The Nanny's Secret. Elizabeth Lane

the leather seat. The subtle heat of his grip lingered as she fastened her safety belt. Her pulse was racing. As he strode around the vehicle and swung into the driver’s seat, she willed herself to take deep breaths. Wyatt Richardson was a compellingly attractive man, capable of making her hormones surge with a glance from those unearthly blue eyes. But Leigh knew better than to go down that road. Let him get close enough to discover the truth about her, and she’d be up the proverbial creek.

      And she wouldn’t be the only one in trouble.

      As the engine purred to life, she settled back into the seat. “So your daughter’s in the hospital. When did she have the baby?”

      “Yesterday morning. An easy birth, or so I was told. She and the baby are doing fine. They should be ready to leave sometime tomorrow.”

      “What about the girl’s mother? Is she in town to be with her daughter and see her grandchild?”

      He winced as if she’d stuck him with something sharp. “Her mother’s in Chicago with her new husband. Evidently the marriage is on shaky ground. That’s why she chartered a plane for Chloe last week and sent her to me.”

      “I’m sorry, but that’s monstrous.”

      “Don’t judge her too harshly. The situation has us all thrown. I didn’t even know Chloe was pregnant till the girl climbed out of a taxi and rang my front doorbell. Frankly, I’m still in shock.”

      And what about your poor daughter? Leigh thought it but she didn’t say it. For now, at least, she’d be wise to tread lightly.

      He turned onto the side road that led to the county hospital. “I didn’t mean to dump all this on you before you met the girl. But at least you’ll know what you could be getting into. Chloe’s been through a devil of a time. And aside from taking her in and hiring somebody for the baby, I don’t know how to help her through this.”

      “It sounds as if you care, at least. That should count for something.”

      A bitter laugh rumbled in his throat. “Say that to Chloe. She’ll tell you that my caring’s come about fifteen years too late.”

      He swung the Hummer into the parking lot and pulled into an empty space. After walking around to open the door on Leigh’s side, he held up his arms. Taking her cue from him, she placed her hands on his muscled shoulders. His grip around her waist was brief as he lowered her to the ground. But as he released her, their eyes met. His were sunk into weary shadows—the eyes of a man who’d spent some sleepless nights. A worried man, unsure, perhaps, for the first time in his life.

      For the space of a breath his big hand lingered on her hip. As if suddenly aware, he pulled it away and took her arm. “Let’s go inside,” he said.

      Leigh was familiar with the hospital, a sprawling one-story maze of wings and hallways. Having visited several friends there, she knew her way to the maternity ward. “Were you here when the baby was born?” she asked as Wyatt walked beside her.

      “I was wrapping up a meeting and missed the delivery, but I saw Chloe in recovery. They’d given her an epidural for the birth. She was still groggy when I left. She probably won’t even remember I was there.”

      Leigh glanced down a side hall where the nursery windows were located. She was hoping to see the baby for a moment, but Wyatt kept walking on down the corridor, checking the room numbers. He paused outside a door that was slightly ajar. “I guess this is it.”

      “Go on in,” Leigh said. “I’ll wait out here until you’re ready to introduce me.”

      Murmuring his thanks, he squared his shoulders, knocked lightly on the door and stepped into the room.

      * * *

      Chloe was sitting up in bed, peering into a small, round mirror as she dabbed mascara onto her eyelashes. With her mop of auburn curls, she looked like a little girl playing with her mom’s makeup. How could this child be a mother?

      “Hello, sweetheart,” he said.

      “Hello, Daddy.” Her voice was edgy. The bouquet of pink roses he’d sent earlier had been shoved into a space above the sink.

      Wyatt cleared his throat. “I’m told you have a beautiful little boy. How are you feeling?”

      “How do you think?” She twisted the top onto the mascara tube. “I texted my friends. They’re coming by to see the baby. His name’s Michael, by the way. Mikey for now.”

      “Did you call your mother?”

      She shrugged. “I sent a text. She’s on her way to New York with Andre. He has some kind of gallery show.”

      “So she’s not coming to see the baby?”

      “Why should she? Mom’s still in denial about being a grandma. Anyway, who needs her?” Chloe fished a lipstick out of her purse and swiped the burgundy hue onto her cupid’s bow mouth.

      Wyatt lowered himself onto a handy chair. “We need to talk, Chloe.”

      “What’s to talk about?” She looked at him warily, as if bracing herself for a fight. “You already know I’m going to keep him.”

      Yes, she’d made that completely clear, despite his many arguments against it. But he wouldn’t rehash that now, not when he could see how tired she looked. “I understand. And I hope you know that you and Mikey will have a home with me for as long as you need it. But what about the rest? Have you ever taken care of a baby?”

      Her sky-blue eyes cast him a blank look.

      “For starters...” He wrestled with the delicate question that needed to be asked. “How are you going to feed him?”

      Her eyes widened. “You mean, am I...? OMG, no way! I’m not going around with saggy boobs for the rest of my life—and I do plan to have a life, Daddy. I want my baby, but you can’t expect me to sit home with him all the time. As soon as you buy me a car, I’m going to—”

      “The car can wait.” It was all Wyatt could do to keep from snapping at her. “Meanwhile you’ve got a child to take care of. Do you even know how to change a diaper?”

      She stared at him as if he’d just climbed out of a flying saucer.

      “Goodness, Daddy. What do you think we’re getting a nanny for?”

      * * *

      Waiting outside the half-opened door, Leigh heard everything. Wyatt had given her an inkling of what to expect. Now the impact of what she’d be dealing with smacked her full in the face. She could see what he’d meant when he’d said she’d have two children in her care. And Chloe sounded like a handful. Only the thought of the baby kept her from turning around and walking out of the hospital.

      Seconds later he reappeared in the doorway, his face a mask of frustration. “Sorry you had to hear that,” he muttered.

      “It’s just as well that I did.” Following his lead, she allowed him to usher into the room. Chloe was sitting up against the pillows. Even in the drab hospital gown she looked like a petite little doll with Shirley Temple curls and china-blue eyes—almost as blue as her father’s.

      “Chloe,” Wyatt said, “this is Miss Foster. Unless you have some objection, I plan on asking her to become your son’s nanny.”

      The girl scrutinized her carefully. Leigh wondered what she was looking for. Chloe seemed to be wondering the same thing as uncertainty passed over her face. She stole a glance at her father, but he seemed to be replying to a message on his phone. “Fine,” the girl said, clearly trying too hard to sound authoritative. “She’ll do.”

      “Thank you.” The less said, the better, Leigh resolved.

      Chloe glanced toward the door, where the nurse had appeared with a blue-wrapped bundle. “I hope you’re not staying much longer,” she said. “My friends are coming over to see Mikey, and they’ll be here any minute.”