Nanny for the Millionaire's Twins

“There’s someplace I like to go twice a week.”

His eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

She settled Sam on her lap and he happily gurgled up at her. “Just a girl thing.”

He studied her face for a few seconds, then said, “Honestly, Tory, I’ve never employed a nanny and I don’t remember the nanny my mom says cared for me, but I do know that everybody’s entitled to a day off every now and again. So if you want two days, you just tell me which two days and I’ll make do.”

“I hate to ask because I know this job is only temporary. A few days or weeks—”

Cindy started to fuss and Chance said, “Hold that thought,” as he rose from his chair. “How long has it been since their last bottle?”

She rose too. “Actually, it’s nap time.”

He turned. “It is?”

“Yes. I decided this morning that we should try to put them on a schedule.” She winced. “I probably should have run that by you.”

“No. That’s fine. You know more about babies than I do. I want you to change whatever needs changing.”

“Good.” She headed for the kitchen, got two bottles and followed him into the nursery.

“They’re drinking them cold?”

“I tested that this morning too. They didn’t seem to mind cold milk. It saves a step in all the processes. Plus, it makes it easier if you’re somewhere that you can’t heat the bottles.”

“Okay.”

They sat on the rockers in the nursery and fed the babies enough milk to put them to sleep, then gently laid them down for their naps and tiptoed out of the nursery.

For the first time since their little argument the day before, she and Chance were alone. Unsure of what to do, she stopped on the edge of the great room, the big open space that basically included the kitchen, the TV area and even the little reading cove. The only place to “hide” was her room. Or she could go outside. But they hadn’t finished their conversation about her days off.

He ambled into the kitchen. “Do we have any soda?”

“I think that’s the one thing your mom forgot to stock.”

“I’ll call Cook.” Retrieving a bottle of juice, he stepped away from the refrigerator. “She’s the shopper for both houses.”

She smiled. “That’s good.” She supposed. Her parents were blue-collar. She’d never run a home. She had no clue how the house of a rich family ran. God, suddenly she felt incredibly inadequate, unworldly.

He popped the top on the juice and plopped down on the recliner. In a white shirt, with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, he looked sexily rumpled, the way a husband would when he came home to his wife.

Oh, boy. Where had that come from?

But she knew where it came from. She was attracted to him. Not just because he was good-looking but because he was the daddy of babies she adored. That was wrong on so many levels, she wanted to run, but knew she couldn’t. Not only did she have to get adjusted to living with him, but also she had to get her days off locked in so she could go and see her fiancé. And then maybe she’d stop looking at Chance as if she were allowed.

“So two days off will be good?”

He chugged half his bottle of juice, then said, “You pick the days.”

“Okay. Give me some time to think about which days I want and I’ll let you know.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

The room got quiet again.

She glanced around.

Now what? She wanted to run again, but really, she would be living with this guy for at least two weeks. Maybe even a month. If she didn’t get herself accustomed to being in his company, she’d always be slightly on edge around him, like a silly schoolgirl. It seemed wise to try to get them both accustomed to being around each other. And if a little conversation would do it, then she’d converse.

She cleared her throat. “So how’d things go with your brother?”

“Same old. Same old. He wants me to come work for Montgomery Development.”

Relief skittered through her. He hadn’t thought it odd she’d asked him a question, and she really was interested in what was going on with him. Had to be. What went on in his life affected what went on in hers.

She inched her way over to the sofa. “You don’t want to work for Montgomery Development?”

“I already own my own company, remember? I don’t need a job.”

She stifled the urge to gape at him. What would that be like? To be so lucky in life that you didn’t need a job? She slid a little closer to the couch. “You said you have a manager running your company now.”

“Uh-huh. Max thinks I should just let him keep running it so I could help him with Montgomery Development.” He winced. “As president.”

She fell to the sofa. That went beyond lucky. “President?”

“He’s CEO and Chairman of the Board. Technically, he’d still be my boss.”

“Wow.”

“It is a great company.” His face grew thoughtful. “It was a crappy company when I left. My dad was a scoundrel. He nickel and dimed everybody. Out-and-out cheated others.” He snorted a laugh. “I wouldn’t have worked there on a lost bet while he was alive, but in the past years my brother changed things. The company’s more than reputable. And growing. Some of the things Max is into are mind-boggling. I think I’d like to be part of that.”

She frowned. “So you’d stay?”

He grimaced. “I think I’m talking myself into it. I know my mother wants me to stay. I know she wants to be part of the twins’ lives. And I hurt her enough by leaving when I was eighteen and staying away that I feel I owe her that.”

“That’s very nice.”

He shrugged and wouldn’t look at her. “But that means the nanny job could be yours permanently … if you want it.”

Her breath caught. It was only her second day of work, but she already liked it here. She had the run of the house when he was away, and if he worked he’d be away all day. And she had two adorable babies to play with to fill the aching hole in her heart that she didn’t even realize she had until she held them.

And Chance himself was kinda nice. Easy to talk to. For years, she hadn’t spoken with anyone beyond therapists and nurses and her parents—and Jason, who didn’t reply.

The only problem was her attraction—but surely she could keep that under control. After all, she had a fiancé. A fiancé she’d visit twice a week, now that Chance had agreed to two days off.

She licked her lips. “It would mean I’d have to take my days off on Saturdays or Sundays.”