The Nanny Proposition. Rachel Bailey

For a moment he didn’t understand...and then it all came back.

      Bonnie. His daughter was crying.

      He stumbled out of bed, rubbing his face with one hand and checking he was wearing pajama bottoms with the other. Sharing night feeds with a woman meant making sure he was dressed twenty-four hours a day. He flicked on a light and saw the time—two a.m.—as he headed down the hall.

      Just before he stepped into Bonnie’s nursery, a light came on in the room and he saw Jenna, eyes soft with recent sleep, hair messed from her pillow and a white cotton robe pulled tightly around her body. She reached down and lifted his daughter into her arms as she whispered soothing words. Liam’s heart caught in the middle of his throat, and for a long moment he couldn’t breathe. The image in the soft light of the lamp was like a master’s watercolor. The ethereal beauty of Jenna, her expression of love freely given to his daughter, and Bonnie’s complete trust in return, was almost too much to bear. He couldn’t tear his gaze away.

      Jenna glanced over and gave him a sleepy smile as she soothed Bonnie, and he felt the air in the room change, felt his skin heat.

      Bonnie’s crying eased a little and Jenna said over her head, “She’s hungry. Do you want to hold her while I make up a bottle?”

      He cleared his throat and stepped closer. “Sure.”

      Jenna’s fingers brushed the bare skin of his chest as she laid Bonnie in the crook of his elbow. The urge to hold Jenna’s hand there, against his skin, was overpowering. He stood stock-still, not trusting himself to move. One thing was apparent—pajama bottoms weren’t enough. For future feeds he’d have to minimize skin contact by making sure he also was wearing a shirt.

      She gave Bonnie a little pat on the arm, then moved through the door and down the stairs. He followed, mesmerized by the gentle sway of her hips under her thin, white robe, but he purposefully drew his attention back to where it should be—the baby in his arms.

      Stroking his crying daughter’s arms in the same soothing motion Jenna had used, he followed Jenna into the kitchen and waited while she made up a bottle. She worked smoothly in his kitchen, as if she’d done this a hundred times before. Of course, she must have done exactly that for her own child. Had anyone else ever watched her and thought it was seductive? Her movements were simple, efficient, but with such natural grace it was almost as if she were dancing.

      He was losing his focus again, damn it.

      Was it the intimacy of the night that caused his reaction to his nanny? Normally the only women he saw at two o’clock in the morning—especially ones with sleep-tousled hair—were women he was involved with. Not that he often saw them here in his house. He preferred liaisons that didn’t have too much of an impact on his personal life or intrude into his personal space. Dylan had once pointed out that Liam’s philosophy was emotionally cold, but that had never bothered him—he wasn’t naïve enough to think the women he dated were looking for emotional fulfillment or promises of forever.

      Besides, women weren’t interested in the real him, the man who was passionate about science and breeding new, unusual flowers, the man who had no time for the trappings of wealth beyond the security it could provide his family.

      His oldest brother Adam had suggested that Liam had turned it into a self-fulfilling prophecy by choosing women he knew were attracted to him for his money or his looks, keeping things superficial and ending relationships before he allowed himself to be emotionally invested. Liam had ignored his brother—he was perfectly happy with things as they were. He’d never wake up to find he’d let his guard down and he’d fallen in love with someone who was using him for his wealth or had been merely entertaining herself with some twisted game the women he knew always seemed to be playing.

      He leaned back against the counter and raised an impatient Bonnie to his shoulder. “Shh,” he whispered. “It won’t be long now.”

      He wasn’t sure what game Bonnie’s mother had been playing. Her family was wealthy so she hadn’t needed his money, but the very fact that she hadn’t told him that she was pregnant showed she hadn’t been a woman he could have trusted.

      “Okay, sweetheart,” Jenna said, turning her blue, blue gaze back to them. “Your bottle is ready. How about we go back to your lovely armchair to have it?”

      She stroked her fingertips across Bonnie’s head as she passed on her way to the hallway, and suddenly—and against all his advice to himself—Liam was in the ridiculous position of being jealous of a baby.

      * * *

      Warm bottle in her hand, Jenna rubbed her scratchy eyes and walked down the second-story hallway. Even though it hadn’t been long since Meg had started sleeping through the night, she’d forgotten how demanding night feeds were.

      As she reached Bonnie’s nursery, she paused and asked over her shoulder, “Would you like to feed her or shall I?”

      Liam cleared his throat. “You do this one. I’m still watching your technique with these things.”

      She nodded and settled into the armchair. She understood. Liam didn’t strike her as the jump-in-with-two-feet sort of man—he was a scientist. He’d want to gather all the information first so he’d be best placed to succeed when he did attempt something new. She’d felt his gaze on her in the kitchen as if he were trying to memorize the method of preparing his daughter’s bottle. Having the gorgeous Liam Hawke watch her every move was...unsettling, but obviously it would be part of the job as she taught him the skills to look after his baby and helped him bond with her. Surely she’d get used to it with time. A shiver ran up her spine, but she ignored it.

      “You can pass her over now,” she said, keeping her voice even.

      As he leaned down, his bare chest came within inches of her face, and the scent of his skin washed over her. She took a deep breath to steady herself, but that only intensified the effect, leaving her lightheaded. Thankfully, he didn’t linger as he deposited the squirming weight of Bonnie into her arms and stepped away.

      As soon as Jenna gave the baby the bottle, she stopped flailing, all her energy focused on drinking. Jenna couldn’t contain the smile as she took in the sheer perfection of this tiny girl.

      Liam was silent for long moments, then he crossed his arms over that naked chest. “How are you finding motherhood?”

      Such a loaded question. Thinking of Meg when she was Bonnie’s age, Jenna lifted the baby a little higher and breathed in her newborn scent, then murmured, “It’s more than I expected.”

      “More in what way?” His voice was low, curious.

      “In every way,” she said. “It’s more challenging and more wondrous than I’d ever expected.”

      He leaned a hip against the chest of drawers. “Does Meg’s father help?”

      “No,” she said carefully. “Her father’s not on the scene.”

      He cocked his head to the side, his attention firmly focused on her now, not Bonnie. “Do you have family nearby to help?”

      “It’s really just me and Meg.” Her pulse picked up speed at the half-truth, and she cast around for a new topic before she spilled all her secrets to this man in the quiet of the night. “So Bonnie’s mother really didn’t tell you she was pregnant?”

      He scrubbed a hand down his face, and then looked out the window into the inky night. “I had no idea until I got the call from the hospital. Rebecca and I had broken up eight months ago and hadn’t been in contact since. The next thing I knew, the hospital was calling to tell me that my ex-girlfriend had given birth to our daughter a couple of days ago and that Rebecca wasn’t in a good way and was asking for me. But before we got to the hospital, she had passed away. They showed me Bonnie—” he cleared his throat “I took one look at her and...couldn’t walk away. I’m sure you understand,” he said gruffly.

      Her mind overflowing with memories of her own, Jenna looked down at the baby who had caused