Waters Run Deep. Liz Talley

been too tired. Wanted a shower. And had been more than happy to hand the child over to his mother.

      She’d have never done something so sloppy when she’d been with the Bureau. Of course, she’d never been in charge of a kid. Never had to go undercover. But it had proven to her yet again she wasn’t cut out for raising children. She didn’t have the knack. Her failed almost-marriage to a man with a daughter had proven as much. She and Mallory had been oil and water.

      Spencer looked up at her and smiled. Her heart unwillingly swelled in her chest.

      Damn.

      Okay, so she could see the attraction of kids. They were a pain in the butt, but when they smiled like that, or lay their little heads so trustingly on your shoulder, well, all bets were off on the old ticker. Spencer’s smile did funny things to her.

      She smiled back.

      He went back to work on the puzzle, and his mother turned toward her. “I hope you’re planning on doing a better job of keeping up with my son, Amy. We fired the last nanny, you know.”

      Annie shoved her magazine onto the table crowded with knickknacks as irritation gnawed at her. She needed to grab hold of some coolness. The last nanny had been fired for sexting with her boyfriend while hiding out in the pool cabana during Spencer’s fifth-birthday party over a month ago. It had been an awkward discovery especially since her boyfriend sat right next to her, naked and at attention. Annie really didn’t see sexting in her future.

      Spencer looked up. “Mom, her name is Annie.”

      Tawny wrinkled her nose. “Funny birdie, you remember everything.”

      “Taw—Mrs. Keene, my aim is to take care of Spencer every moment he’s in my care.” She wanted to point out he’d not been in her care when he disappeared. He’d been in his mother’s. Instead she silently counted to ten.

      “He was with you when he went missing, Tawny,” Picou interrupted, licking her thumb and turning the page of her Southern Living magazine.

      Tawny frowned. “Well, she was on duty. Her day ends when Spencer’s does.”

      “But you told her to leave him with you,” Picou persisted, her eyes on the magazine, but her intent clear. “That sends mixed messages. Either he’s with you or he’s with her.”

      Tawny didn’t say anything more. Her silence was almost petulant. She picked up the magazine and her lips started moving as she read silently.

      “Are you ready for bed, Spencer?” Annie asked, hoping to shift the tension in the room. It was tough being on the Keenes’ payroll even though technically she wasn’t. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold her tongue over Tawny’s unreasonable expectations.

      “No,” Spencer said, shaking his head emphatically.

      Tawny dropped her hand onto his head and rubbed his silky brown hair. Her message was unmistakable. Spencer wasn’t going to bed until the actress was ready. For some reason Tawny was hostile to Annie. She’d yet to figure out why the normally bouncy actress went all snake eyes on her.

      Annie shifted in the comfortable armchair and glanced about the room. A floral rug anchored the space beneath a bank of windows that allowed a study of the bricked patio with its still-blooming containers of verbena and begonias. Comfortable, slipcovered furniture scattered the room, with built-in bookcases taking up a whole wall. The room was feminine without being nauseating, and Annie liked it better than any other room she’d seen in the colossal house.

      A huge portrait of the Dufrene boys dominated the space over the fireplace, tripping her thoughts back to the man who’d rattled her today. Nate Dufrene had suspected she was not really a nanny. Almost blew her cover. Thank goodness Ace had the IT guy build her a real-estate site in Nevada. Hopefully, if someone went looking, they’d see Annie Perez as a failed chica real-estate agent desperate to make rent. Outside of the fake career, that’s pretty much what she was anyway. Well, half chica.

      But then again, most “someones” weren’t detectives with prying chocolate eyes and a nose for truth. If Nate poked around too much, he’d discover she’d never sold a house in her life.

      She studied the portrait. Nate’s dark hair had been clipped short and his expression was a mixture of boredom and tolerance. He’d not been happy about sitting still in button-up clothes next to his younger brothers. It was fairly obvious.

      “Those are my sons,” Picou said, catching Annie staring at the portrait. “Nate is the tall one. The others are Abram and Darby.”

      Annie smiled politely. “All nice-looking boys.”

      “Aren’t they? Yet I can’t seem to collect any daughters-in-law, which is a shame. I’d love to have a grandson like Spencer someday.”

      “Like me?” Spencer asked, scrambling to his feet, abandoning the puzzle pieces. He preened and gave the older woman the same dimpled smile his father had been delivering since his Tiger Beat magazine days. Killer.

      Picou’s eyes widened. Yep. Got her.

      The older woman wore a patterned blue caftan, replete with a girlish bow pinned on the side of her platinum hair. It looked utterly ridiculous, but yet, somehow fitting for the matriarch of the Dufrene clan. “Just like you…or a girl might be nice.”

      “A girl? Girls are dumb. They like purses and stuff.” Spencer delivered a disgusted look.

      Annie glanced back at the young Nate and recalled how the older Nate made her feel. Not just apprehensive, but interested. He’d grown into a long, tall, sexy drink of water, his youthful cheeks melting into a lean jaw and whiskered chin. Bright eyes fading to weary. Hair curling just behind his ears. Broad shoulders tapering to square, masculine hands. Yes, the man was on her radar, damn it.

      Why couldn’t her rational mind control her irrational desires?

      It was not like her to feel so attracted to a cop. Or, rather, someone so similar to her. She’d always liked the shy guys, the ones who seemed bumblingly inept, with sweet smiles and simple outlooks on life. Seth had fit the bill.

      Nate Dufrene did not. He felt dangerous. Not biddable. Not sweet and complacent—more like intense, deep water with a strong current.

      Annie had a job to do and the farther she stayed away from Nate Dufrene, the better. She didn’t need him hanging around, chipping away her façade, tempting her with his haunted eyes. Something about him compelled her to draw near when she needed to pull back—especially since she still had to split an astronomical mortgage on a condo with the last mistake she’d made. And that note was due at the end of the month.

      She caught Picou regarding her with a thoughtful expression. Annie pulled her gaze away from both the portrait and Picou. The glint in the woman’s eye made her squirm. Not going to happen, lady. Annie wasn’t barking up that particular tree.

      “Time for bed, Spencer.” This from Tawny.

      Finally.

      Annie rose from the chair and held out her hand. Spencer took it, rubbing his eyes with the other hand while yawning. Once again something warm stole across her heart. He reached up for her to pick him up, so she did, enjoying his arms curling around her neck. He looked back at his mom and Picou. “Mom, Annie’s not in trouble, is she? She told me I could see the gators, but I didn’t wanna wait.”

      Annie froze, her back to Tawny and Picou.

      “Of course not, birdie. And I’ll take you to see the gators, okay?”

      “’Kay,” Spencer murmured, stifling a yawn.

      “Good night, birdie. Love you,” Tawny called as Annie walked to the door. “And goodnight to you, too, Amy.”

      Annie bit off a retort.

      Tawny had gotten that one in on purpose.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      NATE