The Nanny and the Boss's Twins. Barbara McMahon

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The Nanny and the Boss's Twins - Barbara McMahon Mills & Boon Cherish

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gazed out the window as he drove. She saw glimpses of the sea from time to time. Anticipation rose. She hoped the weather would be good for the children’s sake. It was so much easier to play by the water than inside a strange place in inclement weather. She was prepared for either eventuality, however.

      Luis drove on autopilot. He was tired, not having slept long on the plane. But as soon as he could get an internet connection, he’d send the office the work he’d done and then catch a nap.

      He glanced at Stacey. She was restful to be around and didn’t talk needlessly. Didn’t flirt, didn’t try to charm him. He frowned. Where had that thought come from? He was immune to women who were looking for a relationship, as his sister often said. Maybe he was, but he’d been in love with Melissa and when she’d died, a part of him had died as well.

      Besides, if he ever did become interested in another woman, it wouldn’t be someone like Stacey Williams. Melissa had been tall, blonde, a bit reserved and definitely sophisticated. While the coloring wasn’t too different, Stacey was totally the opposite of Melissa.

      Sophisticated wasn’t the word he’d use for her. She bubbled with life. Everything seemed like an adventure. Though she had connected instantly with his sons.

      His wife had been a real asset when he’d been courting investors for the new firm he was starting. She’d known how to entertain all levels of society. She’d always had the right word, the right clothes. Not that he was thinking about marriage or a new wife. He’d had his shot. Now he had his company—and his boys.

      Still, Stacey was young, carefree and fun—just what his sons needed. He looked at her again. She turned and met his gaze, her eyes alight with delight.

      “It’s beautiful along here. I can’t wait to see where we’ll be staying.”

      “The villa’s larger than most. My grandmother had six children. My father is third from the oldest. There’s a guest cottage that sleeps ten as well. Plenty of room for all.”

      He wondered where his grandmother would put them. Would she get servant quarters? He hadn’t thought about that. He hoped she wouldn’t get all upset if that was the case.

      He drove through the small village of Alta Parisa, the place he’d known so well from his childhood visits. They were almost at his grandmother’s. Soon he turned into the familiar drive, curving around until the villa came into view. He was surprised by the feeling of homecoming. He’d spent many summers here with his sister while his parents had been off doing their own thing and he’d wondered as a teenager why they’d had two children if they didn’t want to spend time with them.

      The villa was surrounded by flowering plants. Purple bougainvillea trailed from the upper balcony down the columns surrounding the ground-level veranda. Gardenias scented the air with their sweet fragrance. Dahlias and zinnias and roses were artfully arranged to offer contrasting colors and textures against the cream color of the walls.

      The tall windows on each floor were flanked by dark shutters that were rarely closed. The stucco gleamed in the sunshine. Beyond he saw the guest cottage a short walk from the main house through the gardens. To his right was the sea.

      The boys were straining to see everything, curiosity finally erasing crankiness and homesickness. They’d be ready for a nap in the early afternoon, but Luis hoped they’d greet his grandmother without any attitude.

      “We’re here,” Luis said needlessly. He glanced at his new nanny, wondering what she thought of the place. Melissa had only come once and had been out of her element not speaking the language and not knowing anyone. That had been the only time she hadn’t fit in perfectly, whatever the circumstances.

      How would Stacey fare? Not that it mattered that much, she was only a temporary nanny after all. She’d be perfect for the boys, which would leave him free to spend time with his grandmother, cousins, and parents when they arrived. And to work.

      “It’s lovely,” she said, still taking in everything.

      He looked at the villa again, remembering racing around the upper balcony, chasing Isabella. They were only two years apart and except when the cousins had come to visit had had only themselves to play with those summers. There’d been no other children living close by. They’d had the run of the place and known every nook and cranny.

      He hoped his sons would have happy memories of this visit. He glanced again at Stacey. She’d proved competent on the trip, keeping the boys entertained and under control. She’d been especially helpful at the airport in Madrid. She looked as fresh as she had when he’d first seen her at JFK. She turned to look at him and he was struck anew by how blue her eyes were. He stared a moment, time suspended. He could feel his interest intensify. If he let himself forget for a second she was in his employ, that she was there for his kids, would he do something foolish?

      “Welcome to my grandmother’s home,” he said in Spanish.

      “Thank you. I can’t wait to see everything,” she replied in the same language.

      “I’ll be happy to show you around. Come meet my grandmother.” A cordial offer. He would make sure she was satisfied without giving in to the need he suddenly felt to learn more about her. To get to know her. She was beautiful, no doubt, but he’d seen beautiful women before.

      Stacey helped get the boys from the car and the four of them went to the huge double front doors, carved of dark wood, gleaming with a rich, dark finish. Knocking brought a maid in no time, who obviously knew Luis as she broke into rapid Spanish words of welcome. Hugging him, she looked at Stacey and the boys. Quickly she spoke again.

      “Sorry, Camilla, they don’t speak Spanish yet. Juan and Pablo, this is Camilla, she works for your great-grandmother and can always find a snack for a hungry boy,” Luis said with a grin.

      She beamed at the boys and spoke again.

      “She says come visit with her when you get settled,” Stacey translated.

      The maid looked at her. “You speak Spanish,” she said in that language.

      “. I’m Stacey, nanny to the boys. Perhaps you can show me where I should go?”

      “Oh, la señora wishes to see all of you as soon as you arrive. Come in. What am I doing, talking when she awaits? Come, come. She’s on the terrace by the sea. It’s warm this morning, she’s enjoying her chocolate there. Come, come.”

      Following her as she walked quickly through the villa, they soon came to a lovely terrace that was surrounded by flowers and straight ahead a view of the Med. The sea sparkled in the sunshine, reflecting the light like diamonds on the waves. The blue of the water was deeper than that of the clear sky.

      An elderly woman sat at a table with another, enjoying their hot beverages.

      “Ah, Luis, you have arrived!” The older of the two jumped up and rushed to greet him. She was dressed in black, her silvery hair fashioned in a short style suited to an active life.

      Stacey watched as the petite woman embraced her much taller grandson, tears of happiness in her eyes. She then looked at the boys and hugged each of them, exclaiming on how big they’d gotten, how happy she was to have them visit, how she’d missed them. When she got to Stacey she smiled. “I’m Marie Aldivista. Welcome to my home.”

      “Stacey Williams, nanny for the boys,” Stacey

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