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Gail nodded. “If you think this is bad, you should see SpaghettiOs.”
“You mean canned spaghetti?” he asked in horror.
Gail winced and chuckled. “Oops. Have I just deeply offended your Italian sensibilities? Sorry, but round noodles are great toddler food.” She wiped off Molly’s face and the baby began to protest. Gail put the paper towel in front of Molly’s face and whipped it away. “Peekaboo,” she said, and Molly smiled, reaching for the towel.
Nicholas envied Gail’s ease with his daughter. Although he had hired Gail for the sole purpose of caring for Molly, he still wished he didn’t feel so damned incompetent with his own daughter. As Gail lifted Molly from her high chair, he noticed ice cream on the front of the child’s pajamas. “Be careful,” he said. “She’ll get ice cream on you.”
Gail looked down and shrugged. “No problem. I’m not prissy.”
That she wasn’t. Nicholas was not accustomed to un-prissy women. He followed Gail up the steps, his gaze caught by the sway of her cute rear end in jeans. Remembering the sight of her bare bottom, he imagined her athletic frame naked. He suspected she would appear more toned than muscle-bound. Those thighs would wrap around a man—
He bit back an oath. This was his daughter’s nanny, for Pete’s sake. And she wasn’t even his type. She was different from the perfectly coiffed women he dated. Her hair was wild. She couldn’t completely tame it even when she pulled it back. A forbidden, instinctive image of Gail naked, with her red hair flying free, her face full of ecstasy, stole into his mind.
He frowned and bit back another oath. Maybe it had been too long since he’d taken a woman to bed. Although he’d continued to attend public events with beautiful women, he’d been too distracted about becoming a father to focus on his sexual needs.
Nicholas ruthlessly pushed his disturbing thoughts aside as he joined Gail in the nursery bathroom. Gail turned the water on full force in the tub.
“How was the game?”
“Thank you for asking. We won, of course,” she said, a hint of competitiveness glinting in her eyes.
“Of course,” he said. “Does that mean you never lose?”
“You have to be careful with the words ‘never’ and ‘always,’” she said, starting to undress Molly. “But we’ve been undefeated for three years. It’s a co-ed team, and the guys don’t hesitate to blast the women when we’re not aggressive enough.”
“And there’s no one guy who is significant to you?”
“They’re all special,” she said, bending down to test the water, then place Molly in the tub. “But to them I’m just one of the guys.”
“They can’t be that blind,” Nicholas said.
She looked at him and smiled. “That was very nice, thank you. Speaking of significant others, what about you?”
“Molly is the only significant female in my present and future,” he said, feeling a faint twist of bitterness when he thought of Molly’s mother.
“But what about your romantic future? Surely there’s someone who could be special to you.”
“Nothing long term,” Nicholas said. “I’m committed to keeping my relationships with women short term. I’m up-front about it, so there are no hard feelings.”
Gail gave a snort of disbelief. “Yeah, right,” she said as she washed Molly’s belly.
“You don’t believe me,” he said, oddly affronted by her response. “I’m completely clear about my intentions with a woman. No one is left wondering.”
“Maybe not wondering, but hoping,” she said, and rinsed Molly.
“Hoping for what?”
“Hoping you’ll fall madly in love with her,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Hard-earned cynicism cut through him. “I’ll never fall madly in love with a woman again. There’s no such thing as a happy ending.”
Gail’s eyebrows knitted together as if she didn’t approve of his opinion but was holding her tongue. Nicholas suspected she found it difficult to hold her tongue when she had a strong opinion. She lifted Molly from the tub and wrapped her in a towel. In one smooth motion, she plopped his daughter in his arms. “I don’t know,” Gail mused aloud, glancing pointedly at Molly. “Looks to me like you got the winning hand this time.”
Nicholas looked into the innocent wide eyes of his squirmy, damp daughter and felt his heart expand with protectiveness and love. He smiled at Molly. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
Later that week Gail met Nicholas in the kitchen as he pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator. His afternoon had been jam-packed with meetings to solve production problems. He was so tense his neck muscles felt like rubber bands pulled taut.
At her smile he felt the tension in him ease.
“Welcome home. I hate to jump you as soon as you walk in the door.”
His neck tightened again. “A problem?”
“Not really,” she said, lifting a picture frame she’d held by her side. “I just have a special request. I need a photograph of you.”
“Why?” he asked, taking a deep gulp of the water.
“To put in Molly’s room. You’re gone all day, and I think it would be good if she has a constant visual reminder of you even when you’re not here.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
“Something informal would be best.”
He nodded. “I’ll see what I can dig up.”
“And I need you to record a message to her.”
Nicholas looked at her in confusion. “Record a message?”
“Sure,” she said, moving closer to him and handing him the frame. “I got this today. It’s so cool. We put your photo in the frame and record a message, then every time you push this button, you get to hear the message. Molly will love it.”
The excitement in her voice amused and warmed him. “How do you know she won’t start crying every time she hears my voice?”
Gail tossed him a sideways glance. “Because she’s already warming up to you. And it’s so easy. You can go ahead and record your message now.”
“Now?” he said, drawing a complete blank. “What should I say?”
“Anything. You can sing part of a song. You can read from one of her favorite books. Or you can just tell her how special she is and how much you love her.”
The doorbell rang. Gail glanced at the clock. “Oh, that’ll be Jonathan. He’s a friend,” she said, answering his question before he voiced it. “He called and said he wanted to watch a basketball game with me. You said I could use the downstairs den in the evenings if I want to have friends over. Is that still okay?”
Not really, Nicholas thought. After his hectic day, he’d enjoyed the few moments of conversation with Gail. But it wasn’t fair to completely curtail her social life just because being with her had been as refreshing as the bottle of water. “Sure,” he said. “I’m headed upstairs soon, anyway.”
“So you can record your message and find a photo,” she hinted with a wide smile, then headed for the front door. “I want to put it on Molly’s dresser, so she can see it when she wakes up in the morning.”
“We’ll see,” he muttered as she opened the door.
A tall man in his late twenties swooped Gail up off her feet. “How long were you going to leave me out there in the cold? I was starting to wonder if I was at the wrong house.”
“Put me down, Jonathan. You’re just terrified you’ll miss the beginning of the game,” she said.
“There you go breaking my heart again,” he said, allowing her feet to slide to the floor. “I didn’t want to miss one minute with you.”
“You’re full of it,” she said, dismissing him. “The only reason you’re watching the game with me is because your buddies are busy.” She glanced over her shoulder and her gaze collided with Nicholas’s. “I’m sorry. I thought you had already left. Nicholas Barone, my boss,” she added in a meaningful tone for her guest’s benefit, “this is Jonathan O’Reilly. Jonathan is one of my volleyball teammates, and also one of my best friends, despite the fact that he takes the Irish flirting thing way too seriously.”
Jonathan shot her a brief glance of mock disapproval, then extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nicholas Barone. I’ve consumed a fair amount of your fine product over the years, and I’ve admired your company.”
“Thank you,” Nicholas said, liking and not liking the man at the same time. Gail might insist that Jonathan was her friend, but Nicholas had been around long enough to sense that Jonathan wanted more than friendship with her. He resented the ease with which the man touched Gail, which was stupid. As long as Gail did her job with Molly, he shouldn’t care about her relationships. “There’s beer in the fridge if you like.”
“Thanks. I don’t want to chase you out of your own den,” Gail said. “If you’d like to join us…”
Nicholas shook his head. “No, I have some reading to do.”
“And recording,” she reminded him with a smile.
“And recording. Good night,” he said to both of them, and climbed the stairs with an uncomfortable gnawing sensation in his gut. He heard the sound of Jonathan’s low voice, followed by Gail’s laughter, and stopped halfway up the stairs. Her laughter, robust and uninhibited, unintentionally sexy, sent a rush of shocking desire though him. Something about the sound of it was addictive, and it occurred to him that making Gail laugh could be like making her climax. The notion knocked him sideways, yet at the same time he knew it was true.
She laughed again, and the same sensation rolled through him. He frowned at his response. He couldn’t recall ever becoming aroused just from the sound of a woman’s laughter. Tamping down the strange but forceful urge to be the man to make her laugh, he climbed the rest of the stairs, but he didn’t resist the temptation to leave his bedroom door open so he could hear her laugh again.
For the next two hours he scoured manufacturing reports in preparation for a regional meeting. His eyelids grew heavy, and he closed his eyes and leaned back against his pillow. He would rest for just a moment, he told himself, and slid into a dream that was more a mixture of images than a story…
He saw the faces of several of his top business managers and his father. Tension tightened his gut. Suddenly Gail’s laughter floated across his consciousness, and he was transferred from the boardroom to his bedroom.
Her hair wild and free, Gail sat in the middle of his bed offering a smile of invitation. She wore a long-sleeved flannel nightgown that he wanted her to remove. He joined her on his bed, and as he took her mouth with his, he felt her start of surprise followed by her gradual acceptance of his kiss. Her lips were sweet and responsive.
Her murmurs of encouragement made him hard. He felt as if he’d waited a long time to kiss her, a long time to take her. Kissing her only made him want more. He put his hands over her breasts and she pressed against his palms with gratifying speed.
But she still wore her gown, and he wanted to feel her naked skin. He trailed his hands beneath the gown to her smooth legs, up to the top of her thighs, and paused in surprise. She wore no panties. The contrast of her nakedness beneath the flannel sent a roar of arousal through him. He touched her intimately and she wriggled against him.
He guided her hand to the place that ached for her touch, and she cupped him. He wanted more. Plunging his tongue into her mouth, he felt her pump him. His clothes dissolved, and there was nothing but heat and this woman. Just when the haze of his arousal began to clear, he felt her mouth pleasuring him.
The sight of her delicious mouth surrounding him nearly sent him over the edge. He was so close…
A child’s cry broke the spell.
The visual abruptly vanished, and Nicholas blinked as he awoke with a crick in his neck. His papers still rested on his chest and he still wore his pants, yet he was fully aroused. What a strange dream. Had Gail really been— He heard another cry. Molly.
Automatically rising from the bed, he shook off his slumber and walked down the hall to her room. Gail stood there, holding his daughter, comforting her.
“Everybody needs a hug when they have a bad dream,” she said to Molly.
Nicholas couldn’t agree more. “Is she okay?” he asked in a low voice.
“I think we can’t overdo the comfort measures for her yet,” Gail said as she glanced at him. Then she took in a sharp breath.
Nicholas glanced down at his shirt. “I forgot to put my shirt in her crib,” he said and began to remove it. He noticed that her gaze lingered on his chest before she seemed to deliberately look away. The banked admiration in her eyes stroked his nerve endings and his ego. She was attracted to him, he realized, and he sensed it was an honest attraction. As honest as a woman could be, he corrected, his cynicism rushing to protect him.
He watched Gail brush Molly’s forehead with her lips, and his gut twisted as he remembered the pleasure her mouth had brought him.
In his dream, he reminded himself, and vowed to erase the erotic image from his mind.
Gail bent to return Molly to her crib, but his daughter immediately began to fuss. Gail picked her up again. “You can go on to bed. This may take a while.”
“Has it happened before?”
Gail swayed from side to side to soothe Molly. “Only two other nights she couldn’t seem to settle down.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. “Do you think she’s sick?”
Gail shook her head. “She doesn’t seem to have a fever.”
“What do you think it is?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just think she needs to be held.”
“All night long?”
Gail smiled. “Maybe. So if I’m not perky tomorrow, you’ll know why.” She cocked her head toward the door. “Go back to bed. You have to function mentally tomorrow.”
Nicholas slowly left the room and cleaned up for bed. It took him a while to fall asleep. He awakened in the dark early hours before dawn with the odd feeling that he needed to do something. Remembering Molly’s difficulty going to sleep, he went down the hall to the nursery and saw Gail sitting in the rocking chair with the baby’s head tucked against her shoulder. The sight stirred a strange, tender sensation inside him.
“Put her to bed,” he said in a quiet voice.
Gail glanced up at him, her eyelids droopy from lack of sleep. She nodded and gingerly rose from the chair, then lowered Molly to her crib. They waited in complete silence.
A fussing sound erupted from the crib and Gail’s shoulders slumped. She bent as if to pick up the baby, but Nicholas stayed her with his hand. “My turn.”
Gail looked at him in surprise. “What about your sleep?”
“I got some sleep.” He squeezed her shoulder. “You get yours.”
“Are you sure?” she whispered.
He nodded, feeling a kind of bond with her. “We’re a team. You need to sit this one out.”
She held his gaze for a long moment. “If you’re sure….”
“Go to bed.”
Although her eyes were still blurry in a sexy, sleep-deprived way, her lips twitched with humor. “You’re so good at giving orders.”
“All you have to do is follow them,” he said, leaning down to pick up his daughter. For the next hour he walked and rocked her. The minutes passed slowly and he vowed to make sure he shared all-nighters with Gail in the future. Just the idea of an all-nighter with Gail, however, prompted warmer, more pleasurable images. As he rocked his daughter and held her close, his mind wandered to Gail, her warmth and her ease, her laughter. Molly felt safe with her, and in a strange way Nicholas did, too.
The first rays of sunlight woke Gail. She opened her eyes and sat up in bed, listening for sounds from Molly’s room. Rising from the bed, she left her room and walked the short distance to Molly’s room where the door was cracked. She pushed the door open to find Nicholas asleep in the rocking chair with his daughter asleep on his bare chest.
The sight took her breath. They were both so alike, so beautiful. For all Nicholas’s strength and all Molly’s vulnerability, Gail sensed they both needed the same things—comfort, acceptance and a safe place. Her desire to provide both of them with those things was so strong it hurt. She wondered how her heart could be won so quickly, but she found it so easy to care for both of them.
Nicholas was such a powerful man, but Gail sensed a loneliness he kept mostly hidden. She saw a glimpse of the burden of being the firstborn in a hard-driving family. He rose to every challenge, but she suspected there were times when his duties wore on him. And now instant fatherhood had provided another challenge.
She shook her head at her thoughts. He could and would handle everything life tossed at him. He didn’t need her sympathy, she told herself, but she wouldn’t forget his insistence on taking a turn with Molly last night.
Moving forward, she extended her hand to touch his arm to wake him, but paused as if his skin might burn her. Disgusted with the thought, she touched him and watched his eyes. They immediately opened.
“Good morning,” she whispered.
He glanced at the window, then back at her. “It doesn’t look like morning.”
“Room-darkening shades,” she said, putting her hand on Molly’s back. The baby barely moved. “I think she’s finally out.” She gingerly lifted her and lowered her to the crib. Molly wriggled to get into a comfortable position, then wrapped her hand around Nicholas’s T-shirt and drew it against her mouth.
Feeling Nicholas standing behind her, Gail instinctively reached for him. “Look,” she said, pulling him closer. “She’s kissing your shirt.”
Gail gazed into Nicholas’s eyes and saw heartbreaking tenderness. He looked at Molly for a long moment, then turned his gaze to her. With a finger he touched her face underneath her eyes. “You need to get rid of these circles. Go back to bed.”
“What about you?”
He cracked a grin and his gaze drifted over her with playful suggestiveness. “I’d love to join you, but I have to go to the office.”
Gail gaped at him. “I…I didn’t mean—”
He covered her lips with his index finger. “Don’t worry. I’m just joking.”
Gail took in the sight of his bare chest and bedroom eyes and swallowed a wail of confusion. What if she didn’t want him to be joking?
Three
What he really wanted was a naked woman, a hot coupling, followed by a little peace and a glass of merlot. Weary from his full day at work and recalling a cocktail party he still had to attend at the mayor’s home, Nicholas gave a heavy sigh as he stepped through his front door.
Gail and Molly greeted him. “Welcome home,” Gail said, and Nicholas’s wayward mind pictured her tangled in his sheets. The steamy image surprised him.
“We have two surprises for you,” Gail said with a big smile.
He wiped his hand over his jaw. Something told him it wasn’t going to include a hot coupling and tangled sheets. He sighed, dismissing his baser urges and turning his attention to his daughter. “Hello, Miss Molly, how are you?”
Molly shyly ducked her head. That was an improvement. At least she wasn’t crying.
Gail looked down at Molly. “Okay, show him your stuff. Wave bye-bye.”
Molly mimicked Gail. “Bye-bye-bye-bye-bye.”
Nicholas chuckled. “Is this a hint that I should leave?”
“No. Wave back to her.”
“Bye-bye,” he said, waving and feeling slightly foolish.
“Bye-bye-bye-bye,” Molly said, waving again.
“Good girl,” Gail said. “Now here’s the biggie.” She whispered something in Molly’s ear, and his daughter appeared to listen intently.
“Da-da-da-da,” she said, and Nicholas felt his heart swell.
“Who is that?” Gail asked, pointing at Nicholas.
“Da-da-da-da-da-da,” Molly said.
“What a smart little girl,” he said to Molly. Encouraged by his approval, she continued to babble da-da. Delighted, Nicholas shook his head. “When did this happen?”
“Today,” Gail said proudly. “We pushed the message button on your photograph so many times I’m going to have to get another battery, but I don’t care. This is so cool. She’s so pleased with herself she can barely stop. Plus,” she added, “we attended our first ‘water babies’ class at the health club today.”
“How did my girl like it?” he asked doubtfully.
“She howled for the first fifteen minutes, but then she really enjoyed herself. I think she’s part fish.”
“Sounds like you two had fun today,” he said, feeling a twinge of envy. “Damn, I wish I didn’t have a cocktail party tonight.”
A sliver of disappointment came and went in Gail’s eyes. “We’ll be all right.”
“Yeah, but will I,” he said dryly. “By the way, you can have the evening off. My father’s out of town and my mother says she’s experiencing grandchild withdrawal, so she’s going to take care of Molly tonight.”
“Okay, well, maybe Molly can show off her new tricks.”
“What will you do?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll give Jonathan a call.”
The notion didn’t sit well with him. “Or you could make this cocktail party a little more bearable by going with me,” he suggested impulsively.
Her eyes rounded. “Me?”
He shrugged, walking down the hallway. “The woman who was supposed to attend with me has the flu. To tell you the truth, I’d forgotten I was committed to go until she called to cancel.”
“Oh.” Gail blinked as she digested his remarks. “Well, why don’t you look in your little black book, or maybe yours is a big black book, and—”
“Because I don’t feel like entertaining tonight. I’m tired,” he said, tugging his tie loose.
“Then why are you going?”
“Because it’s the mayor and a Barone needs to be there.”
“But there are lots of Barones, aren’t there?”
“Yeah, but—” He broke off and shrugged.
“Yeah, but you’re the oldest and it’s expected,” she concluded.
He sighed. “I usually don’t mind.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” she said, her expression thoughtful. “Is it formal?”
He shook his head. “I’ll wear what I have on and you can wear what you want. The bunny slippers would be a nice conversation starter.”
She shot him a sideways glance. “I’m sure they would.” She paused. “Okay. I’ll go.”
The sudden easing in his chest surprised him. He would have to think about that later. “Good. Can you be ready in about thirty minutes?” he asked, knowing her answer before she uttered it. That was one of the great things about Gail. No fuss. No muss.
Gail stared in her closet and swallowed a wail of panic. She’d just accepted a pseudo-date with Nicholas Barone. Except it wasn’t even a pseudo-date, because she was a stand-in and he didn’t really want to go.
Her heart hammered in her chest. So why had she accepted? He’d looked so weary and handsome, yet touched when Molly had called him da-da. She’d felt sorry for him.
That was ridiculous. He was the hottest bachelor in Boston. The man was so hot a woman needed a fire suit just to stand next to him. She looked over her unimpressive wardrobe, wondering if anything she owned was fire retardant.
She glanced at the clock and another shot of panic raced through her. She was supposed to go from nanny to appropriate escort in less than twenty-five minutes when she really needed a week for that kind of transformation.
“A week,” she muttered to herself, pulling a soft brown sweater from the closet. “Who do you think you’re fooling?” She grabbed a matching long brown skirt and hoped it still fit. She dug out a pair of boots. “Panty hose,” she muttered and raced to her lingerie drawer. The last pair she’d worn had a run, and that was apparently the only pair she owned.
Another shot of panic raced through her. The skirt would cover the run. She glanced in the mirror at her face and hair. Some work needed there.
After several unsuccessful attempts to apply eye liner, Gail gave up and smudged some lipstick on her mouth and mascara on her pale eyelashes. She put her hair in a French-braid from which tiny tendrils were already escaping, but there was no way to prevent it. Nervous and full of regret, she walked downstairs.