The Millionaire's Nanny Arrangement

“I’m far more concerned with making the most of her intelligence. Kids are born knowing how to play.”

“Well, I think you’re wrong about that.” Kelsey didn’t know what possessed her, exhaustion she supposed, but she was still annoyed that the child had been running loose in the airport without supervision. Add to that Mariah’s concern about her father’s emotional well-being, and Kelsey figured the guy needed to get a clue. “Socialization is important, too, particularly at this age.”

“My daughter is quite social, as you have already observed.”

“That’s not what I meant. Did it ever occur to you that she needs to be a little girl instead of worrying about you?” Oops. Now she’d gone too far.

He blinked, those intense eyes hardening to onyx. “Excuse me. I think this interview is concluded.”

Well, la-dee-da. Concluded.

“And here I didn’t even know an interview was going on. Silly me.” Story of her life. Lose the job before she even applied for it. Before she could shove the next words back down her smart-aleck throat, she blurted, “Sounds like somebody needs a nap, and I don’t mean your daughter.”

After a tense ten seconds while her former classmate contemplated her with both surprise and curiosity and maybe even a little horror, he turned aside and stared out the frosted window.

Steepling his fingers, he bounced them against his chin with a sigh of utter hopelessness. For a fleeting moment, Ryan Storm, king of Storm International, looked like a lost child himself. Kelsey felt a twinge of sympathy, which made no sense under the circumstances. First of all she should be red-hot and furious at his dismissal, but she wasn’t. She thought his defensive reaction was kind of funny and pompous and completely characteristic of the brooding young man she’d known in high school. He’d moved through the hallways with a know-it-all stare and a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas Stadium. Though he said little, his groupies followed, anxious to do the bidding of the rough-edged boy in fitted T-shirt and faded jeans. He was in command even then.

Secondly, and probably most important given the unpredictable state of her emotions, here was a man of enormous success and confidence who had the world in the palm of his hand. She, on the other hand, was a mess. Why should she feel sorry for Ryan Storm?

Mariah, who hadn’t missed a single glare or sigh or comment, glanced from her father’s stormy face to Kelsey’s and back again. “Can’t we negotiate?”

Worry filled her dark eyes and pinched Kelsey’s conscience. Concern for her daddy emanated from her small form in pleading waves. Here was a child who could probably read Shakespeare but was stuck with a workaholic father who hadn’t a clue. If ever a little girl needed a mommy, this one did.

“Didn’t you hear? Kelsey isn’t interested in the job,” Ryan muttered.

Maybe it was the child’s big brown eyes.

Maybe it was the father’s lost expression. Maybe it was hormones.

Most likely it was pure desperation.

“Actually,” Kelsey said. “I think I am.

CHAPTER TWO

SLOWLY, SLOWLY, RYAN TURNED towards the woman. First, she’d told him he had no idea how to raise his own child. And now, she wanted to work for him.

He didn’t think so.

He ran a hand down his face, heard the scratch of beard left untended.

Bone weary of sitting in this airport, he had missed two crucial meetings, and had just spent forty-five minutes on the telephone trying without success to salvage a deal gone sour. By the time he’d ended the call, Mariah had done one of her disappearing acts. His little girl was the only person on the planet who could ruffle his composure and send him into panic mode.

When he’d rounded the concourse and seen her here, talking to the pregnant woman, safe and sound, he’d nearly imploded with relief. If anything happened to Mariah, he couldn’t go on.

Losing Amanda had nearly killed him. Losing Mariah would.

As it was, she drove him crazy, her brilliant mind too young to make appropriate decisions and too smart not to explore the world around her. Once, she’d gotten away from Janine with a handful of change from his dresser and had boarded the trolley for a trip to the Dallas World Aquarium. A quick-thinking driver had saved them all a great deal of grief.

The child needed a keeper who was as smart as she.

Running on minimal sleep, he wasn’t in the best frame of mind to make decisions. But Kelsey Slater, boy hater? Probably not.

All the reasons why he should not hire Kelsey loomed before him as obvious as her pregnant belly. That was the number one reason right there. Pregnant women made him nervous. No, not nervous. Terrified.

But she was someone he knew, at least had known. Kelsey had been the nice, ordinary girl in the front row whose hand was always in the air, volunteering to head the homecoming committee or to do cleanup after the dance. Only she looked so different. Really different. Her glasses had hidden the most stunning blue-green eyes he’d ever seen and a delicate, heart-shaped face framed by long, loose hair the color of his bedroom furniture. Mahogany. And he shouldn’t be thinking of his bedroom in the same sentence with a nanny applicant.

Sheesh. He was tired.

“What makes you think you’re right for the job?”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

The fact that I want to shut that sassy mouth of yours with a kiss.

For a horrified second, he thought he might have spoken aloud but when she didn’t slap his face, he breathed a sigh of relief and said instead, “My daughter seems quite taken with you. Her needs are paramount.”

“As they should be.” She shifted uncomfortably. An airport was no place for a pregnant woman. She didn’t look too far along, but her face and arms were thin, as if she’d recently lost weight instead of gaining. She could be about to pop for all he knew. A shudder of dread quivered up his spine and, in spite of the frigid temperatures, sweat broke out on his upper lip.

“I have a number of people to interview once we’re back in Dallas. I’m sure I’ll find someone suitable.”

She gave him a look that said she questioned his sanity, a legitimate concern at the moment.

“Look, Ryan,” Miss Pregnant and alone said.

“Let me be honest here. I need a job and a place to live. I allowed my Texas teaching credentials to expire and even after I renew them, it’s the middle of the term and I’m pregnant.” She would have to bring that up again. “Finding a position isn’t going to be easy.”

No. She wouldn’t do. He couldn’t put himself through the agony of being reminded of those last days with Amanda.

“I’m an excellent teacher,” Kelsey said. “And a good person who adores kids and knows how to get the best out of them. You know me, at least somewhat. That has to be a plus. I can do a good job for you and for Mariah.”

He could read through an applicant’s motives faster than gossip and Kelsey’s were nothing short of desperation.

Sympathetic feelings had no place in business dealings, but he had to admit to having some. The Kelsey he remembered was a nice girl, almost too good, if talk among the guys was to be trusted. But hiring a nanny who could also homeschool his daughter in the manner he considered best was business. Purely business. If Kelsey had those qualifications—and she did—those were the only things that mattered. However, her attitude toward child-rearing was far different than his. He knew what was best for his daughter and if he hired Kelsey, she’d have to do things his way.

But he didn’t want to hire her. She was pregnant. And a little too bossy. Nope, no way. No deal.

Then why couldn’t he get past the lines of tension around her soft mouth or the worry in those stunning eyes? Why did he keep sitting here beside her, listening to the soft drawl in her voice and wondering what it would be like to have her in his employ, in his house?

“What about your family?” Surely, she was returning to Dallas to be with caring family members. Someone who could keep a close eye on her until the baby came.

Pink tinged the crest of her cheekbones. Any makeup she might have worn was long gone by now, and a smattering of freckles popped through the clear, lovely skin. The color of her hair, the fascinating freckles were like sprinkles of colored sugar on a bowl of cream.

Good lord, when had he become a poet? He really was too tired.

“My dad and stepmother still live in Dallas,” Kelsey was saying, a little too stiffly. “But I’m not a charity case. I do not want to live off them or anyone else. I earn my way.”

Ryan realized he had insulted her somehow.