In Bed With...Collection

Decisive, confident, fearless. Maggie was sharply reminded of her first impression of him...the aggressive vitality of the man, the flow of positive energy, the innate power that seemed to proclaim he could overcome anything or anyone, a hunter who always succeeded in attaining his goal, no matter what road he had to take or what hardship he had to endure.

A mate worth having...fighting for her...

She felt the stirring of desire again, the pins and needles of promising possibilities. Hope danced in and out of her brain, taunting her caution, fraying her doubts. He was waiting on her answer to the suggestion he’d made. Not forcing. Waiting for her to choose, of her own free will. Her heart insistently pumped one message...give it a chance.

“Then I will,” she said huskily. “I will come with you to Europe.” She managed a wobbly smile. “As a nanny.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#ud535c0fb-8216-5cc4-a273-7d8e9771b73f)

“THIS is so exciting!” Mrs. Featherfield bubbled, her eyes darting around the Rose Suite to check for any item that might have been overlooked. “Are you sure you have everything packed?”

“The list has all been ticked off,” Maggie assured her, almost light-headed with the enormity of the step she was about to take. “And I put it in the lid of the suitcase as you told me so I won’t leave anything behind.”

The housekeeper’s smile beamed with pleasure and self-satisfaction. “I taught Master Beau that a long time ago.” Tears suddenly welled into her eyes. “I remember when Mr. Vivian took him off to Europe. I’m sure Mr. Vivian would be delighted this has come about with you, my dear.”

Maggie gave her a quick hug, barely containing her own flood of emotion. “It was good of Beau to think of it,” she said huskily.

“He has a generous heart. Just like his grandfather. You’ll be safe with him, dear.”

Maggie was beginning to believe it. He’d been so different to her these past four weeks, treating her as an equal, caring, considerate, including her in planning the itinerary so she could read about the places and have the pleasure of anticipation, answering all her questions with good-natured patience and obvious enjoyment.

Best of all, he’d done what he said he’d do. Amazingly, she now had a birth certificate, credit cards and a passport, which made her feel like a real person. Even though there were no names of a mother and father on her birth certificate, it hadn’t been a deep disappointment. Somehow she’d accepted having no parents a long time ago. It was better not to have them, knowing they’d cared so little for her they’d abandoned her to the unknown...a foundling.

Besides, it was more than heart-warming to know that Beau cared about her feelings. As well as everything else, he’d insisted on arranging driving lessons, which she’d duly taken—with Wallace aiding and abetting—so she also had a provisional driver’s licence. She was suddenly, wonderfully, overwhelmed with identification papers, all of which were now securely tucked away in her newly bought traveller’s handbag.

Mrs. Featherfield pulled back and dabbed at her eyes. “Well, we mustn’t keep them waiting. I’ll carry your coat. You look so smart in those clothes, it would be a pity to clutter you up before Master Beau sees you.”

Maggie’s heart instantly kicked into overdrive. She had tried not to think of how alone together she was going to be with Beau on this trip. He had booked separate rooms, as promised, and he hadn’t once presumed on the attraction between them. Both of them did their best to ignore it, yet it was there, stronger than ever for Maggie since Beau’s attitude no longer carried any discernible trace of hostility. Sooner or later the temptation to give in to expressing it was bound to arise.

Would it be right or wrong?

She’d know when it came, she nervously assured herself.

Beau and Sedgewick were in the stairhall. Both of them turned to watch her come down as she and Mrs. Featherfield reached the balcony landing. Benevolent approval was written all over the butler’s face. Beau looked relaxed and happy. Nevertheless, Maggie felt there was more than a simmer of pleasure in his eyes as they skimmed her appearance.

She’d donned comfortable clothes, as advised, teaming black trousers and skivvy with a leopard-print velvet vest, a gold-buckled belt and her gold anchor-chain. The outfit wasn’t spectacular, just well put together, as Vivian had taught her. It was Beau’s gaze on her that made her feel it was sensational and sexy.

Or maybe it was because he looked that way to her, dressed in sage green trousers, a fawn ribbed skivvy, and a dark brown leather jacket, casually hooked over one shoulder. He had such a magnificent physique, it was difficult not to let her gaze linger on his powerfully muscled body.

“I take it all the luggage is already in the car,” she said brightly, trying to settle the flutters in her stomach with a concentration on practicalities.

“Wallace has it stowed and is standing by,” Beau answered, grinning at the efficiency with which everyone was seeing them off. It was impossible to be unaware of the staff conspiracy to encourage every move towards a harmonious and happy togetherness.

“Perhaps you will send us the occasional postcard, Nanny Stowe,” Sedgewick said, his eyebrows raised in pointed appeal.

Wanting to be kept posted on any promising developments, Maggie interpreted. “Of course I will, Sedgewick,” she assured him, hoping her smile didn’t look as stiff as it felt.

Both he and Mrs. Featherfield escorted them out to the car. Mr. Polly was standing beside Wallace, waiting for them, intent on adding his good wishes to everyone else’s.

“Mr. Vivian always reckoned the gardens at Versailles were something special. Should have a look at them when you get to Paris,” he advised.

“We will,” Beau promised.

“You have a good time now, Nanny Stowe. Mr. Vivian would be real pleased about Master Beau taking you off around the world.”

“Thank you, Mr. Polly. I can’t imagine I’ll see any roses better than yours...” He had won first prize at the Royal Easter Show with his Double Delight. “...But I will check out the gardens in Europe.”

He nodded and smiled. “Bit of care. That’s all it takes,” he said as Wallace ushered her into the back seat of the Rolls.

Beau said his last goodbyes and settled onto the seat beside her. Wallace shut the door and with an air of a dignified custodian in control of his charges. He saluted those who’d delivered them to him, took the driver’s seat, and set the trip in motion.

“Got the tickets?” Beau asked her, his green eyes twinkling with good humour.

A nanny’s job in travelling, he’d declared, was to look after tickets, see that schedules were kept, ensure that nothing was left in planes, trains, restaurants and hotels, hold ready supplies of first-aid items and emergency medications, and generally see that proper meals were taken so appropriate energy levels were maintained.

Maggie suspected that putting her in charge of the tickets was meant to make her feel she always had a passport to freedom. Beau would not hold her with him. The choice was hers.

She patted her handbag. “All correct and double-checked.” A blissful sigh of satisfaction accompanied the welling sense of a dream turning into fact. “We’re really on our way.”

Beau laughed. “You’ll feel even more so once the plane takes off. It’s always a buzz.”

It reminded Maggie that Beau was more than a seasoned traveller. Exploring the world was what he’d chosen to do with his life. She wondered how he thought fatherhood would fit into it, whether he imagined her and their child tagging along with him wherever he went.

On the other hand, when he’d proposed marriage, he’d linked Rosecliff with it, so maybe he envisaged settling there for a while. Or settling her there with the child while he came and went. Maggie wasn’t sure she liked that idea but it was premature to be considering it anyway. This was a time for gathering a true sense of what life with Beau Prescott might be like.

“I checked the weather report for London, sir. They’re having a very cool spring. Nine to fifteen degrees Celsius. You’ll have to be snuggling up,” Wallace cheerily advised.

“Thank you, Wallace. We do have coats with us,” Beau dryly replied.

“Same in Paris and Berlin. Much warmer in Rome. Twenty-four degrees Celsius there. You’ll be able to thaw out once you’re in sunny Italy. Won’t need your heavy clothes on.”

“I dare say it will be a pleasant change,” Maggie commented, hoping Wallace wouldn’t go so far as to suggest stripping off entirely.

“Speaking of Italy, I saw a TV program on the Amalfi Coast the other night,” he went on. “A couple zooming around in a red Ferrari. Great car. They stopped at a fantastic village that was built like it was hanging on to a cliff. Positano it was called. Looked very romantic.”

“Well, we may make it there,” Beau said agreeably.

Wallace continued to be a font of information all the way to the airport. He didn’t precisely suggest Beau and Maggie become lovers but the implication was in everything he said. Maggie tried not to feel awkward about it. Beau was very smooth in making light of the more pointed comments. Nevertheless, the pressure to deliver on the promise got to her again.

It was a relief to say goodbye to Wallace but she was hopelessly tense once she was alone with Beau, keeping a rigid distance so there’d be no accidental touching in the airport terminal, fumbling with the tickets at the check-in counter, looking anywhere but directly at him. She found herself tongue-tied, too, nodding when he spoke to her, unable to offer any conversation as they made their way to the first-class lounge to await their flight.

She had a craven urge to run away. People in power make prisons but people you care about also make prisons, she thought. Before coming to Rosecliff, she’d only been responsible for herself. She hadn’t let herself become too emotionally involved with anyone or any place. Now she couldn’t shrug off those who cared about her and she also had to consider what was best for the baby. Running away wasn’t really an option anymore. It wouldn’t be fair.

She took a chair by the window in the lounge and stared out at a line of huge jet aeroplanes, waiting for their loads of passengers and cargoes. The only plane she’d ever been in was a four-seat Cessna, commonly used in the Australian outback. How these enormous machines lifted off the ground was a marvel. Soon she would be on one, flying off to the other side of the world. But not alone.

Never alone again, she thought, one hand straying to her stomach. She’d missed a period and the tightness in her breasts was another physical manifestation of her pregnancy. The changes in her body heralded changes in her life she couldn’t turn back from. Nor did she want to. Yet she couldn’t help feeling apprehensive about the future.

Beau brought her a cup of tea—she’d gone off coffee—and settled into the armchair beside hers. She muttered a “Thank you,” still not looking him in the eye.