and Amanda found herself face-to-face with Melanie. The little girl’s brown eyes widened. She turned on her heels and raced away.
“Wait! Melanie,” Amanda said, taking a step into the entry, but the child raced around a corner and disappeared.
“You must forgive my daughter. She was expecting somebody else and doesn’t do well with strangers.” The deep voice came from the doorway opposite the direction in which Melanie had run.
Amanda recognized the voice from the single phone conversation she’d had with him. She turned to face Sawyer Bennett.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but he wasn’t it. She hadn’t anticipated the broad shoulders that stretched the black T-shirt he wore. She hadn’t expected him to be so tall. But more than anything she hadn’t anticipated the handsome, haunted features; the black hair or the dark green eyes that reminded her of a mysterious forest.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come and so I didn’t prepare Melanie for your arrival,” he said. “I’m Sawyer Bennett.” He stepped closer to her and held out a hand. “And I assume you’re Amanda.”
She nodded, shook his hand and tried not to notice the scent that drifted off him, the scent of something wild and slightly intoxicating. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said as he dropped her hand and stepped back.
“I trust you had no problems finding the place?”
She thought about telling him she’d stopped into the café in Conja Creek but then changed her mind. “Your directions were excellent,” she replied. “I had no trouble.”
“Good. Then we’ll just get you settled in. If you’ll follow me I’ll show you to the room where you’ll be staying.”
Amanda had always considered herself pretty good at reading people, but she found it impossible to read her new employer. She followed him up the stairs, trying to absorb the first impressions that filled her head.
The house was silent except for their footsteps whispering against the plush beige carpeting, but there was a simmering energy that pulsed in the air, and she wasn’t sure if it radiated from the house itself or the man in front of her.
Please don’t let this be a mistake. The mantra repeated itself in her head as she stared at his stiff, unyielding back. They reached the top of the stairs and passed a closed door. He stepped into the next room and gestured her inside.
It was a pleasant bedroom decorated in various shades of yellow. “You can stay in here or you’re welcome to one of the other guest bedrooms. Melanie’s room is right next door to this one and the only drawback is that you’ll share a bathroom with her.”
As Amanda looked through the bathroom she saw Melanie peeking around the corner. Her little gamin face was there only a moment, then gone. “I certainly don’t mind if Melanie doesn’t. This will be just fine.”
He nodded. “I assume you have suitcases in your car? If you’ll give me the key I’ll see that they’re brought up to you.”
“I’d like to go over the particulars,” she began as she handed him her keys, but he held up a hand to stop her.
“We’ll talk later. I know you’ve had a long trip. Dinner is at six. We’ll talk after that.” He didn’t wait for her response, but instead turned on his heels and left her alone in the room.
She heard the murmur of his deep voice and when she looked into the hallway she saw Sawyer and his daughter, her little hand in his, going back down the stairs. She watched until they disappeared from sight, then she walked to the mirror above the dresser to see if the apprehension that fluttered in her chest showed on her face.
Her blue eyes reflected none of the turmoil, and her dark brown hair remained pulled back away from her features in a low ponytail that went to the middle of her shoulders. She’d worn no makeup, hoping that without it she would look older than her twenty-seven years.
She knew that Sawyer was thirty-three, the same age as her brother, and she hadn’t wanted him to think of her as Johnny’s baby sister.
She turned away from the mirror with a small sigh and instead walked over to the bedroom window and peered outside.
From this vantage point she saw the backyard. There was an area of lush lawn, then the faint dark sparkle of swamp water surrounded by tangled vegetation and gnarled, twisted cypress trees.
A narrow wooden dock with side rails extended out over the water, appearing to her as an invitation to an inhospitable wildness.
This was not a place of warmth and safety, but rather one of uncertainty with the potential for imminent danger. With an eight-year-old living here, there should be laughter and chatter. The house should teem with noise, but instead the utter silence pressed in around her. And if she listened to idle gossip it was possible that the man was as dangerous as the place.
She couldn’t think that way. She refused to let the words of a stranger in a café override her brother’s characterization of Sawyer Bennett. Still, she wished she’d done a little research before jumping at the job opportunity.
She knew Sawyer Bennett was an architect, but surely he had people who worked for him here in the house. A cook, a housekeeper, some people to work the grounds. She couldn’t imagine living in a place this size without having a staff of some sort. So, where was everyone?
She didn’t know how long she’d been standing at the window, staring out and wondering what she’d gotten herself into, when a loud thump resounded from behind her.
She whirled around to see a burly blond man just inside her room. He’d dropped her large suitcase on the floor and still held her smaller overnight bag. “Name is George. I work for Mr. Bennett.” He placed the overnight bag on the floor and when he straightened, his gaze swept her from head to toe. “Be nice to have something pretty to look at again.”
Something about his gaze made her feel like she needed a shower, but before she could say anything he turned and left. She rubbed the center of her forehead where the tension headache had renewed its acquaintance with her.
What in the heck had she gotten herself into?
AT QUARTER TO SIX Amanda left her bedroom and headed down the stairs in search of the dining room or kitchen. In the two hours she’d been in her room she’d unpacked her things, taken a shower and changed her clothes. In that time she’d heard nothing, seen nobody.
As she descended, the scent of something savory cooking made her stomach rumble in response, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since that morning.
But more than appease her hunger, she was eager to spend some time with Melanie, anxious to learn more about what, exactly, her nanny job entailed.
She ran her hands down the sides of her navy dress, hoping she was dressed appropriately. When he’d indicated that dinner was at six, she’d had the feeling that jeans and a T-shirt were not appropriate attire.
She found Melanie seated next to her father on the sofa in the living room. Sawyer rose to his feet as she entered. “Good evening, Ms. Rockport.” She was grateful she’d decided to wear the dress, as he was clad in a pair of dress slacks and a crisp white shirt.
“Please, make it Amanda,”
