Marrying The Virgin Nanny / The Nanny And Me. Teresa Southwick

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Marrying The Virgin Nanny / The Nanny And Me - Teresa Southwick Mills & Boon Cherish

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agree.” To her way of thinking babies always had a reason for crying and should not be ignored. The child came first. Period. The caretaker was always on call. “What happened to nanny number two?”

      “A family emergency.” He glanced at his son, a fiercely protective look. “Something I understand all too well.”

      She’d never had a family, at least not a traditional one. “That’s not her fault.”

      “No, but now it’s my problem. And I have to ask—you walked in and had him quiet in thirty seconds flat—how did you do that?”

      She shrugged. “I’m good at what I do, Mr. Garrett.”

      “I couldn’t say about babies in general,” he said, a smile cutting through his uncompromising expression. The transformation was amazing. “But I saw for myself that with my son you’re very skilled.”

      She wasn’t the only one. Her skill was infants, his was flattery. At first he’d kept it securely under wraps, along with his seriously compelling charm. Now that he needed them, he pulled out both and set them on stun. “Brady is a beautiful child.”

      “He’s more than that, Ms. Shepherd—”

      “Maggie.”

      He nodded. “He’s my son, Maggie. I’m a demanding boss. I’ll admit that. And I don’t know a lot about babies. I’ll admit that, too. But most important for you to know is that I’m a protective father. It seems to me that when caring for a child there are some basic nonnegotiable principles.”

      “Such as?”

      “Doing your job. When I arrived home from the office unexpectedly, I found nanny number three on the balcony with a glass of wine and Brady in his crib crying.”

      Maggie was shocked. “That’s horrific.”

      “I thought so, too, and fired her on the spot.”

      “Good for you.”

      “So, you see, I find myself in a situation. I have a business to run.”

      “I’ve heard of it. Garrett Industries is developing that huge project just off the 15 freeway, the one monopolizing all the construction cranes in the Southwest.” When he grinned again, her chest felt funny even before her pulse fluttered.

      “There’s nothing I’d like better than to stay home and care for my son, but I have obligations. People are counting on me and I’m counting on you. I’m in great need of your services.”

      “What about my references?”

      “I understand that there’s no way to measure a person’s ability to do a good job, but it would reassure me to see something in writing that says you’re qualified to care for children. But I’d like to hire you right now, references pending.”

      When Brady started to whimper harder, she really felt as if this was a father-son tag team. They were piling it on. His crying went from half-hearted to off the chart in a matter of seconds and Jason handed him back to her.

      “Hey, sweetie,” she soothed, and tried stroking his palm again. After several heaving sobs he started to quiet.

      “I think I’ve just seen all the references necessary,” Jason said. “He wouldn’t stop crying for me and I offered him a thousand dollars. The interview is over, you’re hired.”

      Maggie wasn’t so sure this was a good idea, but she simply couldn’t walk out on this child. “Okay.”

      “Brady is asleep.”

      Jason looked up and saw Maggie in the doorway to his study. He’d been completely focused on the information in the envelope that Ginger Davis had messengered over. Reading about his new nanny was priority number one and he’d forgotten about asking her to join him when the baby was settled.

      Sitting behind his flat oak desk in his home office, he held out a hand. “Have a seat.”

      She picked the left wingchair across from him, then folded her hands in her lap as she met his gaze.

      “Is Brady all right?”

      “He’s an angel,” she said, smiling for the first time. “He’s bathed, fed and sleeping like a baby.”

      “Good.” He nodded toward the stack of papers. “Ginger is very efficient.”

      “I’ve always found her to be a woman of her word.”

      Good to know because The Nanny Network charged a hefty amount of money for the service provided. Everything in life came with a price tag, but you didn’t always know if it would be worth what you paid.

      In the case of his son, he wasn’t disappointed. He’d never known a love like he’d felt when he saw Brady for the first time. And the feeling had multiplied tenfold since he’d brought him home from the hospital. When Catherine had broken the news about the unplanned pregnancy, her next comment was that it would be history soon. Jason couldn’t accept that his child would be removed as if it were nothing more than an inconvenience, an annoyance, a stain on the carpet.

      After intense negotiation and a large settlement, he had a son whose mother received a bonus for signing off all rights to him. He’d have paid her far more than she’d happily taken, but that had been enough to finance plastic surgery or any other physical enhancement to further her acting ambitions. What he hadn’t counted on was how complicated finding competent child care would be.

      “So you finally have my references?” Maggie asked.

      Her voice pulled him back from the memories, and he glanced at her before again scanning the résumé that included very thorough background information. “You’re an orphan?”

      “That would assume my parents are dead. In fact, I don’t know where they are. I never knew them at all. As an infant I was left on the steps of the Good Shepherd Home for Children where I was found by Sister Margaret and Sister Mary.”

      Her tone was so moderate and matter of fact it was several moments before the pieces formed a complete picture. She’d been no bigger than Brady when she was discarded, an annoyance, an inconvenience. “So Margaret Mary Shepherd—”

      She nodded. “I was named after two nuns and a home for abandoned children.”

      It wasn’t often that people surprised him, but he was surprised now. “Forgive me, I don’t know what to say.”

      “That implies you pity me.”

      “No, I—”

      “It’s all right. I consider myself lucky. Everyone was good to me. No one turned me away when I asked for more gruel.” She smiled at her reference to the famous scene in the dark Dickens book. “I had a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in and people who cared about me. I’m healthy and privileged to do a job I love. I didn’t end up in a Dumpster or as a sensational, sad headline in the newspaper. It could so easily have been a story with a tragic ending, but someone cared enough to give me to the sisters.”

      Catherine hadn’t

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