Her Lakeside Family

Even as he explained, one of the beautiful little girls let out a yelp and his son started crying again. While his cell buzzed over and over.

“Give me the boy,” Mrs. Brownlee said in a manner that made them all stop what they were doing. “I’ll put him in his car seat and I’ll get the girls to school. You did alert the school that I have permission to drop them off and pick them up, of course.”

His gaze moved from the prim woman to Davina. “Not yet, but I’ll put that on my list.”

“Well, let’s get on with it then,” Mrs. Brownlee said, her big glasses and boot-cut jeans made her look much too hip to be a nanny.

“Look, I’ll drop the girls at school,” he replied. “And I’ll get it all straightened out. If you can just handle Nate.”

“Nate and I will be fine,” Mrs. Brownlee replied. “When you get home tonight, I’ll go over the terms of my employment. For now, we’re all going to be okay.”

He looked from her to Davina again as if caught in a trap. Again, Davina felt empathy and sympathy for him, her heart doing a little tug that made her much too aware of how handsome the man was. “Would you walk me to my car?” he asked. “So we can discuss what needs to be done with the house?”

“Sure.” Davina smiled at Mrs. Brownlee, her heart hammering an erratic beat against her insides. “I’ll be back to look over the house and do some calculating, if that’s okay with both of you.”

Mrs. Brownlee nodded. “Won’t bother me a bit.” Giving them both an impish grin, she added, “I’ll be doing the same.”

“Let’s go, girls,” he said, prodding the two dark-haired children toward his sleek sedan. After he had the chattering, fussing girls inside the car with their seat belts on, he left the driver’s door open and turned to Davina. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know who you were. I thought my sister said David...somebody...would be coming by. I wasn’t expecting—”

“A woman?” she finished. “I’ve never been called David but my dad calls me Dani.” She spelled out the nickname for him. “I prefer Davina, however.”

“Davina,” he said, his dark eyes pouring over her like liquid chocolate. “I think I’ll remember your name from now on.”

“It’s okay,” she said to hide the sizzle of something richer and darker than even his chocolate eyes. “I was hoping we could do a walk-through on the house.”

His cell buzzed with an annoying hum. “Work,” he explained, checking it and shutting it down. “I’m late for a meeting.”

And by the way he was fidgeting, he wanted out of here.

“Well, I’m burning daylight,” she said in her firm voice that usually made surprised, unsure men sit up and take notice. “What do you want me to do?”

“Rikki trusts you so I guess I will, too,” he replied, already getting into the car. “Look it over and call me with an estimate. Maybe we can meet here again later.”

“Maybe.” She wasn’t going to hold her breath on that. “My time is just as valuable as yours, so that’s your choice.”

He stared up at her again, causing Davina to shiver even while the early springtime sun was warm on her skin. “My sister says you come highly recommended,” he said. “She just neglected to explain that you’re a woman.”

“Does that matter?” Davina asked, used to this type of conversation. “I work harder than any man you could hire.” She handed him her business card.

“It matters,” he said, his tone low and gravelly. Tucking the card in his pocket, he added, “But not in the way you might think.”

Then he cranked the car and backed out of the driveway, leaving Davina to wonder why her being here should matter to him at all.

Chapter Two (#u31c29930-f7ee-52a7-a161-b38f4bd0531b)

Davina moved around the modern, sleek living room of the house on the bay, reminding herself she was taking on this job and the renovation of the other house this man had also purchased because her friend Rikki Alvanetti Kent had handpicked her. She’d known Rikki since college and they’d kept up with each other since they both worked in the same field.

Rikki was an interior designer, so they threw each other work here and there. And this was a big chunk of work.

Davina needed this project on her résumé since she was trying to establish her budding construction company as a leading player in the ever-changing Southern real estate market. But she’d heard the rumors that swirled with all the flickering evasiveness of fireflies around the quaint town of Millbrook Lake, Florida.

Santo Alvanetti came from a gangster family. A Mafia lord. His wife murdered two people close to Rikki Alvanetti and tried to kill her, too. Althea Alvanetti died in a shoot-out at an old warehouse. Detective Blain Kent killed her to save the woman he loved. The whole mess involved a diamond-and-emerald necklace that belonged to Santo’s mother, Sonia.

Everyone says they’ve changed and that they aren’t doing anything illegal now, but you need to stay away from that family.

Although she and Rikki hadn’t talked in detail about the tragedy that had happened over a year ago, Rikki had told her if she didn’t feel comfortable taking the job, they’d all understand. But Davina had a policy that had always served her well. Ignore the rumors and get to the truth. And in renovating houses, the truth always lay in the bones. This house was a showpiece, no doubt. But the bones were sorely lacking.

Something was missing.

“I don’t feel the love,” Mrs. Brownlee said as she came back into the big open area with the majestic windows that highlighted the pool and the water beyond. “I just don’t feel it at all.”

Davina turned toward the older woman. “Me either. There’s a sadness shadowing this brilliant room.”

“I think it’s called neglect,” Mrs. Brownlee replied, running her finger over a dusty table, her earrings swaying. “It lacks warmth.”

“Yes, I agree,” Davina said. She liked Virginia Brownlee. “Even with the stunning view and all the glass that brings in the sunshine, it’s still a bit cold.”

“Call me Virginia,” the other woman said. “What do you aim to do to make this place worthy of love again?”

Davina grinned and grabbed the leather tool pouch her daddy had given her for her twenty-fifth birthday. Da had always understood her need to hammer and build since he’d once owned his own construction company. A company where she’d worked after school and on weekends just to learn the business. Until her daddy had booted her out and sent her on her way once she’d finished college.

Now, she turned to study Virginia Brownlee. “You’re awfully blunt. I like that.”

“I don’t pull any punches,” Virginia replied, her brown eyes turning melancholy. “This family is in crisis. But I knew that coming in. Such a tragedy.”

Davina wasn’t going to gossip.

“But it’s not my place to discuss Mr. Alvanetti’s personal life with anyone,” Virginia replied, confirming that she didn’t intend to do that either. Lowering her voice, she added, “My focus is on the children. I’m going to check on little Nathan. I think he might be coming down with something.”

“Have you always been a nanny?” Davina asked, making conversation since they’d be around each other a lot during the next few weeks.

“No.” Her new friend started up the open stairs and unlocked the safety gate at the top.

Okay, a bit cryptic but maybe the woman didn’t like nosy questions. Davina was known for asking a lot of questions, however. Curiosity could get her into trouble.

“I’ll be measuring and taking notes,” Davina replied in a loud retort. “I’ll also have my crew come back with me later to show them what needs to be done. I think I can bring this place up to speed to sell but it’ll be a challenge.”

“And bring the light back into this home,” Virginia said with a smile, her hoop earrings jangling. Then she toddled off on her cushioned wedge loafers, her funky glasses sparkling in the sun.

Mary Poppins with Bohemian earrings is in the house, Davina thought. But this house needed someone to shake it up if Santo expected to get top dollar when he put it on the market. Davina moved around the wide rectangular kitchen, ideas popping into her head. The planes and angles of this place were sharp and jagged, made of wood, stone and granite. Icy. Cold. Unyielding.

Like the man who owned it?

His eyes weren’t icy. They were rich and warm and chocolate. She loved chocolate. Especially dark chocolate. But his onyx gaze also held a hint of regret and a longing for redemption.

Stop that, she cautioned. Out of your league. Out of your range. Not your type at all.

Davina wasn’t sure what her type was anyway, since she went through what her younger sister, Tilly, called possibles as fast as she went through nails. She didn’t have time to date, let alone think about a client in romantic terms. Her chaotic family back in Bayou Fontaine, a sleepy river town near New Orleans, needed her help.