her, standing in front of a different painting. Livie’s.

A recent depiction of a sweet little girl in a pink dress, her wavy dark hair held back by a lacy headband. She smiled faintly and held a stuffed lamb.

The picture got to Melanie, yet it was the expression on Zane’s face that just about melted her altogether.

Naked love and devotion.

But then it turned into something else—destruction—and Melanie wondered what could have possibly turned one emotion into the other so quickly.

As Zane stared at his daughter’s portrait, he wasn’t seeing Livie so much as someone else entirely. Danielle.

His wife, dead six years now, but still so agonizingly alive in the face of his daughter.

He couldn’t stand the questions that always came afterward: would Livie grow up to be just like her mother? Would his daughter break her own husband’s heart someday, too?

Would she have the same mood swings—from dark to manic—that had escalated into that awful day when Danielle had taken her own life?

He glanced away, his attention locking on the svelte figure of Melanie Grandy. With sunny blond hair that swept her shoulders and blue eyes that seemed to sparkle even when she wasn’t smiling, she was the opposite of Danielle and Livie. But from her heart-shaped face to her ill-fitting blue business suit that he supposed she’d purchased just for these interviews—she’d worn the skirt the other day, too—he got the impression of vulnerability. A leggy wisp of a woman, she might not be so different from Danielle after all.

At his inspection, she raised her chin, a habit he’d become familiar with even during their short acquaintance.

No, this woman had a core to her. She also had an innate dignity that sent a buzz of heat through his veins.

Raw beauty, he thought, flashes of an unpolished diamond lighting his mind’s eye.

But the glare of it made him realize that there was no room for any kind of attraction, especially since she seemed to be a perfect fit for Livie. And thank God for Andrea Sandoval’s timely reference, because the last nanny had quit, leaving Zane at loose ends. He’d needed a quick hire, and since Ms. Grandy didn’t have a criminal record and had come with the highest recommendation from a family friend, he seized the opportunity.

It was just a bonus that his daughter would match well with her new nanny. Livie required someone with spine enough to stand tall and firm, as Ms. Grandy had gracefully done throughout their interviews.