Falling For The Nanny. Barbara McMahon

the door for Claire and she smiled at him, said, “Thanks,” a little breathlessly, and Matt’s blood pressure rose.

      He handed Bella into the limo and Claire strapped her in the car seat as he settled on the seat across from her. A bit miffed that she’d sort of flirted with Jimmy again, he decided not to talk to her.

      But after ten minutes of silence in the car, he realized she wasn’t talking to him.

      His heart squeezed. But he ran his hand down his face. This was ridiculous. They’d both outlined very good reasons why they should stay away from each other. Hadn’t his heart and hormones been paying attention?

      Claire tapped on the round padded thing that kept Bella securely in the car seat. “Hey, sweet girl.”

      The baby gurgled a laugh.

      “We should have remembered to bring something for her to play with.”

      He grudgingly peeked over. “Like what?”

      “She came with a bear and I bought her two rattles and a chew toy. They’re in her diaper bag.”

      “We’ll give them to her when we get back.”

      She smiled. “Okay.”

      He simmered. She seemed very happy. Relaxed. Almost as if their kiss hadn’t happened. Or maybe she was happy that they’d cleared the air between them?

      Well, fine. He was happy, too. God knew he had a million other things to think about, worry about, stress over, if he wanted to be stressed.

      His already unhappy family had been increased by four half siblings. The children his real father had had with the woman he married after Matt’s mother had returned to New York. And he had to meet those people in nine short days. For his sisters’ sake, he’d promised to be nice.

      If he wanted to obsess over anything, he should be figuring how he intended to keep his promise to Ellie, Charlotte and Alex. Having all recently settled down—Charlotte with a baby even—they were now all about family and wanted him to be part of that, too. He shouldn’t be worried that the current woman in his company was the first woman in a long time to not only reject him, but also to stand up to him.

      Great. Now he was thinking about her again.

      Maybe the mistake was agreeing to let her spend the night…

      In the little room next to his bedroom…

      This was going to be peachy.

CHAPTER FIVE

      BY THE time they arrived at the mansion, it was dark. Jimmy drove the limo into the garage, and as soon as it stopped, Claire reached for the buckles and snaps to free Bella.

      She carried Bella to the door as if she’d been to his house a million times, walked through and headed to the kitchen.

      Matt stayed on her heels, not exactly sure what he was supposed to do. She took a bottle from the diaper bag, rinsed it, filled it with milk and walked out of the kitchen up the hall, toward the curved stairway in the foyer. “First a bath, then some milk, then it’s into bed with you, Missy.”

      “It’s only eight.”

      Walking up the stairs, she faced Matt. “She’s a baby. Babies go to bed early.”

      “Did you ever stop to think that if you kept her up until ten, she’d sleep through the night?”

      “You’re wishful thinking.”

      She walked into his bedroom and stopped at the three side-by-side doors along the left wall. “Which door?”

      “For?”

      “The bathroom. She needs a bath, remember?”

      “Middle one.”

      She opened the door onto his master bath, and though she started to step in confidently, her foot faltered. “Good God.”

      He ambled up behind her. “What?”

      He didn’t think it was the Italian marble floor that stopped her. The double sinks were special, especially since there was a waterfall that ran down the brown, gray and white stone tiles behind them. But they didn’t usually earn a gasp. The huge shower was cool. He loved the showerhead that felt like rain and the jets that shot water out of any side or corner of the shower he wanted, but most people didn’t notice the wonders of the shower until they were in it.

      So, she had to be gaping at the old-fashioned claw-foot tub.

      Sitting on a one-foot marble rise with a solid-gold faucet, beneath a skylight that probably right now had a great view of the stars, the tub could be a showstopper.

      “You bathe in that?”

      “Well, I don’t want to walk around smelling like a wildebeest.”

      “I guess you feel like Napoleon when you’re sitting in that thing.”

      “Actually, I fancy myself more like Julius Caesar.” Happy to finally be in control again, he said, “I light a cigar, lay my arms along the rims, put my head back and look at the stars.”

      She cautiously walked over to the tub. Her head craned back until she saw the skylight. “Ah.”

      He snuck up behind her, whispered in her ear. “Pretty nifty, isn’t it?”

      “This bathroom is bigger than my entire apartment.”

      “Want to see the rain shower?”

      She faced him, swallowing. “I’d just like to see a normal tub where I could bathe a baby.”

      “She’d probably fit in the bowl sinks.”

      “In front of the waterfall?” She glanced around again. “Sheesh. Man. Do you really need all this stuff?”

      “It’s my reward.”

      “Well, you must have worked your butt off to feel you deserved all this.”

      “I did. And it makes me happy.”

      It really did. Being in this room reminded him that this was what he’d been working for his whole life. The freedom to live his life as he wanted. His mom had lied to him about Cedric being his father. He’d never felt he fit into his own family. He had even become distant from his sisters, who didn’t care about real dads and pretend dads and bloodlines or lies. But he fit here. He was happy here. And some five-foot-seven slip of a woman wasn’t going to make him “think” he wanted something else out of life. Especially not after only a few hours.

      Besides, she was here to help him with the baby, to show him the ropes. He didn’t want to waste this opportunity.

      He strolled over to the first sink where she ran water while she pulled out a diaper and one-piece sleeper from the diaper bag one-handed.

      “Here. Let me hold her.”

      Not meeting his gaze, she handed the baby to him. “Thanks.” When the baby was securely on his arm, she said, “Is the linen closet around here?”

      “What do you need?”

      “Towels. A washcloth.”

      He walked over to the corner, pressed a button and the wall opened. He pulled out two fluffy white towels and a washcloth. “Here you are.”

      While he was gone, she’d removed a pink bottle, a little yellow bottle and a taller white container from the diaper bag.

      “What are those?”

      Taking the baby from him again, she said, “Lotions and powder. Baby wash. Nothing special.”

      He frowned. Had that been a quaver in her voice?

      “Are you okay?”

      Removing