A Nanny Under the Mistletoe: A Nanny Under the Mistletoe / Single Father, Surprise Prince!

Libby figured that was true enough for her, but he had no reason to dislike this sweet, innocent child who was right about him not coming home for dinner.

“He doesn’t really know us yet,” she said. “Give it time. This is new for him. He’s not used to us, but that will change. Everything will be all right. You’ll see.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart,” she said.

After a big hug and lots of kisses that made Morgan giggle, Libby turned on the world’s brightest night light. “Sweet dreams, love bug.”

“Okay,” Morgan answered sleepily as she rolled to her side.

With a full heart and troubled spirit Libby watched for several moments, then made up her mind to talk to Jess. It wasn’t long before she heard the front door open and close.

Imagine that. We have touchdown right after the kid is in bed. Morgan wasn’t the only observant resident of the penthouse. Apparently Jess was aware of her bedtime and how to avoid it and her.

Libby found him in the kitchen, where he was reaching into the refrigerator for a beer and the plate of food saved for him. The angle gave her a chance to admire his excellent butt. That thought was immediately replaced by a mental command for her hormones to back off.

“Hi, Jess.”

He straightened and turned to meet her gaze. “Hi.”

“How was your day?”

“Fine. Busy.” He shrugged. “You?”

“I just put Morgan to bed. You can go in and tell her good-night if you want. I don’t think she’s asleep yet.”

“That’s okay. It might upset her routine.”

Hers or his? she wondered.

“You must be hungry,” she said.

“Why?”

“Besides the plate of food in your hand?”

He glanced at it and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I missed dinner.”

“We noticed.”

“Oh?” He removed the plastic over the meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans, then set it in the microwave and pressed the reheat button.

“Yeah, what with your chair at the table being empty and all.”

He twisted the top off his beer and took a long swallow, then looked at her. “What’s on your mind, Libby?”

“Funny, that’s just what I said to Morgan when I tucked her in bed. I could tell there was something bothering her. She tends to share what’s on her mind at bedtime.”

“Do I need to know what it is?”

Of course, you nit, she wanted to say. Struggling for patience, she said, “You’re her guardian.”

“And I pay you to make sure she has everything she needs.”

She walked over to the granite-covered island and kept it between them as she met his gaze. “It’s also in my job description to make sure you’re aware of what’s going on with her emotionally. I thought you should know that she’s noticed you don’t come home for dinner.”

“I see.”

That’s all he could say? Libby rubbed her palms over the black-and-beige granite countertop, but the smooth coolness did little to ease the heat trickling through her. Heat that was part attraction and part annoyance. Just breathing the same air with him raised her pulse when she most needed calm rationality.

In her college speech class there had been discussion of techniques for calming nerves in public speaking. The one about picturing your audience naked came to mind, but with Jess in the same room that only throttled up her quivering nerve endings. Her best bet was to say what she had to and leave.

“Morgan thinks you don’t like her.”

“That’s ridiculous. She’s a kid. Of course I like her. How did she get an idea like that?”

“Besides the fact that you work really hard at not being around her?” Libby struggled to keep accusation from her tone.

“I’ll cop to the working hard, but it has nothing to do with avoiding her.”

“Really?”

“What’s this really about?” he asked.

Apparently she’d been unsuccessful in maintaining a neutral expression. She might as well say what had been on her mind.

“Was weather the real reason you couldn’t be at Ben and Charity’s memorial service? Or was it about dodging the hard stuff? The part where you’re Morgan’s guardian?”

Stark pain etched itself on his face and looked even darker for the scruff of beard that was three hours past his five o’clock shadow.

“I’ll admit to being grateful that weather grounded my plane. But it had nothing to do with the kid and everything to do with the fact that a memorial service meant facing the truth that my friend was gone and he wasn’t coming back.”

“If anyone knows how you feel, it’s me.” Missing Charity was still a raw and ragged wound inside her. She was probably the only person on the planet who knew exactly how Jess felt. And she sympathized with him. “I didn’t want to go either.”

He took another long drink of his beer and pulled the plate out of the microwave. “I’d have been there if weather hadn’t shut down the airport.”

She believed him and that realization made her feel all gooey inside. Under the circumstances that was the wrong way to feel.

“The fact is,” she said, “Ben and Charity made you Morgan’s guardian. The designation implies making an effort to be involved with her. Just like Ben would have been if he were here.”

A muscle jerked in Jess’s jaw as he stared her down. “Define involved.”

Libby tapped an index finger against her lips as she thought about the question. “Think of her as a resort development. Periodic reports from a project manager. That would be me. Intermittent on-site social interaction with said project. That would be—”

“Dinner?” he guessed.

“Go to the head of the class,” she said.