stepping into the room, she smoothed her hand along the arm of a simple yellow sofa that sat beside a matching chair and in front of a wide-screen TV. Her head turned from side to side as she walked to the door that led to the bedroom. Then she gasped.
“This is gorgeous.”
He ambled up beside her and glanced into the room which, he supposed, was pretty with its black four-poster bed and pale gold spread and matching curtains.
“It’s a bit of a perk since our maid also has to be a nanny.”
This time when she faced him her angelic smile had been replaced by one of sheer joy. Her amber eyes were so brilliant they virtually shone.
“Maybe I should take this job permanently,” she said with a laugh.
Bowled over by the power in her smile, he nearly said, “That’s a great idea.” Luckily he stopped himself. First, he was too darned attracted to her to keep her forever. Second, she was a stranger hinting for a full-time position caring for his kids. He knew all the employees of Happy Maids were bonded, which meant they’d passed routine background checks, but he’d still ordered his security team to do a full background check on Ellie after she’d agreed to take the job. Within twenty minutes Mac knew she’d never been in jail, never been arrested, never even had an unpaid parking ticket. Which meant his children were somewhat safe with her.
But he still didn’t feel he knew enough to be comfortable leaving her alone with his kids. Lacy and Henry were everything to him. He wouldn’t trust them with just anybody. He’d ordered his security team to keep looking into her past. By this time tomorrow, he hoped to know everything there was to know about Ellie Swanson. If he found anything at all in the report he didn’t like he might actually be asking her to leave, not inviting her to stay permanently.
He walked over to the door leading to the nursery. “Henry’s in here.”
She followed him into the huge room decorated with rainbows and unicorns, white rockers and fuzzy lime-green throw rugs. Henry stirred. Mac leaned in to check on him and Ellie leaned in, too.
She whispered, “Oh, we’re going to wake him?”
Her breath fanned across his cheek. The scent of her cologne wafted to him. Her upper arm brushed against his. He swallowed and decided he’d better speed up his search for a permanent maid. He’d never been more aware of a woman. Let alone someone who was technically help.
But he hadn’t met her as help and she didn’t behave like help. And if he didn’t soon establish a boss/housekeeper relationship between them, this attraction could be trouble. He could embarrass her, or worse, embarrass himself. Then her entire stay would be awkward.
Henry woke and let out a little cry to awaken his voice before he shrieked in earnest. Mac hoisted the baby into his arms before he terrified his new nanny.
To his surprise, though, she laughed. “Oh, gosh, he’s cute.” She tweaked his cheek. “And listen to those lungs! You’re going to be a rock star someday, aren’t you, little pumpkin!”
Henry stopped crying and peered at her curiously.
It appeared Mac wasn’t the only Carmichael male who was being thrown off-kilter by this woman’s looks and far too casual behavior.
“Henry, this is Ellie. She’s going to be caring for you when Daddy can’t. Ellie, this is Henry.”
“Can I hold him?”
“Sure.”
She took the baby from his arms with the ease of someone accustomed to holding a baby.
“Hey, sweetie,” she said, bouncing him a bit. But Henry only continued to stare.
I’m right with you, kid. She’s so beautiful I could stare at her all day too, Mac thought, taking a step back out of range of her cologne. He walked to the changing table and retrieved a diaper and other necessary items to clean up the baby before putting him into a new outfit. “Bring him here. I’m sure he needs to be changed.”
Ellie smiled at him. “I can handle this. You go and do whatever you would usually be doing right now.”
“No.”
“No?” She took a few steps closer to the changing table. “I thought I was here to care for your kids?”
“Yes, you are. But,” he said, keeping his gaze and attention on Henry as he removed his diaper, “as I’ve already mentioned, I’ll care for the children while I’m here.”
“Okay.”
She didn’t sound at all understanding of his position that he’d be caring for his own kids. But Mac didn’t feel the need to explain that he had to make up for his ex-wife’s neglect by being available to his kids as much as he could be. Through his peripheral vision he saw that she stood off to the side, watching him, making Mac nervous until he realized she was waiting for instructions.
Mac glanced up at her. “Why don’t you go to your room and unpack your bag? When I’m done with Henry, I’ll give you the rest of the tour of the house.”
Ten minutes later, Mac knocked on her bedroom door and stepped inside, a clean and happy Henry on his arm.
Closing the closet door where she’d stowed her suitcase, Ellie faced him. “Ready for the tour?”
“Yes.” Mac led her out of her suite and to the right. He pointed at the door beside the nursery door. “This leads to my suite.”
“Okay.”
She didn’t like the warmth that bubbled in her middle with the realization that their bedrooms were so close. Fear or apprehension wouldn’t have surprised her. But anticipation? That was ridiculous and wrong. She’d sworn off men forever. The proximity of their bedrooms shouldn’t matter. Plus, her suite had its own bathroom. She wouldn’t be venturing into the hall in her night-clothes or wrapped in a towel before or after a shower—neither would he. She had nothing to fear and nothing to worry about—except maybe this crazy attraction which seemed to have a life of its own.
Mac opened the next door. With a motion of his hand he invited her to peek into the pink-and-white room. “And this is Lacy’s room. Also close enough for you to hear her if something happens.”
Glad to have her mind moving off his master suite and to the kids, Ellie said, “Good.”
Walking again, they passed eye-popping red statues and etchings done in cocoa-brown ink. Behind a curving cherrywood staircase, a wall of windows displayed a panoramic view of the canal. Sharp, contemporary accent chairs with chrome arms and legs and nubby yellow fabric backs and seats sat by tall, thin chrome lamps. The floor was a warm honey-colored hardwood. Once again she thought of a museum.
“These two doors,” Mac said, pointing to the right and then the left, “lead to two guest suites.”
They turned a corner. Mac pointed at two doors on opposite sides of the hall. “Two more guest suites.”
“Of course.”
“I don’t have guests often,” Mac continued, leading
