Cara Colter – His to Command: the Nanny: A Nanny for Keeps (страница 9)
She didn’t even offer to try and find a replacement. Not that it mattered, because she’d promised Maisie that she’d stay.
‘And how long is that going to be?’
‘I don’t actually know. I told you, this was just a delivery job, but I’ll speak to Selina tomorrow. Until then, I’m in your hands, Jacqui.’
‘The giant is not going to like it,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t like company.’
‘Giant? This is the man you wouldn’t leave Maisie with? Are you going to be all right there? Maybe you should take Maisie to the nearest hotel until I can check him out with Selina.’
‘Maisie wants to stay even though she doesn’t like him, which suggests he’s grouchy rather than dangerous…’ Her voice petered out as she remembered his eyes, his hands, the touch of his shirt against her cheek and swallowed. There was dangerous, she thought. And then again there was dangerous…‘We’ll stay out of his way as much as possible while you sort something out with Selina.’
‘You’re a star, Jacqui. I’ll make sure your worth is reflected in the hourly rate.’
‘Oh, no, you don’t get me that way. I’m on holiday. I told you six months ago that I would never do this for money ever again and I meant it.’
‘But—’
‘But nothing. Just concentrate on getting hold of Selina Talbot and find out what in the world she was thinking, what she’s going to do about her daughter and, even more important, when she’s going to be home. In the meantime I have to go and break the good news to Harry Talbot that he has house guests.’
‘I owe you, Jacqui.’
Yes, you do, she thought as she clicked off the phone and looked up to find Maisie standing in the doorway, her face alight with joy as she held up a wriggling bundle of black Labrador puppy for her to see.
‘Look, Jacqui! He’s so cute!’
‘And beautiful,’ she said, crouching down beside the child and stroking his silky head with her finger. ‘You match.’ Her reward, as she let the puppy snuffle at her fingers, was to have Maisie lean trustingly against her. Her arm, of its own volition, reached out to encompass both child and puppy. ‘What’s his name?’
‘I don’t think he has one.’
‘Well, maybe you should give some thought to that,’ carefully unfurling her arm and standing up, to put a little distance between them. ‘But he’ll be missing his brothers and sisters.’ And there was no point in putting off giving Harry Talbot the bad news. ‘Meantime, I have to speak to Mr Talbot.’
‘He’s gone back down the cellar.’ She carried the pup back to the kitchen and placed him in a basket containing a number of wiggling look-alikes. ‘He’s fixing the boiler, I expect.’
‘Is he?’
‘It’s a waste of time. Grandma says it’s definitely on the blink. It’s why she…’ Maisie stopped.
‘Why what, Maisie?’
‘Why she’s going to buy a new one.’
‘Oh, right.’ But, grateful for this temporary reprieve, she said, ‘In that case perhaps we’d better not disturb him again. I’ll just go and fetch our things in from the car.’
‘You could drive round to the back to save carrying them. It’s what everyone else does.’ Then, looking up from the wriggle of puppies, ‘I thought I should tell you that in case you didn’t ask.’
‘Smart thinking, Maisie.’
‘You can put it in the coach house if you want.’
‘Maybe I’d better wait for an invitation from Harry, first.’ She’d see how he reacted to the fact that she’d moved in before she started getting really pushy and helping herself to garage space. ‘I won’t be a minute. Don’t move from that spot while I’m gone. And don’t touch anything.’ Then, as Maisie opened her mouth to protest, ‘Except the puppies.’
‘No, Jacqui.’
‘Promise.’
The child looked up and smiled, and in that instant Jacqui knew that her fate was sealed. She wasn’t going anywhere until Maisie had done with her.
‘I promise,’ she said.
Harry Talbot lifted his head as he heard the sound of a car starting, attempting to squash a lick of guilt as the throaty roar proclaimed only too loudly that its exhaust had suffered in the journey up the lane.
He’d promised his aunt he’d get it sorted while she was away. And he would. Just before she came home. The last thing he wanted was the neighbourhood dropping by, being neighbourly. He’d even persuaded the postman to leave the mail at the shop for collection.
Dammit, he had come here to avoid company. Be alone. Was it too much to ask?
He slammed the wrench into the side of the boiler and then slammed it down and headed for the stairs. If Jacqui Moore drove back down the lane with her exhaust bouncing around, there’d be nothing left of it when she got to the main road.
But by the time he’d reached the front door, there was no sign of her or her car.
He listened, but couldn’t hear the sound of her retreat either, which, despite the muffling effect of the mist, surprised him. He should have felt relief, but instead walked to the gate, half expecting to find her stopped a few yards down the lane.
No relief, just guilt. Tomorrow. He’d do something about it tomorrow. And in the meantime he’d call the garage in the village and have them look out for her and offer assistance.
One of the dogs—a lanky, cross-bred creature with pretensions to deer hound—joined him, in expectation of another run.
‘Forget it, mutt,’ he said, returning to the house, grabbing his collar to stop him taking a short cut through the front door. ‘Round the back with you. Susan will kill us both if we trail mud over her polished floor.’ He pulled it shut and then followed the dog around the back.
He came to an abrupt halt when he saw the VW pulled up in the courtyard. He should have realised it was too good to be true.
Jacqui Moore, alerted by the dog, who’d rushed over to her looking for a fuss, straightened from the back seat as if caught out in a guilty act. Forgetting, for a moment, that his intention had been to stop her, that he was intent on an errand of mercy, he said, ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
‘Would you mind not using that language in front of Maisie?’ she replied, passing the child a small white bag.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, moving closer, calling the dog to heel before both females were covered in mud, further delaying their departure. ‘I’ll rephrase the question. What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
Jacqui leaned into the car, ostensibly to pick up the matching white holdall, but in reality to gain breathing space.
She understood that Harry Talbot didn’t want them cluttering up his life. She understood and was sorry to be such an annoyance, but her first concern was Maisie. She hated confrontation as much as anyone, but since it was clear that she wasn’t being offered a choice, she might as well get it over with. The sooner he realised that she couldn’t be bullied, the sooner he’d stop.
‘Take your bag inside, Maisie, and stay in the warm,’ she said. And only then did she give her full attention to Harry Talbot. It wasn’t that difficult. The grey wool shirt hung loosely from his shoulders suggesting that he had, however impossible it seemed, actually lost weight and muscle. That he’d once been even broader than he was now. The washed thin denims he wore still clung to powerful thighs, however, and stretched over a hollowed stomach that only emphasised…
‘Well?’ he demanded, bringing her sharply back to reality.
She swallowed. ‘Well, Mr Talbot,’ she said, trying to erase the errant thoughts from her mind. ‘This is a car and this is a bag and what I’m doing is taking the latter out of the former.’
Sarcasm, Harry realised, had been a mistake.
He’d known it from the moment he’d opened his mouth. Regretted it the moment he’d opened his mouth. The fact that she was blonde, with curves in all the right places, didn’t make her dumb.
Despite a full lower lip that drooped enticingly and the kind of earthy sex appeal that sent out a siren call to man’s most basic instinct, she was still a nanny and nannies didn’t take nonsense from anyone. As if to confirm it, she gave him a look from grey eyes as cool as her mouth was hot, leaving him in no doubt that she wasn’t in the mood to take any from him.
‘Why?’ he demanded. It was a fair question.
‘Extraordinary,’ she replied, shaking her head, so that her misted hair swung in a soft invitation to touch. How long was it since he’d touched a woman’s hair…?
He curled his fingers tight against his palms, but she was already leaning back inside the car to pick up a second bag.
‘You don’t look stupid,’ she said, turning to him as she straightened.
He wasn’t about to debate it. He’d already had all the conversation he could handle.
‘You can’t stay here.’
She smiled. ‘There! I was right. You knew the answer all along.’
‘I mean it.’
‘That’s not what I…’ He stopped, suddenly aware of a yawning chasm opening in front of him. If he declared himself more than capable of looking after one small girl—this small girl above all others—she’d walk away and leave him to do just that.
He’d come to High Tops for solitude. Peace. To seek some kind of future for himself. She had to go and take the child with her. Now.