tracked part of the flower bed across the carpet. Evidently, they had been barefoot and in their pyjamas when they had decided to take their housekeeper’s car for a spin.
It must have terrified Alex when he’d heard about the accident. It could have turned out so much worse. As it was, the damage wasn’t serious—the tow truck that he’d called had already extracted the car from the flower bed and had hauled it away to the body shop. The lawn and the rosebushes could be patched up easily enough. But it didn’t look as if Alex’s housekeeper was going to retract her threat to quit. From the sound of things, Mrs. Gray was still intent on leaving…as soon as she cleaned the worms out of her suitcase.
Despite the gravity of the situation, Lizzie couldn’t prevent the grin that tugged at the corners of her mouth. Worms. Had they been squiggly little earthworms or the big slimy nightcrawlers? Well, that was one advantage of living in the city. At least the twins didn’t have ready access to snakes and frogs.
Those boys were something else. A real pair of charmers, just like their father. Neither of them was big enough to see over the steering wheel of Mrs. Gray’s brown sedan, but they hadn’t let that stop them. They weren’t even five years old, but they’d had the ingenuity and resourcefulness to figure out how to drive a car. Obviously, when they set their minds to doing something, they didn’t let anything stand in their way. Did they get that determination from their father, too?
Probably. When it came to his business, he could be pretty single-minded about what he wanted. Was he the same way when it came to…other things? What was he like when he wanted a woman? How would it feel to be the object of such unwavering purpose?
Lizzie’s smile faded. Couldn’t she stop dwelling on that for more than a minute? She should be ashamed of herself for continuing to lust after Alex under circumstances like these.
He wasn’t any prince out of a fairy tale. He was worse. He was a real man with real children. And the emotion she’d seen on his face when he’d held his sons was so real it brought a lump to her throat even now.
What other emotions did he keep locked away behind his charming image? What would it be like to have the power of those emotions directed at her?
Was he as passionate a lover as he was a father?
Muffling a groan, she put her head in her hands. Coming home with him had been a mistake. She’d been finding Alex irresistible enough already, but now that she’d seen him with his children, she was, as the twins so nicely put it, a goner.
Chimes echoed from the hall. Lizzie lifted her head and twisted around just as Mrs. Gray marched past the doorway, a bulging flight bag in one hand, her cat cradled to her chest with the other. Voices rose from the direction of the foyer.
Lizzie hesitated for only a moment before pushing to her feet and moving toward the commotion. The front door stood ajar. Light spilled past the pillars that flanked the entrance onto the curving driveway where an old Chevy idled just to one side of Alex’s dark green sports car. A woman with hair the color of mouse fur helped Mrs. Gray put her bag in the trunk of the Chevy, then got behind the wheel. Without looking back, Mrs. Gray slid into the passenger seat and closed the door with an indignant thump. Seconds later, the car pulled away.
“Well, that’s it then.”
At the deep voice, Lizzie jumped. She hadn’t heard Alex approach—for a large man, he could move surprisingly quietly. She glanced over her shoulder. “What?”
He walked over to close the door. “Mrs. Gray went to stay with her sister.”
“I guess that means she actually did quit?”
“Yes. I’ll have the rest of her things sent to her. She didn’t want to use her suitcase.”
The suitcase. Lizzie pressed her lips together to keep her smile to herself. She was sure Mrs. Gray hadn’t seen much humor in those worms. And it didn’t seem as if Alex had, either.
Sympathy coursed through her as she took in his appearance. Poor Alex. He looked more like a harried father than a suave businessman. He’d discarded his jacket and loosened his tie. The top button of his shirt was undone and his hair was rumpled into uneven furrows, as if he’d been raking his fingers through it.
Yet to Lizzie’s eyes, he didn’t look disheveled, he looked adorable. And he also looked more…approachable than he ever had before.
“I’m sorry to have left you on your own for so long like this, Lizzie,” he said, coming over to stand in front of her.
“That’s okay. Are the boys in bed?”
“As far as I know. They appeared to be asleep when I left them.”
“I’m sure they’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
“I hope so,” he muttered.
“They’re all right now, aren’t they?”
“They weren’t hurt. Thank God the car wasn’t going fast.”
She tilted her head, noticing the fine lines that radiated from the corners of his eyes and the tension that tightened his jaw. “What about you?” she asked.
“Me?”
She dropped her gaze. Beneath the fine cotton of his white shirt, his shoulders were stiff with the same tension she saw in his face. “I’ve been through my share of accidents with the children at my day care,” she said. “Mishaps like swallowed buttons or bumps from swings, and it’s been my experience that kids are a lot more resilient than their parents.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “It’s Jason and Daniel I’m concerned about.”
“Of course, you’re concerned.”
“They had no idea how dangerous their latest stunt could have been.”
“I’m sure they didn’t.”
“I still don’t understand how Mrs. Gray could have been so negligent as to let this happen.”
“It isn’t easy to keep track of two active boys, especially a pair who are as resourceful as your twins,” she said, although she didn’t know why she would be trying to make excuses for his housekeeper. The woman had looked like a humorless disciplinarian.
“The job should be simple enough,” Alex said. “I’ll have to make sure the next person I hire is more capable.”
Lizzie ignored the twinge of irritation she felt at his dismissive tone. He didn’t really think that taking care of children was simple, did he? He seemed too intelligent to make a dumb statement like that—it must be his lingering anxiety over the twins’ close call. “They seem like great kids,” she said.
“They’re the reason for everything I do,” he said softly, seeming to talk more to himself than to her. As if realizing his lapse, he cleared his throat and attempted a smile. “I’m afraid we missed the curtain.”
“What curtain?”
“The play I promised you.”
She couldn’t very well tell him that she’d found this glimpse into his home and his emotions much
