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      About the Author

      TERESA SOUTHWICK lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Mills & Boon.

      Marrying the Virgin Nanny

      By

      To Charles Griemsman, who is simply a joy to work with. You’re the best!

      Dear Reader,

      I love kids. From the time I was a little girl, if someone in the neighborhood had a baby I was glued to their side. I’m the middle child of six and helped with the younger ones, who were almost as big as me. These days, my definition of family isn’t just those with whom I share DNA, it includes the people who touch my heart and become part of my life.

      Maggie Shepherd, the heroine of Marrying the Virgin Nanny, was abandoned as a baby at the Good Shepherd Home for Children. The nuns and kids there became her family and she’d do anything to protect them, including marrying Jason Garrett, the wealthy boss who makes her an offer she can’t refuse.

      Jason has his own family problems. He needs a nanny and is dealing with a controlling father who keeps getting marriage wrong. When Jason meets Maggie, he’d do anything to make sure she’s there for his infant son—anything except fall in love.

      For me, the only thing better than holding a baby is writing about one, especially the littlest matchmaker who brings Jason and Maggie together. I hope you enjoy their story and look for the next two books in THE NANNY NETWORK series.

      Happy reading!

       Teresa Southwick

      Chapter One

      Margaret Mary Shepherd had never been the sort of woman men undressed with their eyes.

      But if Maggie had to pick someone for that particular job based solely on looks, Jason Garrett would be right at the top of her list. Dark curly hair and eyes the color of coal complemented the brooding look he no doubt used from the boardroom to the bedroom.

      Standing in the doorway of his penthouse condo just off the Las Vegas Strip, Maggie listened to the wail of an infant and knew the exact moment the decibel level went up. The man winced, an expression that was perilously close to panic and put him on the fast track to fear. It also told her that what she looked like underneath her crisp denim jeans and blue turtleneck sweater wasn’t even on his priority list.

      “I very much hope that you’re Ms. Shepherd from The Nanny Network,” he said.

      “I am.”

      “Thank God.” He opened the door wider for her to enter. “Ginger Davis promised that you would be here within the hour.”

      “She said it was an emergency, Mr. Garrett.”

      He ran his fingers through his hair and from the looks of it, that wasn’t the first time. Quite a tall man, he forced her to look up. His wrinkled white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up and recklessly loosened striped tie only added to his potent masculinity.

      “I need a nanny,” he said. Desperate need, judging by the ragged expression on his face. “Ginger assured me that infants are your specialty—”

      An enraged, tiny-baby wail came from somewhere nearby. “Right on cue. That must be yours.”

      “My son, yes.”

      “I’ll just go—”

      “Wait.” He glanced in the direction of the cry. “According to your employer you are the very best at what you do, but I’d like some confirmation.”

      The baby’s distress was making Maggie want to tell him what he could do with his confirmation. “Isn’t that why you contacted The Nanny Network? The agency has made its reputation by conducting thorough personnel background and qualification checks. Peace of mind is part of the service.”

      “I haven’t had a chance to check out Ginger Davis and The Nanny Network the way I’d like. But I’m not hiring ‘Ginger and Company.’ You’re the one who will be taking care of my son. The circumstances I find myself in—”

      “What is your situation, Mr. Garrett?”

      “I’ve had three nannies since my son was born and he’s only a month old, born December eleventh. I need someone to care for him, someone I can trust.”

      The cry increased in pitch and urgency and Maggie couldn’t stand it.

      “Look, Mr. Garrett, I’m not sure what your problem is that makes it a challenge for you to keep a nanny, but the job interview can wait.” She turned in the direction of the crying.

      “Hold on a second—”

      “Not while that baby is upset.”

      As she hurried down the hall with the man hot on her heels, Maggie’s impression of his home was understated sophistication and simple elegance that probably cost a bundle. The guy was loaded, some kind of genius developer sensation. And what did any of that matter to the tiny infant who was clearly distressed about something?

      She found the nursery and hurried over to the crib. The infant was on his back, thank goodness. His little face was red and the desperate cry was constant, high pitched. His hands and feet were going a mile a minute and his little mouth quivered in the way babies did that could just break your heart.

      Without hesitation, she reached in and scooped him into her arms. “Oh my goodness, sweetheart,” she cooed. She lifted him against her chest and rubbed his back, making him feel as secure as possible. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

      She pressed him close and gently swayed, the movement coming automatically. When he’d calmed enough, she settled him into the bend of her elbow, then took his tiny hand in hers and brushed his palm with her thumb. The intensity of the cries diminished until the sound was more like a cat’s meow, one that was telling her off big time for letting the situation deteriorate to such a low.

      “I know, sweetheart. You’re absolutely right. The conditions here are deplorable and completely intolerable. But things are looking up.” She glanced at Jason Garrett who was watching her through narrowed eyes.

      “I wasn’t finished talking to you.” He wasn’t accustomed to losing control of a situation.

      “I was finished talking to you until this little one is sufficiently reassured that his needs will be met.” She cuddled the child close. Smiling down she asked, “What’s his name?”

      “Brady.” He moved close. “Brady Hunter Garrett.” Tentatively brushing a finger over the downy dark fuzz on the child’s head, he smiled.

      Maggie’s stomach quivered and pitched. He’d been all brooding darkness until he looked at his son. It was an expression so tender and loving her heart quivered and pitched, too.

      “It’s a good, strong name.” She continued to caress the tiny palm as she said, “It’s