The Nanny And Her Scrooge. DeAnna Talcott

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question wanted to make Nicki laugh out loud. The fact was, she’d had this woman’s children sitting on her lap just last week. Mindy, four, and Michael, five.

      “Not right now,” Jared smoothly intervened. “She’s going to spend Christmas with me. We decided to dress up the holidays and enjoy them this year.”

      “You?” her husband boomed. “I know you. You won’t have time to enjoy them, you’ll be scrapping for every retail dollar those customers spend.”

      “And why are you complaining?” Jared good-naturedly shot back. “I put it all in your bank.”

      Everyone at the table laughed. Nicki found she genuinely enjoyed the company. More interesting, she discovered that they respected Jared.

      When the server placed a filet mignon in front of her, Nicki stared at it hungrily. It had been a long twelve hours since she’d breakfasted on a dry bagel and cream cheese—and so much had happened in between. She’d started out the day by pulling on a red Santa suit and now she was dining with the department store president. Incredible. Life had a way of sneaking up on you when you least expected it.

      She shook her head, ravenously surveying the gourmet delight on her plate.

      Jared leaned into her, his appearance solicitous. “Everything okay?” he asked.

      “Oh, I…” She looked up at him, and their gazes caught and held. Her heart started thrumming. “I was just wondering how I got here.”

      A smile played over his lips, and his eyes were dark, mysterious, as he leaned even closer. She knew, vaguely, that he was creating an illusion for those at the table, but for a moment she didn’t really care. It was so delicious to be a part of something, to have someone appear to care. It had been a long time since someone had taken care of her, or even been concerned about her. She had been lonely for so long.

      She basked in the feelings he created, even when he hung his arm across the back of her chair and squeezed her shoulder. Even when she knew it was false.

      Two of the women made note of the gesture, she realized, getting a sudden, uncomfortable wallop of reality.

      Jared, it seemed, made a show of reluctantly tearing his gaze away and asking the man next to him a question.

      Nicki was still eating when the emcee for the gala introduced those responsible and outlined the charities that would benefit from the evening’s festivities. She nearly dropped her fork when Jared Gillette was summoned to the podium.

      No one seemed to notice, and Nicki politely joined them, clapping while Jared made his way to the platform. She carefully arranged her face, as if she’d known all along this was going to happen.

      A beam of light hovered on Jared’s shoulders as he stepped through the crowd. His elegant tuxedo hung perfectly, outlining his tall, lithe frame. As he walked up the steps, his solid good looks were profiled, making him appear one notch short of angelic when he turned to the crowd and offered up a dazzling smile.

      A shiver went through Nicki.

      “On behalf of Gillette’s Department Store,” he said, “I am pleased to present the Yuletide Gala with a check for twenty-five thousand dollars. This money has been designated to benefit the city respite program for parents of developmentally disabled children as well as caregivers of the ill and recovering. On a personal note, I want to thank every volunteer who so generously gives their time to this remarkable program. Thank you. Your efforts are sincerely appreciated.”

      A ripple went through the crowd. It had been the largest donation that evening, and thunderous applause echoed through the ballroom.

      A hot, searing pain rolled through Nicki’s chest, even as she experienced a flicker of pride for Jared’s gesture. Those around her clapped wildly, and stood. She followed their example, closely watching Jared’s reaction.

      He appeared unaffected, nodding as he walked back through the crowd, a firm smile on his lips. Nicki was in awe of how easily he handled the adulation.

      He resumed his place by her, and waved to the crowd. Then he did the most unexpected thing—he reached over for her hand and captured it, twining his fingers possessively through hers. Nicki went weak, and her heart pounded. Still claiming her hand, he guided her back into her seat, and nudged his own into place.

      “That was impressive,” she whispered as everyone resumed their seats.

      “I wasn’t trying to be impressive,” he said drolly, “I was trying to do a little good.”

      “You did. No coal in your stocking this year.”

      The corner of his mouth lifted. “Can you guarantee it?”

      “Trust me,” she said, her voice heavy with innuendo, “I have my connections.”

      Jared smiled, then accepted a round of congratulations and thanks at the table. Almost immediately afterward the orchestra began to play and people filtered to the dance floor or to dessert stations at the back of the room.

      “Dance?” Jared invited, tossing his napkin onto the table.

      “Oh, you don’t have to…” Nicki trailed off, not quite sure what his intentions were. Several couples from their table were already dancing, but she knew he didn’t want to stay.

      His eyes seemed to mock her. “Maybe I want to,” he suggested. “Maybe it’s good for the illusion. Maybe it’s part of what works between us,” he emphasized.

      Nicki stared at him, then reluctantly stood. Okay. If this was part of her job, making a few swings around the dance floor, she’d cooperate.

      He stood aside for her to precede him, then reached for her hand as they wove their way through the tables. He led her onto the dance floor as though she were a queen. Nicki lifted her head, knowing all eyes were on her. Inside, her nerve endings quickened and blood pounded in her ears.

      They were barely six feet onto the dance floor when he pulled her into his arms. They made a few experimental steps around the floor. She followed his lead perfectly, matching her steps to his, feeling her body intuit his every move.

      “Everyone’s looking, aren’t they?” he asked against her ear.

      “Yes,” she said, looking over his shoulder and trying to avoid eye contact with all the curious guests.

      He pulled her imperceptibly closer, but leaned back from the waist, engaging her in private conversation. His hips intimately ground against hers. “You’re absolutely sure everyone’s looking?”

      Her eyes flickered away. “Y-yes.”

      “Good.” He abruptly spun her in a quick circle, then made a slow, seductive dip to the music. His arm supported her. She looked up into his excruciatingly handsome face, while an overhead disco ball threw a dozen scintillating sparks over his tuxedo. “Now I’m going to kiss you,” he said huskily. “Pretend you like it.”

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