The Nanny Solution. Teresa Hill

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      “Simon, if you’re thinking that…that…”

      “Yes?”

      “That there’s going to be anything else between us – ” She blushed furiously.

      He thought about how very much he wanted there to be something else between them. He wished it could be as easy between them as the dog disappearing, Simon pushing Audrey back inside, closing the door behind him, peeling off every stitch she was wearing and taking her back to bed for a good long time.

      And he couldn’t say any of that to her.

      At least he really shouldn’t.

      He made a habit of not messing with the women who worked for him. He’d been tempted before, but he’d always resisted.

      Of course, he’d never wanted to break all the rules as much as he did right now.

       Available in April 2010 from Mills & Boon® Special Moments™

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      Healing the MD’s Heart by Nicole Foster & Welcome Home, Daddy by Carrie Weaver

      The Bravo Bachelor by Christine Rimmer

      The Nanny Solution by Teresa Hill

      An Ideal Father by Elaine Grant

      Not Without Her Family by Beth Andrews

      The Nanny Solution

      By

      Teresa Hill

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       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Teresa Hill lives within sight of the mountains in upstate South Carolina with one husband, very understanding and supportive; one daughter, who’s taken up drumming (Earplugs really don’t work that well. Neither do sound-muffling drum pads. Don’t believe anyone who says they do); and one son, who’s studying the completely incomprehensible subject of chemical engineering (Flow rates, Mum. It’s all about flow rates).

      In search of company while she writes away her days in her office, she has so far accumulated two beautiful, spoiled dogs and three cats (the black panther/champion hunter, the giant powder puff and the tiny tiger stripe), all of whom take turns being stretched out, belly-up on the floor beside her, begging for attention as she sits at her computer.

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      To the woman in my life we all call Nannie,

      My grandmother, Lurene Haggard,

      In honour of her 84th birthday

       Chapter One

      “You look like a nun in that outfit!”

      Audrey Graham sighed and turned around to face what might be her only friend left in the world, sixty-something, maybe even seventy-something, Marion Givens, her inspiration, best cheerleader, landlady and now unofficial job counselor.

      “Thank you, I think,” Audrey said.

      She’d wrapped herself from head to toe in the thick, concealing fabric of what she considered a neat, maybe even stylish designer warm-up suit, if there was such a thing as a truly stylish warm-up suit.

      “It wasn’t a compliment,” Marion said. “Although with that face, I have to say you’re much too pretty to be a nun, at least. But from the back…’

      Audrey frowned at her own reflection in the mirror.

      She’d cut her long, brown hair six weeks ago in a fit of…needing to be different, she supposed, different in every way. It was curlier than it had been, now that it wasn’t so heavy and long, and it bounced around her face constantly. There was just no taming it, but she didn’t really spend any time on it, which was what she’d been going for.

      Sometimes she thought it looked cute.

      Hoped it didn’t look sexy.

      She hadn’t worn any make-up this morning, not really, just some lip gloss and mascara, and she looked like…

      Audrey just didn’t know.

      Not like her old self, that was for sure.

      Younger than she would have thought she could look, although she hadn’t been going for that, either.

      She’d been hoping for…invisibility or something along those lines.

      “I hear nuns have very peaceful lives,” Audrey said, grabbing her purse and fishing for her keys. “Peace sounds good to me. Although at the moment, I’m scared to death. I haven’t gone on a job interview in nearly twenty years.”

      She’d been nineteen and looking for a job waiting tables at a place where she was really too young to work, a place where the wait staff wore low-cut tops and little, bitty skirts and the tips were really good.

      She’d gotten the job.

      Now forty was fast approaching—God, how did that happen?—and she was covering up as much of her skin as possible.

       ‘Bout time, Audrey.

      “I don’t think the interview process has changed all that much,” Marion said, trying to reassure her.

      “You’re sure he really needs somebody? This is not some kind of favor you called in, some make-work kind of thing?”

      “I’m sure. He’s desperate. He was practically

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