The Secret Mother

‘Do your parents still live in New York?’

Caroline shook her head. ‘They were freelancing, covering a fire at a chemical plant in New Jersey, when they were killed in an explosion.’

‘How long ago was that?’

‘While I was in my final year at college.’

‘May I ask how old you are now?’

She hesitated, then answered, ‘Nearly twenty-six,’ and saw by his face that he’d put her down as considerably older.

‘And you’ve been a children’s nanny how long?’

‘Since leaving college.’ She felt guilty that it wasn’t the truth, but it might save him digging any deeper.

Matthew Carran’s green gaze probed her face. His eyes had always had the power to warm or freeze. Now, as though he had guessed she was lying, they could only be described as glacial.

After a moment he changed tack to ask, ‘Does your present employer insist on you wearing a uniform?’

‘No.’ Lois Amesbury had been happy to keep things informal.

‘Would you have any objection to wearing one?’

Disliking the idea, but aware that it would be unwise to say so, Caroline bit her lip before answering, ‘No.’

‘What made you decide to become a nanny?’

‘I like children.’ That was the truth. She had always had an affinity for children.

His tone silky, he suggested, ‘So perhaps you regard being a nanny as an easy way of earning a living?’

Stung, she retorted, ‘I’ve never thought of it like that... And being a nanny is not an easy way of earning a living. It just happens to be the work I prefer.’

After staring at her for what seemed an age, but could only have been seconds, he asked with a twist to his chiselled lips, ‘What qualifications have you, apart from “liking children”?’

Flushing, she said, ‘I’ve passed all the prescribed courses in child care and development, diet and first aid.’

‘What do you think are the two most important things in a young child’s life?’

She answered immediately. ‘Security and affection.’

For an instant he seemed to be gripped by some powerful emotion, then it was gone, leaving his lean, dark face devoid of expression.

Unwilling to meet his eyes, Caroline stared at his hands. He had good hands. Lean, well-shaped, masculine hands, with long fingers and neatly trimmed nails.

All at once, going off at a tangent, he queried, ‘Do you smoke?’

She blinked. ‘No.’

‘Drink?’

‘No.’

‘But no doubt there is...shall we say, a man in your life?’

It was almost as if he was taunting her, and suddenly she found herself wishing passionately that she hadn’t put herself through this ordeal.

‘No.’

The brilliant eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, come now...’

With a flash of spirit, she retorted, ‘I hadn’t realised that having a man in my life was compulsory.’

As soon as the imprudent words were out, Caroline cursed herself for a fool. Why was she antagonising Matthew Carran when she so desperately wanted this job?

‘I can do without the sarcasm, Miss Smith.’ His tone was repressive.

‘I’m sorry. But surely I’m entitled to a private life?’

‘Everyone is entitled to a private life. I just want to be sure yours won’t affect your charge. When Caitlin’s grandmother died...’

Caitlin, Caroline thought, her heart feeling as though it might burst. They’d called her Caitlin.

‘...and I had to engage a nanny, I made a bad mistake.’ His mouth a thin, hard line, Matthew added grimly, ‘I have no intention of making another.’

‘If there was a man in my life I wouldn’t dream of letting it affect any child in my care,’ Caroline said quietly. ‘But there is no one.’

Tension had dewed her face with a fine film of perspiration, and, feeling her spectacles slip, she pushed them further up the bridge of her nose.

‘Why are you wearing glasses?’

His question, coming with the speed of a striking rattlesnake, threw her. ‘I—I’m sorry?’

‘I asked why you’re wearing spectacles.’

‘Because I... I need them.’

Rising to his feet, he leaned across the desk and without so much as a by your leave lifted the glasses from her nose. For a long moment, while shock held her rigid, he looked deep into her clear aquamarine eyes.

Whatever he saw in them—anxiety, pain, loneliness, sadness—his own showed not the slightest sign of either pity or recognition.

Caroline gave thanks to whatever guardian angel was watching over her.

Prematurely, it seemed, as a moment later Matthew was raising the spectacles and squinting through the lenses.

He passed them back to her and, as she hurriedly replaced them, queried succinctly, ‘Why do you need spectacles that are just tinted glass?’

She stammered out the only answer she could think of, ‘I—I thought it would be better if I looked older.’