Regarding The Tycoon's Toddler.... Mary Wilson Anne
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talked quickly and breathlessly, and he had to really listen to follow what she was saying. Being found by this woman wouldn’t be all bad, he thought, but he didn’t have a clue why she’d be looking for him if it wasn’t for the pen. Unless she just wanted to tell him off even more. “If you’re here to tell me more about the shortcomings of the company, I—”
“Oh, no, of course not. It’s the child care,” she said as she came closer, stirring the air again.
Child care? Oh, it couldn’t be. She was a nanny? It seemed crazy, but in a way it made sense. She’d been coming for her interview with Rita when they ran into each other in the stairwell. Rita had cancelled.
He was stunned. She didn’t look like any nanny he’d ever had. “Child care,” he repeated as he watched her stop by the secretary’s desk.
She exhaled softly, obviously calming herself, then spoke in a breathy voice. “Children are so important, aren’t they.”
Yes, he could see her as a nanny. Young enough to do the job and obviously interested enough to come back this late on a Friday evening for another interview. He looked into those amber eyes and wondered if he’d literally run into the answer to his problems.
“Yes, very important.” He glanced at his watch, regretting that he didn’t have time to do the interview himself, and he just hoped that Rita was still around here somewhere. “It’s getting late and I need to get going. Let me make a call and see who’s still here.”
Lindsey knew he was going to push her off onto someone else. He might have agreed to start all over again, but he didn’t want to talk to her. The thing was, she wanted to talk to him. Matthew Terrel. Holden’s partner. Equal to Holden. Co-C.E.O. This man in front of her looked the equal of anyone. His expensive, pale-blue shirt hugging broad shoulders, a darker tie perfectly knotted. His dark gray jacket off and over one arm. A watch on his wrist that she could probably pawn and use to buy a new car.
The man was power. He certainly would do, since she’d missed the man she’d come to see. Yes, he’d do very nicely. But he was trying to get away. He put the briefcase on the desk, laid the pen on top, then reached for the phone on the secretary’s desk.
She spoke quickly. “Why don’t we just talk?”
He held the receiver in one hand and cast her a slanted look. “I have an engagement, and it is getting late. I don’t have the time.”
“Since I’m here and you’re here, and this is so important, why don’t we both just take a few minutes and talk? This isn’t something that can be put off much longer.”
He studied her narrowly, bringing back that uneasiness she’d first experienced in the stairwell. Abruptly he turned, punched in some numbers, listened, then hung up and turned to her with an exasperated rush of breath. “I guess you’re right. It’s just you and me.”
This wasn’t a good beginning, him begrudgingly agreeing to talk to her. But at least he hadn’t turned her away. “I think this is for the best. It actually saves time, instead of going through too many people. It gives everyone a clearer picture when it’s not diluted by too many renditions of the facts, don’t you think?”
He had the most annoying habit of pausing before he responded to her, and it made her nerves even more raw. The man would make a very effective bodyguard for Holden. He probably just made the people trying to get past him die from nervousness. She knew she was close to that herself. His eyes were narrowed, assessing, and for the first time she noticed a hint of gray at the temples of his rich brown hair.
She forced herself to move closer and hold out her hand to him. “I’m Lindsey,” she said simply, not about to make this any more formal than necessary. She didn’t need more barriers between them. “Just a few minutes, that’s all we’ll need. Not a lot of time. A brief meeting.”
He put the jacket over his shoulder, looping his finger in the collar, then took her hand in his. She’d known there was strength in his hands. She’d felt it when they’d kept her from falling in the stairwell. But she wasn’t prepared for a jolt of awareness when his hand closed over hers. Or the heat that radiated from him. Or the sudden dryness in her mouth at the contact.
“A few minutes,” he murmured.
She barely kept a sigh of relief from escaping as she eased her hand back. She needed to think clearly to make these few minutes count. And if she had contact with him, she just couldn’t think with any clarity. On some level she wouldn’t explore, the man was damn sexy. That was dangerous. Diverting. She didn’t need that. “Okay, let’s get right to the point,” she said, gripping her purse strap that was looped over her shoulder.
“We’ll have to talk on the way out,” he said.
“Sure, that’s fine,” she said, taking what she could get, but hoping for some miracle that would make the man stop long enough to listen to her and understand what she needed. “If that’s it, I’ll take it.”
For a flashing moment she was certain he was going to smile. And it was the same as it had been the first time she thought she’d caught that expression. She literally held her breath, bracing herself for it. But the expression never came to pass, the shadow flitting away.
“Well, I can walk and talk at the same time if you can,” he said.
“Sure, of course.” Nerves, that’s what it was. It was making her neck ache, and she eased her grip on the purse strap. Her hand was almost numb from clenching the leather. Nerves. And she only had a few minutes to do what she had to do. “Should I just start, then you can ask any questions you have?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” he murmured. He turned, flipped open his briefcase, dropped the pen into an inside pocket, closed the case and gripped it in his free hand. “Go ahead,” he said as he turned and strode past her toward the door.
She hurried after him, out into the corridor, walking quickly to keep up with his long stride. It really would take a miracle to make this man stop, even for a few minutes. Somehow she knew that this man was seldom still, that there was always an impatience to get on with things.
“As I see it—” she started quickly, double stepping to get closer to him “—it’s all about doing right by a child, giving the security that child needs, and giving that child attention in good surroundings. Making that child feel safe.”
She wasn’t sure he was even listening to her, until he spoke over his shoulder. “Okay, quality time and care. Sounds good to me.”
She was a bit taken back that he seemed to be agreeing. She saw a glimmer of hope. “Children are so precious, and they need to know that. I guess you could use that term ‘quality time,’ but I’m getting a bit sick of it. It’s used as an excuse to ignore the child for the rest of the time. But children need attention and reassurance and—”
She cut off her own words, when he unexpectedly stopped by the door to Zane Holden’s office complex, the empty offices she’d left moments ago. “Let’s go through here,” he said as he pushed the door open and went inside.
For a moment she thought Zane Holden might be around, that she could talk directly to him. But the offices were as empty as they had been earlier. She followed this man, who was like a human whirlwind, drawing everything in his path along with him. Including her. She crossed the conspicuously upscale den-like area and followed him through a door on the far side.
They were in a positively expansive room with walls of glass, a desk that looked as if it floated over a huge chunk of marble and metal, and pictures everywhere. But these were pictures of buildings, of partially completely blueprints. There were two solid walls, and she didn’t have a clue how they could “go through” here and get anywhere. But Terrel didn’t stop. He tossed his jacket on a very messy desk, reached for some papers, put them in his briefcase. He slipped on the jacket and tugged at his cuffs as he looked at her.
“Is it time for questions?” he asked.
“Excuse