style="font-size:15px;"> “The other nannies were…” Trey shook his head as he glanced over at her. His eyes were truly a remarkable shade of blue. “Some quit after only a few days, some just simply didn’t work out from our end, most of them couldn’t handle Stacy and Doug. None of them stayed more than a few months.”
“That’s got to have been dreadfully tough on Doug and Stacy. I’m not blaming you, mind you,” she added hastily. “I’m not going to pretend that I know you in any kind of depth, but what I do know is that you love your children.”
“But…?” Trey asked, correctly hearing that invisible little word dangling there.
“But twelve nannies in even four years would have to be trying on any child, let alone a sensitive one like Doug,” she pointed out. “In my opinion, Trey—” She’d managed to say his name instead of sir, but it had come out sounding too soft, too intimate and she froze.
He was watching her, giving her his full attention, and being the focal point of all that grim intensity was rather overwhelming. But then he smiled slightly, and the harsh lines of his face softened, and he was somehow, some way even morehandsome, his eyes even more blue. “Thanks,” he said. “I know it’s not easy for you to call me that.”
She tried not to be affected, but her voice came out far too whispery and soft. “In my opinion, Doug’s dealt with all the chaos and change in his life extremely well. He has no reason to trust me, and in fact, here we go again, right? I’m only going to be here for the short term. If Doug’s been paying attention and I think he probably knows everything that goes on in this house, including a few things you don’t think he knows—he does know I’m not going to stay. He has no reason at all to risk becoming attached to me. Considering that, and considering everything else—including his shyness—I’m more than willing to become friends on his terms, first. And if that means playing make-believe games with him, I truly think that’s fine. So unless you specifically tell me that you don’t want—”
“No,” he said. “It’s obvious you’ve thought this through. I’m still leery, but you’re right about Doug being shy.”
“Doug’s shy, but Doggie’s not,” Katherine said, referring to the boy’s alter ego. “I see no reason he shouldn’t use that to empower himself.”
“The dog thing drives me nuts,” Trey admitted. “That’s the hard part about being a single parent. You have to deal with everything—even the things that make you crazy. When Stacy was really little, like two or three, she had this thing with her socks—the seam had to line up across her toes in a certain way, and if they didn’t, it was a tragedy. The shoes couldn’t go on her feet, life virtually had to screech to a halt. I swear, if you wanted her to leave the house at a certain time, you had to start her with her socks and her shoes a good forty minutes beforehand. It drove me mad, but it didn’t bother Helena one bit. She thought it was funny—she was so patient with both the kids and…” He glanced away, and when he looked back he tried to force a smile. “Let’s just say patience isn’t one of my strengths.”
Katherine couldn’t stop the rush of compassion. There was no way on earth this man could have killed his wife. Absolutely no way. Obviously, he loved Helena still. “Well, now that I’m here, I’ll do what I can to help.”
“I suppose it’s too soon to try to talk you into staying on permanently…?”
Katherine laughed and stood up. “I’d better get back to the children.”
She started for the door.
“Kathy.”
She turned back.
Trey had stood up, and silhouetted the way he was against the window and the bright-blue November afternoon, he looked even taller and broader than usual. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.”
He reached up, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. “I was hoping we could set up a time to talk each day—maybe in the evening, in between Doug’s and Stacy’s bedtimes. You could keep me filled in on what’s going on with the kids.”
Katherine found her voice. “That sounds…very smart.”
He shrugged out of his jacket, draped it on the back of one of his leather chairs, then rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. “Say…nine o’clock here, in my office? Doug’s usually unconscious by eight forty-five, but Stacy usually doesn’t get to bed until ten-thirty or eleven. There are shows she likes to watch on TV.”
“That sounds perfect.” Good grief, she sounded like an idiot. That sounds smart. That sounds perfect. What it really sounded was incredibly, foolishly disappointing.
Her heart was still pounding, though. When he’d first said he was hoping to set up a time for them to talk each day, she’d actually been dumb enough to think it was because he enjoyed her company. But no. She’d forgotten herself for a nanosecond, forgotten she was wearing that dull white underwear, forgotten that Trey was, indeed, completely out of her league. Not to mention that he was still in love with his dead wife. Dear Lord, she was so foolish.
“See you tonight, then,” he said.
“All right.” She turned to leave, extremely glad he couldn’t read her mind, but again he stopped her.
“Kathy, hang on.” He crossed the room toward her. “You’ve got…”
She was completely confused as he reached around behind her. He smelled almost sinfully good at that close range, but she still nearly jumped a mile into the air as his fingers brushed the seat of her pants. What was he doing?
“Hold still,” he ordered almost sternly, then touched her again and—
There was a small tearing sound, and Trey handed her a small cardboard tag that had been attached to the back pocket of her brand-new jeans.
“Oh, dear,” she said.
He smiled. Not one of those forced, rueful half smiles he was so good at. This one was genuine, and at close range, it packed quite a wallop.
Katherine knew she was blushing, and she blushed even harder when she realized that in order for him to have noticed that tag, he had to have been looking directly at the seat of her pants. He’d been checking her out again. Imagine that. Even though she was wearing her boring white underwear.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he said.
She took the piece of cardboard from him and their fingers touched. His were warm and big, with neatly trimmed nails. She glanced up into his eyes—she couldn’t help herself—and saw that his smile had faded.
He took a step back, away from her, as if suddenly aware he was standing much too close.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I have this tendency to point out unzipped flies and spinach between teeth, too. I tuck labels back down into the shirts of strangers. It’s gotten me into trouble on more than one occasion.”
“I think I probably need someone like you following me around,” Katherine admitted. “I once spent an entire day with my shirt on inside out and not one person told me. I finally realized what I’d done at bedtime. I was mortified.”
“Maybe
