Chapter One

      “I’m not looking for a wife.”

      “Thank you for clarifying, because that’s not the box I checked on the nanny application.”

      Justin Flint, M.D., stared at the young woman sitting across the desk from him, liking the fact that Emma Robbins had a sharp, sassy sense of humor. On the other hand, that didn’t change the fact that his comment was out of line.

      It was just possible he was trying to discourage her because she was too pretty. He was a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon and had relocated to Blackwater Lake, Montana, to give his almost one-year-old son a normal life. That didn’t include being taken in again by a pretty face, but saying so out loud would be too weird.

      “I’m sorry.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “This is going to sound egotistical, but women applying for the nanny job have been coming on to me. That’s not the qualification I’m looking for in the person who’s going to take care of Kyle.”

      “You’re right. That does sound egotistical.” She smiled and, if possible, was even more beautiful. “It also makes you a concerned father, which I can respect. But let me assure you, I’m not the least bit interested in anything but a job.”

      “Good.” It was good but still took his ego down a peg or two. “Okay. Let’s take it from the top. This interview didn’t start off very well. My fault entirely. And I assure you that normally I behave in a completely professional way with my employees.”

      “I’d expect nothing less. But I can see why women flirt with you. It just has to be said that I’m not one of them.”

      If he were still in Beverly Hills, an agency would vet all nanny candidates, but in this small town things were different. Advertisements in the local paper and recommendations from the employees here at Mercy Medical Clinic, in addition to those of the mayor and town council, had generated half a dozen prospects. Unfortunately, the first four had clearly been more interested in batting their eyeslashes and giving him a look at their cleavage.

      “All right, then.” He browsed through the paperwork. “So, Miss Robbins, you’re from California.” That was the address she’d listed.

      “Yes, Studio City. It’s in the San Fernando Valley north of Los Angeles.”

      “Blackwater Lake is a long way from there.”

      She smiled. “I can see that.”

      He knew the Southern California neighborhood and it wasn’t far from the entertainment capital of the world. With a face like hers, she could be a starlet and he’d stake his professional reputation on the fact that she’d had no work done. The flawless skin and stunning features were nothing more than excellent genes.

      Emma Robbins looked as if she belonged on a movie screen. Long, shiny brown hair streaked with gold fell past her shoulders. Her eyes were brown and framed by thick lashes. But it was her mouth that mesmerized him—full, sculpted lips made for kissing, and he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from them. That thought definitely hadn’t been vetted by his common sense.

      “So, what brought you to Montana, Miss Robbins?”

      “Vacation.”

      “Have you ever been here before?”

      “No.”

      “What made you decide to come here? As opposed to, say, Hawaii?” He would bet she’d turn heads in a bikini. Although right now she looked like a preppy college girl with a white collar sticking up from the neckline of her navy pullover. Tailored jeans and loafers completed the look. “I’m just trying to get to know you.”

      Was it his imagination or did she not quite look him in the eyes?

      “This will sound corny, but one of my favorite books was set in Montana. I was between jobs and did some research. This town was advertised as the new and unspoiled Vail or Aspen. I wanted to check it out.”

      “So, what do you think?” he asked.

      “Words can’t describe how beautiful it is here,” she said sincerely.

      That didn’t answer the question about whether or not she wanted to stay. “I need to be honest with you about my situation.”

      “I would appreciate that, Dr. Flint.” The tone was firm, almost abrasively