Nanny Makes Three. Cat Schield

      

       “I should have just slept with him,” she murmured, the declaration sounding unbearably loud in the silent house.

      Then at least she’d have a good reason to regret her actions.

      “It’s not too late to change your mind,” a low male voice said from the doorway.

      Startled, Hadley whirled in Liam’s direction. Heat seared her cheeks. “I thought you went out.”

      “I did, but it wasn’t any fun without you.” He advanced toward her, his intent all too clear.

      When his arms went around her, pulling her tight against his strong body, Hadley stopped resisting. This was what she wanted. Why fight against something that felt this right?

      “Kiss me quick before I change my mind,” she told him, her head falling back so she could meet his gaze. “And don’t stop.”

      * * *

      Nanny Makes Three is part of the series Texas Cattleman’s Club: Lies and Lullabies—Baby secrets and a scheming sheikh rock Royal, Texas.

      CAT SCHIELD has been reading and writing romance since high school. Although she graduated from college with a BA in business, her idea of a perfect career was writing books for Mills & Boon. And now, after winning the Romance Writers of America 2010 Golden Heart^® Award for series contemporary romance, that dream has come true. Cat lives in Minnesota with her daughter, Emily and their Burmese cat. When she’s not writing sexy, romantic stories for Mills & Boon Desire, she can be found sailing with friends on the St. Croix River, or in more exotic locales, like the Caribbean and Europe. She loves to hear from readers. Find her at www.catschield.net. Follow her on Twitter @catschield.

      Nanny Makes

      Three

      Cat Schield

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      For Jeff and Roxanne Schall of Shada Arabians

      CONTENTS

       Cover

       Introduction

       About the Author

       Title Page

       Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

       Five

       Six

       Seven

       Eight

       Nine

       Ten

       Eleven

       Twelve

       Thirteen

       Copyright

       One

      Shortly after the 6:00 a.m. feeding, Liam Wade strode through the barn housing the yearling colts and fillies, enjoying the peaceful crunching of hay and the occasional equine snort. It was January 1, and because of the way horses were classified for racing and showing purposes, regardless of their calendar age, every horse in every stall on the ranch was now officially a year older.

      Dawn of New Year’s Day had never been a time of reflection for Liam. Usually he was facedown in a beautiful woman’s bed, sleeping like the dead after an evening of partying and great sex. Last year that had changed. He’d left the New Year’s Eve party alone.

      His cell phone buzzed in his back pocket, and he pulled it out. The message from his housekeeper made him frown.

      There’s a woman at the house who needs to speak to you.

      Liam couldn’t imagine what sort of trouble had come knocking on his door this morning. He texted back that he was on his way and retraced his steps to his Range Rover.

      As he drove up, he saw an unfamiliar gray Ford Fusion in the driveway near the large Victorian house Liam’s great-great-grandfather had built during the last days of the nineteenth century. Liam and his twin brother, Kyle, had grown up in this seven-bedroom home, raised by their grandfather after their mother headed to Dallas to create her real estate empire.

      Liam parked and turned off the engine. A sense of foreboding raised the hair on his arms, and he wondered at his reluctance to get out of the truck. He’d enjoyed how peaceful the last year had been. A strange woman showing up at the crack of dawn could only mean trouble.

      Slipping from behind the wheel, Liam trotted across the drought-dry lawn and up the five steps that led to the wraparound porch. The stained glass windows set into the double doors allowed light to filter into the wide entry hall, but prevented him from seeing inside. Thus, it wasn’t until Liam pushed open the door that he saw the infant car seat off to one side of the hall. As that was registering, a baby began to wail from the direction of the living room.

      The tableau awaiting him in the high-ceilinged room was definitely the last thing he’d expected. Candace, his housekeeper, held a squalling infant and was obviously trying to block the departure of a stylish woman in her late fifties.

      “Liam will be here any second,” Candace was saying. With her focus split between the child and the blonde woman in the plum wool coat, his housekeeper hadn’t noticed his arrival.

      “What’s going on?” Liam questioned, raising his voice slightly to be heard above the unhappy baby.

      The relief on Candace’s face was clear. “This is Diane Garner. She’s here about her granddaughter.”

      “You’re Liam Wade?” the woman demanded, her tone an accusation.

      “Yes.” Liam was completely bewildered by her hostility. He didn’t recognize her name or her face.

      “My daughter is dead.”

      “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

      “She