like a sex-starved loon.
“I adore Oliver, but I told you I’m no longer a nanny.”
Aiden stepped into the room and once again, something about the way he moved left her pulse unsettled. He held up his hands in surrender. “Got it. No more nannying for you. But did you call the service?”
“I did. They’ll send candidates over on Monday morning. We can sit down before then and go over your priorities. And mine, of course.”
“We? You know, I’m more than capable of conducting an interview. And you aren’t going to have to put up with this person. I am.”
She narrowed her focus on him. “You asked for my help.” She stood and gathered Oliver in her arms, settling him on her hip. “Some of these nannies will embellish on their experience just to get the primo jobs. I’ll see past that.”
“This is one of those primo jobs?”
“With this house? Yes. And you’re going to need someone at your beck and call with your schedule. I told them you need live-in help.” Sarah didn’t like this idea, although she couldn’t arrive at a sensible reason why. She only knew that the myth of the nanny falling for the father of her charge was very real. It happened all the time. It had happened to her. If Aiden were to be judged on his looks alone, she could see most women falling for him. Add in the money, power and semiarrogant veneer? Forget it. It was only a matter of time.
“Wait a minute. I’m not just getting one new member of the household, I’m getting two? Can’t the nanny live at her house and come over when I go to work?”
“That might work if you had a backup, like a family member. Otherwise, I can’t imagine you waiting for the nanny to show up so you can go to work. What about your mom?”
Lightning fast, Aiden plucked Oliver from her arms. “My mother will not be taking care of him.”
Sarah grappled with his hyperprotective reaction. A few hours ago, he’d been ready to banish her and the baby from LangTel corporate headquarters forever. Now, there was something else to contend with, something that Sarah sensed went deep. “Why? Most people would do anything to have a grandparent around to care for their child.”
“Not me.”
“Technically, I’m Oliver’s legal guardian. I have a right to know why.” None of this added up. Aiden’s sister Anna had spoken warmly of her mother. Sarah had read about Evelyn Langford when she was researching Aiden. She sat on countless charity boards and was known for her generosity with children’s hospitals, cancer research and battered women’s shelters. By all reports, her benevolence had grown in the wake of her husband’s death.
“I’m not saying my mother would hurt him. Not that. It’s...” He closed his eyes for a moment and Sarah’s breath hitched in her throat. No air would go in, nor would it come out. She was too in awe of this glimpse of vulnerability. It was so incongruous with his personality. He was showing a different side of himself, a side Sarah wanted to know. A side Sarah wanted to comfort. “It’s complicated. Let’s just say that for now, it’s best if you know that my mother can’t be relied upon for anything.”
There was a finality to his tone that said Sarah should leave it alone. “Okay.”
“What’s the schedule for the rest of the night? I have some work I need to tend to.”
Sarah consulted her phone—nearly five o’clock. “Oliver eats at five thirty. Bath time at six o’clock, story time at six forty-five. Bedtime is at seven.”
“Is that Oliver’s schedule or yours?”
“It’s everybody’s schedule. That’s how things work with a baby. It makes him feel secure. He knows what happens and when.”
It was impossible to ignore Aiden’s attitude. Once again, he seemed put out. “I see. I guess I still have a lot to learn. We can order some takeout to come for us around eight. I trust that will work?”
She nodded. “Yes. That will give us the perfect time to talk about my business.” There had to be some payoff for allowing herself to get in deeper, when she’d told herself she’d never do that.
“I spoke to my sister Anna about it briefly. She may be able to help. I wasn’t kidding when I told you that I don’t have many connections in that business. I can’t promise you the world.”
But you can ask the world of me. She stopped before the words left her lips, but she was all too familiar with handsome, powerful men who expected everything for very little in return. “Well, if nothing else, I’m sure you can give me some good advice. That alone could end up being very helpful.”
“Come on. Let’s go down to my office and we’ll get the nursery furniture ordered.”
They headed downstairs and Aiden led them to the double French doors, into one of the coziest, most gorgeous rooms Sarah had ever seen. The office had a different feel to it than the rest of the house, warmer and more colorful. The walls were a deep navy, and an ornate Oriental carpet sat in the center of the room, topped with a pair of club chairs and a massive oak desk. Bookshelves lined two of the walls from floor to ceiling.
“More books? Even with the home library?”
Aiden shrugged and rounded to the chocolate-brown leather desk chair. “I like to read. It’s a nice escape.”
“Escape? From what?”
“Excuse me?”
“From where I sit, you have a pretty perfect life. You have this gorgeous home, a job that tons of people would kill for and you don’t seem to be hurting from the financial end of things. More than anything, you don’t seem to do anything you don’t want to do. At all. Ever.”
For a moment, he just glared, not saying a word. He wasn’t angry, nor was he pleased. “You say whatever you want to say, don’t you?”
“It’s not that bizarre a question. I’ve seen the pictures. Skydiving. Hiking the Andes. I’m just wondering what you need to escape from.”
“Stress,” he answered flatly, methodically spinning a pen on a pad of paper. She hadn’t noticed his hands much before now and she was kicking herself for not paying better attention. His fingers moved gracefully, demonstrating their ability to do things deftly, but they were manly, too—strong. Able.
“Stress.” Her stupid brain leaped ahead to methods of reducing stress and none of it had to do with reading. Again she was knee-deep in thoughts of what he looked like under that T-shirt.
“Yes.” He opened his laptop and placed his fingers on the keyboard, but stopped before typing. “I don’t even know where to start. Do I just search for baby crib?”
“Here. Let me do it.” She carried Oliver around behind Aiden’s desk and handed him the baby. Oliver settled in on Aiden’s lap, but reached for the pen.
“Can I let him have this?”
“No. He’ll put it in his mouth. You can run upstairs and grab a toy out of his room.”
Aiden raised an eyebrow as if she’d made the most ludicrous suggestion ever.
She
