face of all those problematical nannies and his unsatisfactory time at work, Max had stockpiled on bananas and come back to regroup. To get his plan honed down to razor sharpness before he went out and snaffled not just a good nanny but a nanny par excellence, tailored to his exact requirements.
That made a rather Max kind of sense. ‘You need time to sort things out? You’d like me to hang around until you can do that? A few days, maybe.’ For good or bad, she didn’t even hesitate. ‘I’ll do it.’
For the boys, she added silently, but only in the same way any responsible childcare worker would care about them. It was a belated effort to justify her decision. She was about to say more when a shaft of moonlight outside the window drew her attention to a number of bulky boxes. ‘What’s all that?’
Max followed the direction of her gaze. ‘It’s a climbing frame for the boys. It has to be assembled, but I should be able to knock that out in a couple of hours tomorrow.’
Wow. She hadn’t expected him to think of something like that. ‘Good idea. It’ll give them something to expend their energy on other than kicking in your furniture and screaming the house down.’
He grimaced. ‘That was the idea, and I have to have something to keep me occupied while I work out what to do with them.’
Some force compelled her to tell him, ‘You could be a brilliant father, Max, if you just let yourself—’
‘Don’t.’ He trapped her in an angry gaze. ‘Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, or be.’
Well, she supposed she had asked for that. Acknowledging his answer didn’t make it any more palatable, though. Why couldn’t he just love them, accept them? Instead of trying so hard to keep them at arms’ length?
Was she asking about his boys now, or about herself? The boys, of course! Phoebe had sorted out her own life history long ago and, she might add, none of it had anything to do with Max. Drat it, whatever bee had got in her brain box, she wished it would get back out again.
‘I’ll help you as much as I can.’ That was what mattered most right now. When he turned to face her, she offered a small smile. ‘It’s what I came here for.’
She laughed a little, just to show she didn’t care too much. That she wasn’t still just a little bit worried that getting to play families any longer might cause problems for her later. ‘Until you get a new nanny, that is.’
‘Thank you, Phoebe. I appreciate your willingness to try.’ The words may almost have choked him—she didn’t know—but at least he gave it a go. ‘And it would be a shame to waste the bananas.’
If Max could attempt a joke, the least she could do was be gracious. In the spirit of the moment, she stuck out her hand. ‘To my tenure as temporary nanny, then.’
Max took her hand in his. ‘To getting my sons settled.’
Their opinions on the term settled didn’t exactly line up, but Phoebe nodded anyway, then retrieved her hand from the disturbing contact with his. ‘May I ask you some questions?’
Now might not be the best time, but when would be better? Max was in a reasonably mellow frame of mind, they were trying to get along and the boys weren’t here to eavesdrop on the conversation.
‘What is it that you want to know?’
‘I’d like you to tell me about their mother.’ Did you love her? Was she in love with you? Are you still in love with her? Or was she just like all the others? Can you not even remember what she looked like properly?
Phoebe told herself she wanted to know for the boys’ sakes, but it wasn’t entirely true. She wanted to know how Max had felt about the woman who had mothered his children. And she wanted to know what kind of woman had given birth to Max’s sons. Had nursed them through the baby illnesses and toddling scrapes and bruises.
What Phoebe wouldn’t give for a chance at all of that. After all her careful thoughts, Phoebe was disgusted to realise she was jealous of someone who wasn’t even alive any more. Of someone who had been close to Max once in a way Phoebe would never be.
Are you mad?
She had to be, to even consider wanting that kind of relationship with him. Max didn’t stay with women, she warned herself. Phoebe shouldn’t have asked about the boys’ mother. Shouldn’t have opened up the subject. Except that the boys needed to be able to deal with their feelings. So she explained, ‘If I’m to help Jake and Josh to adjust to the changes taking place in their lives, I need to understand a bit about their mother.’
‘Maryellen was a university lecturer who happened to have an interest in precious gems, particularly in some of the more unique settings such as Saunders Enterprises provides.’ A muscle in Max’s jaw tightened. She got the feeling he didn’t really want to be talking about this but, even so, he held her gaze. ‘I met her at a special display evening of some of our more unique Australian opal designs.’
His comments revealed nothing of what he may have felt towards Maryellen. Was that because he hadn’t cared about her really?
‘I suppose she was gorgeous.’ The words bubbled out before Phoebe could stop them.
Max’s shrug confirmed it. ‘We had a brief affair. She was a career woman to the core. She certainly wasn’t interested in commitment and neither was I. At the end of her visit to Sydney, we parted amicably and I forgot about her until the day her lawyers contacted me, informing me of her death, my paternity and the expectation that I should collect my sons immediately.’
So Maryellen had just been another in the long line of Max’s conquests, but perhaps, if Max had known she was having his children, that might have been different. Oh, Phoebe just wished she could stop worrying at the whole issue!
Max blew out a long breath. ‘The boys were in the care of the nanny Maryellen had used but she was a teenager, relying on her mother to help her until I got there. It was far from an ideal situation.’
Tension radiated from Max’s big body and he clamped his jaw down hard. ‘Discovering I was a father came as a shock, but it shocked me more that Maryellen never contacted me. I thought she knew me well enough…’
Apparently Max had thought they’d had some kind of connection. ‘Does this mean you’re secure in terms of custody?’ Phoebe wanted to know.
‘Yes. Maryellen had no other family and I was named as sole guardian and also noted on their birth certificates as their father. There’s no doubt that they’re my responsibility.’
What a sad way to put it. What an even sadder thing it was that if Maryellen hadn’t died Max might very likely never have known he had sons. ‘I’m sorry, Max.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ His expression became fierce for a moment before he smoothed it back into bland indifference. ‘All that counts now is that I do my best for them.’
How did he reconcile that with wanting to dump them off on to a nanny? ‘Just one other thing. I’m sorry to ask, but how did Maryellen die?’
‘An accident at an archaeological site. The boys weren’t with her at the time.’
Phoebe didn’t want to think about it any more. Her emotions had jumped back
