Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me: Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me. Teresa Southwick

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Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me: Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me - Teresa  Southwick


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needs come before yours.”

      “Not when my need is to make sure he’s safe,” Garrett snapped.

      “It’s easy to see why you go through nannies like napkins at a car wash.”

      “I don’t have to explain myself to you. I’m the employer; you’re the employee.”

      “Not yet. If you can interview me, I should be extended the same courtesy to decide whether or not I want to work for you.”

      “Do you screen all potential employers?”

      “This is the first time.”

      Maggie wasn’t sure why she was doing it now except something was weird here. Her specialty was infants from birth to six weeks. Go in, stabilize the situation, so new mom could get her sea legs and some rest, get out before she, Maggie, fell in love with the child and couldn’t leave without breaking her heart. Ginger Davis, owner of The Nanny Network, had always placed her in work situations with couples—husband and wife or man and woman living together in a committed relationship. Always she’d met the infant’s mother first. Not this time.

      “Where’s Mrs. Garrett?” she asked.

      “I’m not married.”

      “But Brady has a mom.”

      He frowned and his perpetual dark look grew positively black. “The woman who gave birth to him is not going to be a part of his life.”

      Was that his way of saying she’d passed away? If only there’d been time for Ginger to fully brief her on this position.

      “Is she—I mean, was there a medical problem?”

      “Nothing like that. All you need to know is that she won’t be an issue.” And the scowl on his face put an end to further questions on the subject.

      She had news for him. A mother who disappeared from your life could be an even bigger issue. Maggie knew from firsthand experience.

      “Now, if it’s all right with you,” he continued, “I have a few questions.”

      “I’m an open book,” she said.

      “May I see your references?”

      “I didn’t bring anything with me.”

      “Then you’re the first who’s arrived without them.”

      “I’m between assignments, Mr. Garrett, and was expecting to have several weeks off. Ginger said this was an emergency and I should come right away. She promised to messenger over whatever paperwork was required.”

      “I require it before you interact with my son.”

      “Then we have a problem.”

      She stared at the little boy in her arms who was sucking on his little fist and staring up at her with his father’s dark eyes. There was a funny sort of tightness in her chest just before she felt a powerful tug on her heart. He was a beautiful child, but that wasn’t a surprise because his father was an incredibly handsome man.

      This was a first, too. She normally felt nothing but the general nurturing instincts that babies always generated in her. This was different. Because there was no mother in the picture? Because she was one of a long line of nannies in his short little life? Because Jason Garrett clearly needed her? Or was it the man himself?

      He was as compelling as any Gothic romance hero she’d ever read. He was Mr. Darcy, Heathcliff and Edward Rochester all rolled into one tall, muscular, attractive and dashing package.

      She would be the first to admit that her hormones hadn’t been out for a test drive in quite a while. But they were making up for lost time in a big way now. This father-son duo packed a powerful punch in the few minutes she’d been here. How much damage could they do if given half a chance? It was a disaster in the making.

      “I don’t think I can work for you, Mr. Garrett.” She shifted the baby into his arms and the way he instantly stiffened told her he wasn’t used to this.

      She refused to let her sympathy cloud her better judgment and walked out of the room.

      “Ms. Shepherd—” He caught up with her in the foyer. “Wait—”

      Bracing herself, she turned to face him but could only raise her gaze to the collar of his shirt. “There’s no point in wasting any more of your time.”

      “It’s my time and I’m asking for just a few more minutes of yours.”

      “I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”

      “That’s where you’re wrong.”

      “I’m wrong?” she said, taking her purse from the table and sliding the strap over her shoulder.

      The baby started to whimper and flail his fists and the just-this-side-of-panic look was back in his father’s eyes. “Okay. Maybe I’ve been a little hasty in judgment. But look at it from my perspective.”

      “And what is that?”

      It was a mistake to ask, but that wasn’t her first one. Going soft when he all but admitted he was wrong was the number one slip-up.

      “Nanny number one couldn’t soothe him, and made some excuse about why it’s all right to let babies cry during the night. When my son cries it’s because he needs tending to and I’m in favor of feeding on demand as opposed to making him wait for a scheduled time.”

      “I agree.” To her way of thinking babies always had a reason for crying and should not be ignored. The child came first. Period. The caretaker was always on call. “What happened to nanny number two?”

      “A family emergency.” He glanced at his son, a fiercely protective look. “Something I understand all too well.”

      She’d never had a family, at least not a traditional one. “That’s not her fault.”

      “No, but now it’s my problem. And I have to ask—you walked in and had him quiet in thirty seconds flat—how did you do that?”

      She shrugged. “I’m good at what I do, Mr. Garrett.”

      “I couldn’t say about babies in general,” he said, a smile cutting through his uncompromising expression. The transformation was amazing. “But I saw for myself that with my son you’re very skilled.”

      She wasn’t the only one. Her skill was infants, his was flattery. At first he’d kept it securely under wraps, along with his seriously compelling charm. Now that he needed them, he pulled out both and set them on stun. “Brady is a beautiful child.”

      “He’s more than that, Ms. Shepherd—”

      “Maggie.”

      He nodded. “He’s my son, Maggie. I’m a demanding boss. I’ll admit that. And I don’t know a lot about babies. I’ll admit that, too. But most important for you to know is that I’m a protective father. It seems to me that when caring for a child there are some basic nonnegotiable principles.”

      “Such as?”

      “Doing your job. When I arrived home from the office unexpectedly, I found nanny number three on the balcony with a glass of wine and Brady in his crib crying.”

      Maggie was shocked. “That’s horrific.”

      “I thought so, too, and fired her on the spot.”

      “Good for you.”

      “So, you see, I find myself in a situation. I have a business to run.”

      “I’ve heard of it. Garrett Industries is developing that huge project just off the 15 freeway, the one monopolizing all the construction cranes in the Southwest.” When he grinned again, her chest felt funny even before her pulse fluttered.

      “There’s nothing


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