“You’re not telling me, Jordan Maxwell, that you’re tarring the sister with the same brush you were quite justified in tarring her brother with!” Censure tinged Bette’s voice. “For heaven’s sake, Jordan, the girl—”
“She’s not a girl!” He felt like a schoolboy put out after being reprimanded by a favorite teacher. “She’s a woman, and one I don’t want to be around.” He sounded, now, like a sulky schoolboy, and that irritated him.
“You have to put Mandy first. She’s the one who’s important here…not you. The poor child lost not only her mother but the baby-sitter she loved. I know she adores you but she needs a mother—or at least, a female to mother her. I don’t think you’d have had quite so serious a problem with her if she’d lost just one care-giver—in that case, she’d have been able to turn to the other for comfort.”
“I know that,” he growled. “You don’t have to…” His voice trailed away as a thought occurred to him.
“Then what are you going to do, Jordan? I don’t see a way out. You’re determined to do what’s best for Mandy, but you’re just as determined to dislike this woman. Children sense conflict. It’s the last thing Mandy needs.”
“Don’t worry.” Jordan put his hand in the small of Bette’s back and ushered her toward the door. “What you said just now…you’ve given me an idea.” Smiling, he escorted her through to the reception area. “Thanks to you, I believe I see a way out of my dilemma.”
Felicity looked down at her sleeping charge and wondered if she’d ever felt happier. She’d told Joanne the truth when she’d said she couldn’t have loved Mandy more if she were her own child. Being here, caring for her again, was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her.
Her heart went all mushy now as she gazed upon the little girl, who looked adorable in sleep. Her bubbly blond curls were tousled, her cheeks were flushed to the same pink as her nightie, and her rosebud mouth pouted, as if she were blowing bubbles in her dreams.
She looked like a fairy…but at the thought, Felicity frowned, wondering again why Jordan still put her to bed in her crib. She reminded herself to ask him about it.
In the meantime, she was looking forward to spending the day with Mandy and wished she would wake up!
As if the child had read her mind, she opened her eyes and when she saw Felicity, her face split in a smile.
She scrambled to her feet. “Fizzy! You’re still here!”
“Of course I’m here, darling. Didn’t I tell you I always would be?”
“Let me out! Out, out, out!”
Laughing, Felicity unhooked the side of the crib and slid it down. Then taking both Mandy’s hands, she encouraged the child to jump, and swung her down, her narrow feet landing with a light thump on the carpet.
“I’ve been waiting for you to waken,” Felicity said, “so we can start our first day here together.”
Ten minutes later, they were on their way downstairs, with Mandy wearing the yellow T-shirt and shorts she’d chosen from her wardrobe, with a pair of yellow sandals.
“After breakfast,” Felicity said, “We’ll go out for a walk. But before we go out, would you like to show me over the whole house? It’s lovely, but so big. I’m sure to get lost if you don’t show me where everything is.”
“And I’ll show you outside, too.” Mandy skipped along happily. “There’s a garden, and a greenhouse, and a hot tub. Daddy sometimes uses the hot tub, but only in the winter. He says it’s for grown-ups, to relax after a hard day. Do you have hard days, Fizzy?”
She’d had some very hard days over the last three months, but now, thanks to whichever angel was sitting on her shoulder, life was going to be wonderful.
“From today on,” she said, “for me…and for you, Mandy dear…the hard days are over.”
Jordan didn’t get home till after seven.
Silence met him as he walked into the foyer. He stood and listened. Not a sound…except for the steady tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the stairwell—a clock he personally thought looked hideous. The price had also been hideous, but Marla had wanted it so Marla had bought it.
He pushed the memory away.
With his linen jacket slung over his arm, he tugged the knot of his tie loose and made for the stairs. Ascending with barely a sound, he reflected that it was a very long time since he’d sensed peace in the place.
And it was peace he needed.
First day back on the job, he’d scrambled to catch up—contacting clients, checking new listings, dealing with an irate couple whose newly purchased condo had sprung a leak just days after they took possession…
He would shower, go down to the kitchen and rustle up a sandwich. And he’d take it—along with a beer—to the lounge, where he’d put up his feet and read the newspaper. Thank the Lord the Fairfax woman was keeping out of his way. He saw, when he reached the landing, that her bedroom door was closed. With a bit of luck, he mused, she was in there and would stay there.
The cat, he hoped, was in there, too.
Mandy’s door was half open, the heavy curtains closed, the night-light on.
He moved the door gently in, and tiptoed to the crib.
She was sound asleep; he could hear her soft breathing.
He leaned over and with a tender hand, touched her fine curly hair.
“Good night, princess,” he whispered. “Daddy loves you, and things are going to be much better from now on. Just don’t go getting too attached to your precious Fizzy again, because I’m going to ease her out of here as soon as I can find someone else to look after you. But don’t worry, honey, I’ll do it in such a way you’ll never even notice she’s gone.”
He stood there a while longer, thinking, listening to her breathe, mulling over his plan.
And then, after blowing her one last little kiss, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.
“What an absolute snake!”
Shooting up to a sitting position in Mandy’s single bed, Felicity hissed out the words as she stared, outraged, at his back and the closing door.
Because Mandy hadn’t wanted her to leave after she’d been put down in her crib for the night, Felicity had offered to stay with her till she slept, and had lain on the bed.
But she had fallen asleep herself.
She’d wakened when she’d sensed someone in the room. She’d been drowsy at first, but had come fully awake when she’d heard Jordan Maxwell warn his sleeping daughter not to get too attached to her “precious Fizzy again”—because he was planning to get rid of her.
Well, she wasn’t about to be got rid of.
And forewarned was forearmed.
But
