A Nanny Under the Mistletoe. Raye Morgan

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A Nanny Under the Mistletoe - Raye Morgan Mills & Boon Cherish

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at Libby, then Morgan, she said, “It was nice to meet you both. For what it’s worth, I think Jess will be a really good dad.”

      On what planet? Libby wanted to ask. But Elena was gone before she could say the words even if she dared.

      Libby blew out a breath. “I can truthfully say that nothing like that has ever happened to me before.”

      “I bet she drinks lots of milk,” Morgan commented.

      “Why?” Jess and Libby asked together.

      “Because her hair is shiny. She has nice teeth and is big and strong.” Morgan looked wistfully toward the front door. “She’s pretty. I want that color hair. And when I grow up, I hope my boobs are like hers.”

      Jess looked as horrified as Libby felt but she was pretty sure it was for a different reason. Libby was already a woman and there was no chance of her growing into the “assets” necessary to get Jess’s attention.

      Jess wondered which of the gods he’d pissed off and, more important, what sacrifice it would take to get them off his back. While Libby supervised Morgan’s bath and bedtime rituals, he was in the morning room downing his second beer.

      When this child fell into his lap, he’d known life would change, but he hadn’t counted on parts of the old one creeping in. Elena looked good, no question about that. She was fun, flirty and fantastic in bed. Part of the fun was her showing up without warning. That was exciting, or at least it used to be. Her goodbye said they were over and he would have understood even if she hadn’t returned the key.

      The thing was, it didn’t bother him, which bothered him more than anything. That was just wrong and he blamed a petite, blue-eyed blonde who didn’t seem at all intimidated or impressed by his wealth and power.

      He blamed her because she had the damnedest way of creeping into his thoughts at inconvenient times. Board meetings. Business lunches. Phone calls. It was difficult to concentrate when a memory of her tart comments made him smile. Or the way she caught her top lip between her teeth sent his thoughts to kissing first that lip and then the bottom one to see for himself how she tasted.

      And suddenly he sensed her behind him. Although she didn’t make a sound, he knew she was there. The hair at his nape prickled and his skin felt too tight. That happened when normal blood flow was involuntarily diverted to points south. This was the last thing he wanted or needed.

      “Jess? Can I talk to you?”

      The last time they’d talked in here was chicken-nugget night. Libby had given him a crash course in child-speak. She’d encouraged him to engage Morgan in conversation and complimented him on what was right with his style. Then he’d seen the light in her eyes dim and extinguish because he’d disappointed her. Libby was a grown-up, but Morgan wasn’t. What if he let her down? He was pretty sure conversing with the kid didn’t include her sharing that she wanted a big bosom and red hair when she grew up. So he’d already failed her.

      Libby didn’t understand why family was a hot button for him. How could he explain that love had cost him the only family he had? She wouldn’t understand that promises made and broken were what destroyed all he thought he knew about love and loyalty. He wanted to say no to the talking, but knew that wasn’t an option.

      “Why don’t you have a seat?” he suggested, turning to meet her gaze.

      “No, thanks. This won’t take long.”

      “Okay. Shoot.”

      The choice of words was unfortunate because he suspected Libby would very much like to do just that. After Elena left and Morgan said what she said, her nanny had glared at him in a way that could reduce a lesser man to a brown stain on the rug.

      “Is Morgan settled?” he asked.

      “That’s a good question.”

      Here we go, he thought. “What’s wrong?”

      The look on her face told him what he already knew—stupid question. “Let’s start with the naked woman in your bed.”

      In his obviously flawed judgment, she sounded jealous, and the idea of that had some merit. “If we’re going to discuss this rationally, let’s get the facts straight. We don’t know if she was naked and I have no independent confirmation that she was in my bed.”

      “You know what I mean.”

      “I really don’t.” It wasn’t easy to remember innocence, but he put as much as possible into his voice and expression.

      Jess was baiting her, plain and simple. He was deliberately agitating her because, as stupid as it sounded, she was beautiful when she was angry. More beautiful, he amended. Not in the classic, statuesque, turn-a-man’s-head way Elena was. But in a down-to-earth way that was more appealing than he would have ever believed.

      “Okay.” She put her hands on her hips, drawing his attention to curves that made his palms tingle. “Let me put it like this. Morgan could have walked into a scene featuring a naked woman in your bed. It’s not something I want to explain to her. Do you?” She paused thoughtfully and tapped a finger to her lips. “Oh, wait, you’re the guy who doesn’t do kid talk at all which would make explaining sex to a five-year-old—”

      “Almost six,” he pointed out.

      “Right. Because a couple months would solve the problem entirely.”

      Definitely beautiful, he thought. “The situation was awkward, I’ll admit that. But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. So, I guess I’m wondering what you want me to do.”

      She blew out a breath. “And I guess I’m wondering how many more keys are out there? How many more of your women are going to show up unexpectedly?”

      Elena was the only flight attendant he dated. He’d given her a key because it was convenient for both of them. She’d have a place to stay when she was in Las Vegas and he enjoyed her showing up out of the blue.

      He could tell Libby there were no more women, but then they’d have nothing left to talk about. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he wasn’t quite ready for this conversation to be over. Scratching his head he said, “It’s hard to put an exact figure on it.”

      “Figure being the operative word.” Sarcasm surrounded every syllable.

      “No pun intended.” Again he let his expression ooze innocence. “So Morgan had some questions?”

      “I managed to do damage control. This time.”

      “How?”

      Her eyes narrowed and the expression was sexy as hell. “She’s still young and naïve enough to believe that people look past a woman’s appearance to find her inner beauty.”

      Her emphasis on the word people told him she really meant men. Truthfully, the kid’s comment about growing up had freaked him out big time. “I’m glad you were able to smooth things over.”

      “Is it necessary for me to point out that boobalicious babes arriving without warning is going to be a problem the older Morgan gets?”

      “I will take appropriate

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