The Millionaire's Nanny Arrangement. Linda Goodnight
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That has to be a plus. I can do a good job for you and for Mariah.”
He could read through an applicant’s motives faster than gossip and Kelsey’s were nothing short of desperation.
Sympathetic feelings had no place in business dealings, but he had to admit to having some. The Kelsey he remembered was a nice girl, almost too good, if talk among the guys was to be trusted. But hiring a nanny who could also homeschool his daughter in the manner he considered best was business. Purely business. If Kelsey had those qualifications—and she did—those were the only things that mattered. However, her attitude toward child-rearing was far different than his. He knew what was best for his daughter and if he hired Kelsey, she’d have to do things his way.
But he didn’t want to hire her. She was pregnant. And a little too bossy. Nope, no way. No deal.
Then why couldn’t he get past the lines of tension around her soft mouth or the worry in those stunning eyes? Why did he keep sitting here beside her, listening to the soft drawl in her voice and wondering what it would be like to have her in his employ, in his house?
“What about your family?” Surely, she was returning to Dallas to be with caring family members. Someone who could keep a close eye on her until the baby came.
Pink tinged the crest of her cheekbones. Any makeup she might have worn was long gone by now, and a smattering of freckles popped through the clear, lovely skin. The color of her hair, the fascinating freckles were like sprinkles of colored sugar on a bowl of cream.
Good lord, when had he become a poet? He really was too tired.
“My dad and stepmother still live in Dallas,” Kelsey was saying, a little too stiffly. “But I’m not a charity case. I do not want to live off them or anyone else. I earn my way.”
Ryan realized he had insulted her somehow.
But in doing so, he’d discovered something important. For whatever reasons, Kelsey was down on her luck but she had a lot of pride. He’d been there, done that. Could completely relate. So much so that he admired the thrust of her chin and the glitter of pride in her eyes. She was stubborn, opinionated and pregnant. But she was also smart and qualified and someone he knew.
Mariah was right. They did need Kelsey Slater, boy hater. He’d interviewed half a dozen women already, but none that suited. On the other hand, none were pregnant former classmates who attracted him either. Everything in that sentence, other than the former classmate part, was not in Kelsey’s favor.
Still, he needed to concentrate on his work, especially right now with the Toliver takeover on the horizon. Something about Kelsey annoyed and worried him as much as it attracted him—but maybe that could actually work to his advantage. He was gone sixteen hours a day or more anyway. No need to even see her or her pretty mouth or pregnant belly.
He shivered at the last thought. That was the deal breaker right there.
But his schedule next week was now doubled due to this airport delay. Given his aversion to day-care centers, he needed someone reliable—and fast.
If not for the pregnancy, Kelsey Slater, boy hater could fill the bill very well.
In high school, she’d been friendly to him even though he’d never run in her social circle. Truth was, his social circle had been on the outer edges, the group of boys and girls just shy of trouble. He’d been their leader, though most of his after-hours were spent working and trying to keep his family afloat. With a father who wandered in and out of his life at odd intervals, the role of man of the house had fallen to him most of the time. He’d worked his butt off, too, all the while plotting his way out.
His jaw tightened. He’d made it. With the sweat of his brow, unholy hours and a few unholy alliances he wasn’t particularly proud of, he’d scratched his way to the top. By all that was good and right, he was going to stay there. Mariah would never know what it was like to come from the bottom of the barrel.
To keep his relentless work pace, he needed someone reliable to care for his daughter. He flicked another glance at the familiar woman with the blue-green eyes.
In his world, those who hesitated were lost. Deals could make or break on five minutes of indecision. He was known to make decisions quickly on gut instinct. So he swallowed down the last inner scream of protest and made one.
“You’re hired.”
Kelsey couldn’t believe her ears. A gift horse had arrived upon the scene, literally falling from the sky. Did this mean the fickle finger of fate had decided to smile on her for a change?
“But I can’t be.”
Annoyance flashed on chiseled features. “Are we going to have this argument again?”
“Don’t you want references? Shouldn’t we discuss expectations and duties, days off and salary? You could be hiring a serial killer to care for your daughter.” Shut up, Kelsey. Shut up!
Ryan raised a finger in silent command. Thank goodness. “You aren’t a stranger. You just told me you were totally trustworthy and I believe you. And I’m a very good judge of character, as is Mariah.”
Kelsey huffed. “Six-year-olds trust anyone with bubble gum or a puppy.”
No wonder lady luck enjoyed tormenting her. She made it so easy.
Mariah came to life, face alight. “Do you have a puppy?”
“No honey, I don’t.” Kelsey ran a hand down the child’s arm to soften the disappointment.
Mariah had just made her point. “See what I mean?” she said to Ryan.
“You cheated. Even I’m a sucker for puppies.”
She’d have to give him points for that. “But still, there are things to discuss.”
“We can evaluate references and execute a contract once we’re back in Dallas. If at that time the particulars don’t suit one of us, we can, as Mariah says, negotiate.”
And she knew who would come out on the short end of that stick. Her. Ryan had pulled himself out of poverty to multi-millionaire status. He hadn’t gotten to the top of the heap on those stunning looks alone.
“You need a job. I need a nanny. Let’s say a trial run. Thirty days. Deal or no deal?”
Who was she kidding? There was no way she could turn down his offer.
“Fine,” she said. In her desperate state, she should be kissing his feet in gratitude. For the past five months, she’d held herself together with pride and spunk and not much else. When the cars and the house, the boats and the business all went on the auction block to pay off debts left by her late husband, Kelsey had gone from being the Mercedes-driving wife of a successful yacht dealer to being pregnant, alone and dead broke.
She should be grateful instead of argumentative. But she hated feeling obligated and something about Ryan Storm irritated her. Rubbing at tired eyes, she fought back tears. Resentment and despair welled in her. The baby reacted to her distress and fluttered around like an oversized butterfly. She laid a hand to the mound beneath her heavy sweater.
As if she’d slapped him, Ryan jerked, riveting his attention on her stomach. “Are you okay?”
“Sure.” If she’d survived the last few months, she could survive being stranded in an airport.
Ryan swallowed. Kelsey wondered if the question had been deeper than a polite inquiry.
“Good. Good,” he said. “You don’t look fine. You look dead on your feet and stressed to the max.”
“Thanks.” Roadkill. She looked like roadkill.
“No insult meant.”
“None taken.” Yeah right.
“Mind if I ask what happened to your husband?”
The nightmare that had begun five months