Taming The Beast. Amy Fetzer J.

best time to curl up with a book and dream. And what did a little girl dream about, she wondered, especially one who’d lost her mother and was about to come to an isolated island and meet the father she didn’t know she had.

      She dreamed of a prince to keep her safe, Laura thought.

      Not a dragon who breathed fire when anyone dared step into his cave.

      His back braced against the door, Richard closed his eyes, her image locked in his mind and refusing to leave. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. The kind of woman who made heads turn, men stumble over themselves and women envy them. And just to look into her jade-green eyes made him feel every scar with fresh stinging pain. It was like dangling candy before a starving man. Offer him the sweet, yet deny him a taste.

      He could bearly tolerate her being here, in his home, in his sanctuary. Just knowing she was near would drive him mad, he thought, and he wanted to strangle Katherine Davenport for sending him such an exquisite female. Didn’t Kat realize he hadn’t been near a woman since the accident? And until this morning he didn’t even have a name to reference, only Katherine’s word that she’d found someone who was qualified. He hadn’t been able to do a deep probe of her past, and although he’d found only a portion of it, there were no photographs of her, not that he’d needed them once he’d learned about her pageant wins. Still, it was as if she didn’t want that pretty face to be seen. He had good reason for that, but what was hers?

      She was still gorgeous at thirty.

      Damn. He’d been specific on his requirements for a nanny—matronly, strong and healthy enough to chase after a four-year-old and one who understood that the responsibility of Kelly would be hers. He couldn’t let Kelly see him. Not ever. The child would run from him, and Richard knew he couldn’t take that. Not again. People shunned him because of his disfigurement. He wasn’t about to scare a child.

      Kelly. Richard clenched his fists. A child he hadn’t known existed until a couple of weeks ago when his wife was killed. It seems he was only good enough to care for his own child when there was no other option. He cursed Andrea again and again for not telling him she was carrying his child when she left him. God, how he’d needed to know that four years ago, for something to hold on to in his world of surgeries and recovery and the hard reality that nothing could be done to change his torn body.

      Pushing away from the door, Richard picked up the phone, punching a number with a vengeance.

      “Wife Incorporated. Katherine Davenport speaking.”

      “Dammit, Kat, she’s beautiful.” Breathtaking, exotic, he added silently, remembering every curve of her body in the tailored white suit.

      “So, you came out of your lair long enough to actually look?”

      “Why did you do this?”

      Her sigh was audible. “Laura is one of the kindest women I know. And I didn’t do it for you, sugah. I did it for Kelly. Laura loves children, and she’s worked with kids before. She has all the qualifications you wanted. She’s educated, but not so much that she can’t talk to a child. Besides, she’s fun and creative. Give her a chance.”

      “I don’t have a choice. Kelly arrives in two days.”

      “It will work out, Richard.”

      “Find someone else, immediately. I don’t want her here.”

      There was a pause on the line, and when Katherine spoke her voice was crisp and cool. “Andrea should have told you about Kelly, I will agree with that, and if I hadn’t sworn an oath not to tell you, I would have. But when she said she’d left you because you’d turned cold and mean, I couldn’t believe it. I see now that she was right.”

      Richard felt as if she’d slapped him. “Andrea left because she couldn’t handle the repercussions of the accident. She wanted me to look the same and act the same. It was never going to happen. And it never is.” He drew in a breath. “Find someone else.” He hung up the phone without saying goodbye, his fingers tightening on the receiver before he released it and moved behind his desk.

      He dropped in the leather chair and swung it around to face the window. The sun struggled to push through the clouds and sparkle on the river, and Richard forced the memories back, banishing the accident, the tearing pain, and Andrea’s reaction when they’d taken off the bandages. Horror. Repugnance. He’d always felt Andrea would be there, beside him, and he was stunned when she left. He should have seen it coming when she wouldn’t share his bed, wouldn’t touch him after the accident. He saw her revulsion every time he reached for her. The night before the crash was the last time he’d felt the tender wash of pleasure with a woman.

      And now a woman voted most beautiful in the state was living in his house. It didn’t matter that it was ten years ago, she could still stop traffic.

      The knock was so soft he almost didn’t hear it.

      “Mr. Blackthorne.”

      Something slammed through him at the sound of her voice, so southern and delicate. He almost hated her for it. “I said I would summon—”

      “Gee, last I recall, my job description required that I take care of your daughter, not you. So you can summon and demand all you like, my lord—”

      “I pay your salary.”

      “Big deal.”

      He arched a brow and twisted around to glare at the door.

      “And didn’t your mother teach you it was rude to interrupt a lady?”

      “Didn’t you learn diplomacy in the State Department?”

      “Yes, but this is not foreign soil, and you can’t claim diplomatic immunity.”

      Fighting a smile, Richard leaned his head back into the leather chair. “What do you want?”

      “Aah, the negotiation stage,” she said with relish. “Now, unless that rather bland pile of groceries in the fridge and freezer is your idea of a balanced diet, I think I need to do the menu planning.”

      “Fine. Order whatever you like.”

      Laura sighed and let her head loll forward. What a difficult man. She jiggled the tray, letting the beautiful china clink. “Hear that? It’s dishes, with food on them,” she said enticingly.

      “Leave it at the door.”

      She blinked. “Excuse me?”

      “Surely you heard, Miss Cambridge, the door is not that thick.”

      “Apparently your head is,” she muttered.

      “Set it on the floor and leave.”

      Laura set it down, and when she straightened, she glared at the wood, determined to get him out of that cave. “We are going to have a real hard time at this, Mr. Blackthorne.”

      “Only if you break the rules.”

      “And they are?”

      “I will e-mail them to you on your computer.”

      “My, how positively sterile.”

      “It’s the only way,” he said softly when he heard her footsteps on the staircase.

      Richard rubbed his forehead, his fingertips grazing the scars, and he cursed, thrust out of his chair and began pacing. Grinding his teeth, he wondered how he was going to survive with that gorgeous mouthy fantasy strutting around his house.

      Laura did the dishes with a vengeance. She shouldn’t be so upset. What was it to her if he stayed in his sanctuary and brooded? But Kelly would come into this. She couldn’t let a child who was expecting to see her daddy, feel the instant exclusion Richard Blackthorne dealt with a few choice words. He wanted no contact whatsoever.

      We will just see about that, she thought, throwing a load of laundry in the washer and deciding to investigate the house. Her sneakers squeaked