Leigh’s face warmed as his cobalt eyes lingered on her. The silk blouse she’d worn with the suit had always been a little snug. She’d forgotten that problem when she’d taken off her jacket. She scrambled to change the subject. “I still find it hard to believe you don’t have help in this big house—in addition to me, of course.”
“You mean like a butler and a chauffeur and a cook?” His eyes twinkled, an unexpected surprise. “You’ve been watching too many episodes of Masterpiece Theatre. A gaggle of servants hanging around would drive me crazy. I can load the dishwasher, answer my own doorbell and drive my own car. And I have a cleaning crew up from the lodge every Wednesday to keep the place looking shipshape. Believe me, I like my peace and quiet.”
She took a sip of wine and speared a sliced mushroom from her salad. It would be a waste of words, reminding him now, but Wyatt’s precious peace and quiet was about to be shattered.
* * *
Leigh’s room was on the second floor. Like the rest of the house, its decor was rustic and masculine with an eye to comfort. The queen-sized bed featured a decadent European-style featherbed and duvet. A hand-woven Tibetan rug covered much of the hardwood floor. Wooden shutters masked the tall windows.
One wall was decorated with framed black-and-white photos of the Himalayas. Among them was an image of a grinning, bearded Wyatt between two Sherpa porters. As Leigh stripped off her blouse, skirt and pantyhose, it was as if his mocking eyes watched her every move.
She would have to do something about that picture.
A side door opened into the nursery, which was piled with bags and boxes from Baby Mart. Zipping her jeans and tugging her sweatshirt over her head, she prepared to do battle with the mess. It was going to be a long night. And her tortured feet would feel every step she took.
Wyatt had just unpacked a solid oak rocker and was situating a cushion on the seat. He glanced up as she padded barefoot into the nursery.
“That’s more like it,” he said, taking in her outfit. “But where are your shoes?”
Leigh wiggled her swollen toes. “Too many hours in stilettos. I’m so footsore I can’t even wear my sneakers.”
“That’s no good.” He rose, gesturing toward the chair. “Maybe I can help. Sit down.”
She hesitated. “We really need to get started here.”
“Sit. That’s an order.”
Leigh sank onto the padded seat. Being bossed rankled her, but she was on his clock, and if he could do something for her feet, who was she to argue?
Dropping to a crouch, he cradled her left foot between his hands. “Trust me. I’ve dealt with enough sports injuries to pick up a few tricks.”
His strong hands began kneading her foot, fingers pressing the arch as his thumbs massaged the bones and tendons between her toes. Leigh could feel herself relaxing as the pain eased. Delicious sensations trickled up her leg. She closed her eyes. A moan escaped her lips.
He chuckled. “Feels good, does it?”
“Mmm-hmm. You could do this for a living.” Her mind began to wander forbidden paths, imagining how those skilled hands would feel in other places. She hadn’t been in a physical relationship since breaking her engagement, eleven months ago. Now she felt her body awakening to Wyatt’s masculine touch. And she couldn’t help remembering that they were alone here, with a bed in the next room....
But what was she thinking? Sleeping with Wyatt was a crazy idea. Any intimacy between them would just make it that much harder for her to hold on to her secrets.
With a mental slap, Leigh shocked herself back to reality. When she opened her eyes, Wyatt was looking up at her as if he’d detected something in her face. Her cheeks warmed. Had he guessed what she’d been thinking?
“How’s your room?” He broke the awkward silence. “Will it be all right?”
“It’s lovely—although I may not be able to roll myself out of that bed in the morning.”
“Chloe chose that room for you. She wanted you next to the nursery, where you could hear the baby at night.”
“And where will Chloe be?”
“Her room’s downstairs. She says she doesn’t want his crying to wake her up.”
So, what’s wrong with this picture? Leigh bit back an acerbic comment. She’d known she was getting into a prickly situation. That was why she’d taken the job in the first place. But this was no time to climb on her soapbox—especially since the issue would need to be addressed with Chloe, not the girl’s father.
“I can guess what you’re thinking.” He switched to her other foot, skilled fingers kneading away the soreness. “But for now I want you to cut the girl some slack—give her time to get back on her feet, physically and emotionally. When her mother had to choose between her husband and her pregnant daughter, Chloe found herself on her way to the airport with her bags. As if she hadn’t been through enough already, dealing with the pregnancy on her own.” Wyatt’s fingers pressed harder against Leigh’s arch, almost hurting. “So help me, if I ever find the irresponsible jerk who took advantage of a young girl’s trust and then just walked away....”
“I think we’d better get to work.” Leigh pulled free and scrambled to her feet, uncertain she could trust herself not to rise to her brother’s defense if Wyatt continued in that vein. It wasn’t as if Kevin hadn’t offered to stand by Chloe. As for what had happened—Kevin had told her it had been after a party, with both of them more than a little drunk. No trust—or even love—involved. No one taking advantage. Just two reckless kids being stupid.
But the result of their thoughtless act was the little miracle she’d held for the first time today.
Not that she could explain any of that to Wyatt. Not now, and probably not ever.
Reaching for a box of linens, she began unwrapping crib pads, sheets and towels. “These will all need to be washed and dried before we use them,” she said. “There’s baby soap here somewhere. If you’ll point me toward the laundry room, I’ll get started.”
“It’s just off the kitchen—you’ll see it when you go downstairs. Meanwhile, I’ll unpack more of these boxes and recycle the cardboard. You can put everything away when you get back here.”
“Thanks.” Leigh found the pink soap box, bundled up the linens and headed for the stairs. She needed a break from Wyatt’s overpowering presence, and the laundry gave her an excuse. His drive had won Olympic glory and built one of the finest ski resorts in the state. But up close and personal, his magnetism could be an emotional drain. Her physical attraction to him only complicated things.
It would be easier after tomorrow, with the baby here. She’d have something to focus on, something to love—no, not to love. She was here to give Kevin’s son a good start in life. Sooner or later she would have to let go and walk away. If she allowed herself to fall in love with little Mikey, the final break would rip her heart out.
* * *
Wyatt stood alone on the second floor balcony. He’d expected to be worn out after helping Leigh set up the nursery. But they’d finished a
