Falling For The Nanny: The Billionaire's Baby SOS / The Nanny Bombshell / The Nanny Who Kissed Her Boss

Claire shrugged. “Hard to say. But when a baby is falling asleep on your arm, you can’t really keep her awake.”

He set the roast on the stove. The delicious aroma floated over to Claire and her stomach growled. She set the table as he carved the roast. She got the salad from the refrigerator and put the mashed potatoes into the microwave for a quick reheat.

They sat down to eat as silent as they’d been while putting together their meal.

After a minute of quiet, Matt rose. He pressed a few buttons on the panel containing the intercom and video feed from the gate, and soft music filled the kitchen.

“No reason for us to be completely uncivilized,” he said as he returned to his seat.

“Right.” She sucked in a breath. Obviously, the quiet in the room got to him, too. But they’d made a promise not to talk about personal things, and neither one of them wanted to risk it. Of course, his job was probably a safe subject.

“Do you do a lot of traveling for your business?”

“Only because I want to. If you’re worried about me leaving Bella, I can arrange my schedule so I don’t have to.” He smiled. “People will come to me.”

She nodded, but the urge to tease him rose up in her, so strong and so natural, it nearly stole her breath. Since that kiss, they’d focused on Bella. Hadn’t teased. Hadn’t meandered into personal territory. And that had worked out very well. No yelling. No hurt feelings. She would not overstep those boundaries.

“Good point.”

“So what about you? Have they done okay without you at Dysart Adoptions this week?”

“Easily. Joni and I are basically the only two caseworkers, but with our receptionist we’re enough. We go through a lot of slow seasons. We’re in one now.”

“Me, too.” He dug into his mashed potatoes. “I love what I do, though.”

“What exactly do you do?”

“Buy and sell things. Stocks. Companies.”

Comfortable with their safe topic, they talked about his business dealings through the remainder of dinner. She learned he’d gotten his nickname “Iceman” because he could be totally heartless about firing upper management.

Which made her laugh. “Seriously. Who gets all upset about a guy being asked to leave a big corporation when he goes with a golden parachute?”

“You’re forgetting who gave me the nickname…Other CEOs. The very people I fire.” He frowned. “And we forgot dessert.” He glanced over at her. “We don’t have dessert.”

“You have pudding cups.”

“That’s right! I do.”

He walked to the refrigerator, pulled out two pudding cups and ambled back. “Vanilla or chocolate?”

“Chocolate.”

“Great. Vanilla’s actually my favorite.”

He handed her the pudding cup and took his seat again.

She peeled off the lid, took a bite and groaned in ecstasy. “These are great.”

“No point in having a secret vice if it isn’t great.”

She laughed. “I never thought of that.”

They finished their pudding and she automatically got up to clear the table. “You go make your calls or whatever you need to do.” The baby monitor had stayed silent. Bella was okay. And she could wash a few dishes.

But he shook his head. “I’m not going to leave you to clean up alone. You’re helping me enough.”

Warmth spiraled through her. She’d always known he appreciated her help, but it never hurt to hear the words.

After gathering the dishes, she walked them to the sink.

His eyebrows rose. “You’re not using the dishwasher?”

“For a couple dishes? We can have these done in five minutes. The dishwasher will take forty and tons more water.”

As she filled a sink, he found a dishtowel, slung it over his shoulder, then finished clearing the table.

When the sink was filled to capacity with dirty dishes and sparkling bubbles, she washed a plate, rinsed it and put it in the dish drainer. “Somebody must wash dishes in here. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be a drainer.”

“I think my cook prefers to wash the pots.”

She peeked at him through her peripheral vision. “Really?”

“She’s very fussy about her pots.”

“Makes sense, I guess. I don’t cook much.” She glanced at him again. “Not much reason to cook for one.”

“Unless you’re hungry.”

“I eat a big lunch.”

“Oh, so in other words if you ever got married and had someone to cook for, you’d start eating supper and get as round as Bella?”

She gaped at him. “Did you just call Bella fat?”

“She’s not fat. She’s healthy.”

Her eyebrow rose. “And I’m not?”

His mouth fell open. “I didn’t say that!”

She caught a handful of soap bubbles in her cupped hand and flung them at him. She’d intended to hit his T-shirt. Instead, she got his nose.

The expression on his face was priceless. But shock quickly morphed into challenge. “You wanna go?”

She eeked. “No! You’re the one who called me fat.”

“I called Bella fat and you unhealthy. According to you.” He reached down, scooped out some bubbles and flipped them into her face.