The Billionaire's Nanny. Melissa McClone

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The Billionaire's Nanny - Melissa  McClone


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annoyed him. So did the tingle racing down his arm from where she’d touched him. “Forest and water, Emma. Please. Don’t get all rose-tinted on me, okay? This is Hicksville and being here held me back, badly. I never would have amounted to anything if I’d stayed in Haley’s Bay. This place was suffocating.”

      The words rushed from his mouth before he could stop them. He’d never said these thoughts before. Weird. He was more careful and reserved around strangers. Around people he knew, too.

      She tilted her head, attention fixed on him. Her focus unsettled him. He was used to being deferred to. Most bosses were. Emma must not have gotten the memo.

      Of course she hadn’t. She consulted with parents and left when they didn’t agree. A free agent unused to following the chain of command. Like him when he’d started his business. How unexpected.

      “What?” he asked finally.

      “You...” She pursed her lips, full and unglossed.

      He prepared for a lecture. Wanted to hear what she had to say if she didn’t drag on for more than a minute or so.

      “...couldn’t have done a better job at getting away and making something of yourself.”

      The praise filled him with unexpected warmth. Most people complimented him, but AJ never knew if they meant the words or were trying to suck up to him. Emma didn’t seem to be the kind of person to belong in that second group. “Thanks. There’s more—”

      She nodded to him, as if encouraging him to continue. “More what?”

      Damn. AJ balled one of his hands. He didn’t know why he kept telling Emma things. He didn’t let his guard down around anyone, friend or employee. Fresh-smelling hair and pretty smile aside.

      “More I want to do. Places to visit.” Not what he intended to say, but the words were true and the perfect way to change the subject. “Are there places you’d like to travel?”

      “Anywhere.”

      “In the world?”

      She nodded. “The farthest from Portland I’ve been is Puerto Vallarta. It’s hard to get around the flying.”

      “You flew today.”

      “To help Libby.” Emma’s gaze returned to the view out the window. The limousine followed the road along the bay toward his grandmother’s house. “I should have suggested driving myself and meeting you here, but I was so worried about Libby I wasn’t thinking straight.”

      He knew the feeling being with Emma. “When it’s time for you to return to Portland, my driver will take you home.”

      She glanced around the limousine, taking in the multiple screens, leather seats, bar. “This is your, um, car.”

      AJ nodded. “Charlie drove down from Seattle this morning. I never intended on flying to Haley’s Bay, but I didn’t want to leave Libby alone in New York. She’s too valuable to me. If I’d known she hadn’t been feeling well before we’d left on the trip, I never would have taken her along, but she hid her abdominal pains until they became acute. I waited for her mother to arrive, made sure she was settled and comfortable, then flew here with a couple stops along the way.”

      “Oh.”

      The surprise in the one word spoke volumes. Emma Markwell had thought the worst of him. She wasn’t the only one, especially here in Haley’s Bay. “You assumed I left Libby in the hospital alone.”

      “Maybe.”

      “That means yes.”

      Emma stared up at him through her eyeglasses, her cheeks red and a contrite look on her face. “It’s nice to know you didn’t. Leave Libby, that is.”

      Not a full compliment, but better than being slammed for something he didn’t do. Still, he liked the idea of making Emma squirm since she’d done the same to him. “You’re backpedaling.”

      “Not really.”

      “I’m a nice guy.”

      Emma raised an arched brow. “Are you always nice?”

      Damn. “I try to be.”

      “Trying doesn’t always work.”

      “No, but I can tell myself I didn’t set out to be a jerk.”

      “Is this something you tell yourself often?” she teased.

      Her sense of humor had returned. She would need every funny bone with his family. “You’ll be able to answer that question on Sunday.”

      “That sounds like I should be worried.”

      “Maybe.”

      Emma laughed. “Guess I deserve that.”

      The limousine pulled to a stop. The engine turned off.

      AJ glanced to his right. His grandmother’s Victorian stood peacock-blue and proud across a lawn of manicured grass and blooming flower beds. His heart beat like a halyard on a mast. “We’re here.”

      “Wow. Your grandmother’s home is perfect. Even with the water right here, the house is what shines.”

      He recognized the awe in Emma’s voice. A familiar sense of reverence—of home—brought an unexpected smile to his face. “The house has been in our family for generations.”

      Emma’s eyes widened. “That’s a long time to stay in one place.”

      “Coles have lived in Haley’s Bay since the Civil War.”

      Her gaze bounced from the house to him. “The house isn’t that old.”

      “My great grandfather bought the house ninety years ago. He liked the view of the bay.”

      “Let me guess, he was a fisherman.”

      “And boat builder.”

      Emma looked over her shoulder at the bay. She took her time, allowed her gaze to absorb what she saw. “Lovely.”

      The dreamy haze in her eyes and a soft smile on her face made her lovely, too. He shook the thought from his head. “The view from the second floor is better. You can see the harbor.”

      Charlie opened the door.

      AJ motioned for Emma to go first.

      She slung her bag over her shoulder and clasped the plastic handle on the cat carrier. Moving toward the open door, she looked like she might topple out of the car. He didn’t need her to get hurt. One personal assistant in the hospital was enough.

      He took the carrier from her. “I’ve got the cat.”

      Her gaze met his then she looked away. “Thank you.”

      AJ followed her out and stood on the sidewalk. Vividly painted terra-cotta flowerpots full of colorful pink, purple and yellow blossoms sat on each step leading to the wraparound porch. His sister Bailey’s creations, he was sure, the sight comforting as his grandma’s crocheted afghans. He only hoped his dad wasn’t part of the welcoming committee.

      AJ gestured to the steps. “After you.”

      Halfway up, Emma stopped. “There’s a swing.”

      The breathless quality to her voice surprised him. He peered around her to see the white slotted-back, two-person bench hanging from thick silver chains. “Looks like my grandmother replaced her old swing. She used to love to drink tea out here and watch the boats. Guess she still does.”

      “We had a swing.” Emma took the last two stairs. “Boy, did we abuse that thing. My mom got so mad at us.”

      A bright, toothpaste-ad smile lit up her face.

      AJ’s chest tightened. Emma looked so lighthearted and happy. She should smile more.

      He joined her


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