The Nanny Proposal

Jane’s eyes widened, and her heart skittered. He was too handsome for words!

“Hello.”

He smiled, and Jane knew without a doubt from whom her baby niece had inherited her dimples. And his eyes were as green as little Joy’s, too.

He reached for her hand and she automatically clasped his. His palm was warm against hers. Secure. Trustworthy. Her insides went utterly haywire.

“Jane,” she said, relieved that she remembered her name. “Jane Dale.” Her voice sounded whispery, halting.

“Nice to meet you.” He paused. “Give me a moment to look at your file and then you can tell me what I can do for you today.”

She was happy to give him as long as he needed. She needed some time herself. Time to bridle these unexpected and totally confusing emotions that were wreaking havoc on her nervous system….

The Doctor’s Medicine Woman

Dear Reader,

As Silhouette’s yearlong anniversary celebration continues, Romance again delivers six unique stories about the poignant journey from courtship to commitment.

Teresa Southwick invites you back to STORKVILLE, USA, where a wealthy playboy has the gossips stumped with his latest transaction: The Acquired Bride…and her triplet kids! New York Times bestselling author Kasey Michaels contributes the second title in THE CHANDLERS REQUEST…miniseries, Jessie’s Expecting. Judy Christenberry spins off her popular THE CIRCLE K SISTERS with a story involving a blizzard, a roadside motel with one bed left, a gorgeous, honor-bound rancher…and his Snowbound Sweetheart.

New from Donna Clayton is SINGLE DOCTOR DADS! In the premiere story of this wonderful series, a first-time father strikes The Nanny Proposal with a woman whose timely hiring quickly proves less serendipitous and more carefully, lovingly, staged…. Lilian Darcy pens yet another edgy, uplifting story with Raising Baby Jane. And debut author Jackie Braun delivers pure romantic fantasy as a down-on-her-luck waitress receives an intriguing order from the man of her dreams: One Fiancée To Go, Please.

Happy Reading!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

The Nanny Proposal

Donna Clayton

This book is dedicated to Peggy Moore who is always ready and willing to straighten out my twisted medical facts. Many thanks!

Books by Donna Clayton

Silhouette Romance

Mountain Laurel #720

Taking Love in Stride #781

Return of the Runaway Bride #999

Wife for a While #1039

Nanny and the Professor #1066

Fortune’s Bride #1118

Daddy Down the Aisle #1162

*Miss Maxwell Becomes a Mom #1211

*Nanny in the Nick of Time #1217

*Beauty and the Bachelor Dad #1223

†The Stand-By Significant Other #1284

†Who’s the Father of Jenny’s Baby? #1302

The Boss and the Beauty #1342

His Ten-Year-Old Secret #1373

Her Dream Come True #1399

Adopted Dad #1417

His Wild Young Bride #1441

**The Nanny Proposal #1477

DONNA CLAYTON

is proud to be a recipient of the Holt Medallion, an award honoring outstanding literary talent, for her Silhouette Romance Wife for a While. And seeing her work appear on the Waldenbooks Series Bestsellers List has given her a great deal of joy and satisfaction.

Reading is one of Donna’s favorite ways to wile away a rainy afternoon. She loves to hike, too. Another hobby added to her list of fun things to do is traveling. She fell in love with Europe during her first trip abroad and plans to return often.

Oh, and Donna still collects cookbooks, but as her writing career grows, she finds herself using them less and less.

Donna loves to hear from her readers. Please write to her care of Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Prologue

Greg Hamilton patted a healthy splash of aftershave on his smooth jaw as he stared into the mirror. Habit had him brushing his damp palms over his bare chest, then he picked up a comb and ran it through his wet hair.

He felt good. Like a man who had put in an intense week at work and was ready for a little fun on a Friday night.

His patients had kept him on his toes this week. He’d treated Mrs. Brown, with her just-give-me-a-pill attitude. The elderly woman he had just diagnosed as borderline diabetic refused to believe that her diet played an important role in her continuing a healthy life. He’d spent a great deal of time explaining the condition to her. But it seemed none of his arguments could curb the woman’s taste for sweets.

And little Bobby Lee, whose bed-jumping escapade had earned him a fall that needed three stitches. Greg grimaced into the mirror, wondering why these kinds of things always happened right around eleven o’clock at night.

There had also been a myriad of coughs, colds, upper-respiratory infections and bouts of flu he’d treated. However, none of his patients concerned him more than young Tracy Morgan. The teen had an eating disorder. He was sure of it. But he’d had a devil of a time convincing her parents that their daughter had a problem at all. He’d begun explaining his diagnosis calmly, but their refusal to open their eyes and minds to the potentially deadly prognosis had frustrated him. He’d ended up frightening them into really listening to what he’d had to say. He’d felt badly when he’d seen the fear in their eyes, knowing he’d put it there. Parents never wanted to believe their child was in danger. But Greg had only acted out of concern for young Tracy. In the end, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan had agreed to take Tracy to see a specialist that Greg had recommended.

He sighed, tugging a fresh T-shirt over his head. Enough about his patients, he thought. He’d worked hard. Now it was time to relax and enjoy himself. And he had a date with a raven-haired beauty who was going to help him do just that.

As he fastened the buttons of his crisp white dress shirt, Greg once again thought about his medical practice—a practice he shared with his two best buddies in the whole world. He thought about his great apartment, positioned in the best possible location in the city. The hot little sports car he’d purchased just a few months ago.

Ah, yes, Greg sure did have the world by the tail.

And the very best part of being a successful bachelor doctor? Why, that would have to be the seemingly endless number of lovely ladies willing to spend Friday and Saturday evenings with him. A little dinner, a little dancing, a little kissing in the moonlight. He loved being a single guy.

It wasn’t that he used or abused women. No way. In fact, he had a rule: no sex on the first—or second—date. The morning after the one and only time he’d broken the rule, he’d felt like a bum. A real heel. And on principle, he’d ended up reaffirming his faith in the “no sex without meaning” law. He simply enjoyed the company of females. Luckily, in this very enlightened age, there were plenty of women who felt free to enjoy the company of a man.

He buckled the belt around his waist, smoothed his palm over his taut abdomen, hand-pressing the pleats of his dress trousers, and then he slipped his feet into black Italian loafers. After one last glance at his reflection, he grabbed his suit jacket off the hanger, reached for his wallet and keys—and was stopped dead in his tracks by the doorbell.

Greg glanced at his watch, wondering who could be at his door as he shrugged on his jacket. Travis and Sloan, his friends and partners, knew he had a hot date tonight. Absently brushing his hand over one lapel, he moved down the hall and into the living room.

He heard the baby’s cries before he even grasped the door handle. The child’s wails had his brow furrowing. None of his neighbors had kids. A patient, maybe? But why hadn’t his answering service notified him there was an emergency? Why wouldn’t the baby’s parents go directly to the hospital ER? Why would they show up here—

As the questions churned in his mind like the swirl caused when a boat oar is forced through river water, he gave the handle a quick twist and pulled open the door.

The woman was clearly annoyed. And vaguely familiar to him. Irritation pulsed from her in palpable waves. The baby girl in her arms was so upset her sobs were actually being released in tiny hiccups.

The professional medical practitioner in Greg immediately took over. Instinctively reaching for the child, he asked, “Is she ill?”

“No,” the child’s mother answered as she handed over the baby. “She’s yours.”

Greg’s mouth dropped open as the baby squirmed in his arms. Shock paralyzed his vocal cords. Where did he know this woman from? he wondered. He racked his brain, trying to recall her name from the depths of his memory. And what on earth did she mean by what she’d said?

The woman then dropped a small suitcase at the threshold of the door and let the overstuffed diaper bag that hung on her shoulder slide to the floor beside it. Relieved of what seemed an overwhelming weight, she smiled for the first time, a gleam shining in her gaze—a gleam Greg could only describe as…triumphant. He got the distinct feeling she’d succeeded in some goal. Met some terribly stubborn and hundred-pound-weight-off-the-shoulder objective.

“Your daughter’s name is Joy,” the woman continued, “and I’ve decided it’s high time for you to take her off my hands.”

Chapter One

Greg burst through the glass double doors of the clinic. He didn’t have to look at his watch to know he was late. His first patient would be waiting. His whole day’s schedule shot. Again.

“Your first patient is waiting.”

Rachel Richards, the office manager for the clinic, teased him with a disapproving click of her tongue.

“I know,” he said in a rush. “I know.”

“She’s only a baby, Dr. Greg.” Rachel reached out and took his daughter from him, grinning at the happy ten-month-old. “The way you’re reacting, it’s the end of the world.”

A spontaneous gust of ironic laughter erupted from him. “Joy’s arrival was the end of the world as I knew it.” He softly added, “I’m trying to get used to this new planet called parenthood. Please have patience with me.”

He felt as if he was whispering the plea not only to Rachel, but his patients, his staff, his colleagues…and anyone else understanding and kind enough to listen. Juggling career and parenting responsibilities was an overwhelming task. One at which he was sure he was failing miserably.

“I’m just teasing you.” Rachel shifted Joy onto one arm and then held up a crisp white lab coat for Greg with her free hand. “It’s only been a week. Give yourself time.”

He slipped on the coat and fastened the buttons with swift, precise movements. “So many times this week I’ve wished Mom and Dad were alive to help me. They’d have loved Joy so much.” He sighed. I can’t believe I’m having such a devil of a time finding a sitter. It’s ridiculous. No one wants to watch Joy at home. I don’t think it’s a good idea to take her to a day-care center. She’ll have a constant cold if she’s with other children.”

Rachel shook her head. “Greg, millions of mothers and fathers drop off their children at day cares all over the country every single day. Joy would be with other kids. Think of the social skills she’d develop.” She handed him his stethoscope and then his first patient’s file. “You’re going to have to do something. I’m an office manager,” she reminded him gently, “not a nanny.”

“I know, I know.” Apology was in his tone, deep and sincere—Rachel had been a godsend this past week—but suddenly his whole countenance brightened as what she’d said really sunk into his head.

“A nanny.” He let the word roll around on his tongue, roll around in his mind. “That’s just what I need.”

“Oh.” Rachel waved off the idea. “You don’t want someone living with you night and day.”

“But I’ve got plenty of room,” Greg said. “My apartment has three bedrooms.”

“Your whole life would be disrupted.”

He cocked one brow at her. “Like it hasn’t been already?”

She laughed. And they were both rewarded when little Joy joined in.

“Ah—” Greg smoothed a finger along his daughter’s satiny jaw “—you liked that one, huh? You like knowing you’ve thrown your daddy for a loop?”

The toddler’s bubbly giggle made Greg chuckle. He’d taken quite a shine to her during the one short week she’d spent under his roof.

“This little girl is just too charming.” Rachel touched the end of Joy’s tiny, button nose, then leveled her gaze on Greg. “Too bad her dad couldn’t muster up any charisma this morning.”

Greg let his silence urge the office manager to expound on her comment.

“You couldn’t find your razor?” she asked.

Of its own volition, his hand reached up to cup his jaw. “Oh, Lord. I never gave it a thought.”

Merriment danced in Rachel’s eyes. “This daddy business really has rocked your world right off its axis, hasn’t it?”

Rather than responding, he took a second to glance down at himself. His tie was askew and his belt was fastened but hadn’t been tucked into the last loop.

“I feel like I’ve been through an earthquake.” Then he amended, “A daily earthquake. She’s pretty good during the days. But the nights…” He sighed wearily. “She still cries for her mother at bedtime. I’ve got to rock her and sing to her for hours before she’ll fall asleep.”

Rachel offered a compassionate smile. “It’ll get easier. I promise. But right now, you’d better get to that patient. She’s been waiting a good while.”

“Of course.” However, before he left the waiting area, he tickled Joy under the chin and was rewarded with her sunny grin. He’d had no idea a man could lose his heart so thoroughly in just seven short days.

Jane sat on the examining table, her stomach dancing with a horrible case of nerves. She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t have a plan. This impulsiveness just wasn’t like her. But she had to find Joy. Her heart felt aching and empty without that baby in her life. How could Pricilla just disappear with the child like she had? How could her sister do such a thing?

Hot tears prickled the backs of Jane’s eyelids when she thought of her niece with her huge jewel-green eyes, her springy red curls and those deep dimples that formed every time the child grinned. Jane dashed the moisture away with a quick swipe of her fingertips. She couldn’t afford tears. Not now. She had to try to keep her wits about her. Dr. Greg Hamilton would be arriving any moment.

She glanced at the white clock on the wall. He was late. But could she expect anything else from the haphazard and irresponsible man who had made her sister pregnant and then would have nothing else to do with her or the baby he’d created?

Tamp down that anger, she warned herself. Giving Greg Hamilton a piece of her mind would be satisfying, yes. But it would get her nowhere in locating Pricilla and Joy. And that was the sole reason she was here.

A whole week had passed since she’d arrived home from the restaurant where she worked as a waitress to find the apartment empty. Pricilla had left no note. No hint of where she’d gone or when she planned to return. At first, Jane had been furious, thinking that her sister had taken the baby with her on a date, or something equally as capricious.

Pricilla was always doing things on a whim. She never thought her actions through. And that unguarded attitude often placed her own baby in neglectful circumstances. Hadn’t Jane just argued with Pricilla about that very subject two days before her sister and niece disappeared?

Jane had discovered that, rather than staying home with Joy while Jane was at work, Pricilla had been leaving the baby with a neighbor—a young woman neither of them knew very well—and going out on the town. Jane hated to admit it, but her sister’s maternal instinct wasn’t very strong. It had been sheer luck that Jane had beat her sister home by a mere five minutes and caught her fetching Joy from the house down the block. The hour had been late, and the baby had been wearing nothing but her pajamas to ward off the late October chill.

Jane and Pricilla had an awful argument about the incident. Money was so tight. Jane hadn’t even asked where Pricilla had gotten the funds to pay the neighbor for baby-sitting. Probably from the big-spending men-friends she dated…the ones who seemed to crawl out of the woodwork whenever Pricilla had it in her mind to go out and party. Men who thought nothing of their actions. Men whose only concern was having a good time.

Men like Greg Hamilton.

The name hadn’t even finished whispering across her brain when the door of the examining room opened and the man himself appeared before her.

Jane’s eyes widened, and at the same time her heart skittered into a race. The man was too darned handsome for words! But then, did Pricilla ever choose any other kind?

“Hello.”

He smiled after he spoke, and Jane knew without a doubt from whom baby Joy inherited her dimples. However, while her niece’s were cute enough to invoke grins, the deep indentations in Greg Hamilton’s cheeks were…breathtaking. Even shadowed with a day’s growth of auburn whiskers, those dimples were absolutely mesmerizing. And his eyes were as green as little Joy’s, too.

“Hi.” Her greeting sounded whispery, halting. She silently berated herself. What did she care if his damned dimples made him look like some Hollywood movie star? Or if his eyes glittered attractively? She was appalled by the way her heart skipped and scampered against her ribs, the way her stomach constricted at the sight of him.

“I’m Dr. Hamilton.”

He reached out for her hand and she automatically clasped his. His palm was warm against hers. Secure. Trustworthy. Just like a doctor’s hand should be. Again, he smiled. And again, her insides went utterly haywire. The spontaneous and downright shocking feelings she was experiencing toward this man were so at odds with the opinion she’d formed of him that she felt sure her brain would short-circuit at any moment.

“Jane,” she told him, relieved that she’d even remembered her name. “Jane Dale.”

“Nice to meet you.” Then he said, “Give me a moment to look at your file and then you can tell me what I can do for you today.” He went to the counter and flipped open the manila folder he’d carried in with him.

She was happy to give him as long as he needed. The way things were going, she needed some time herself. Time to bridle these unexpected and totally confusing emotions that were wreaking havoc on her nervous system.

The giddiness was purely a feminine response to a good-looking man. That much, she knew, was completely natural. Completely controllable. But why was she angry that Greg Hamilton was handsome? She had expected him to be, hadn’t she? Pricilla wouldn’t have been caught dead with a man who didn’t have above average looks.

You’re angry because men like the good doctor here, a tiny, hurtful voice silently intoned, would never find you attractive.

That was ludicrous! She didn’t give a hoot if Greg Hamilton, or any other man for that matter, found her attractive or not.

What did anger her were the facts. This man fathered a baby and then refused to have anything to do with the child unless he could have full custody. This man had refused to help Pricilla when he certainly had the means to do so. He’d refused to support his daughter. Those were the facts. Facts that made Jane smolder like a day-old bonfire.

Stay calm, she scolded herself. If she lambasted him like she wanted to—like he deserved—he would surely refuse to help her find Pricilla and Joy.

Why would he help you, anyway? that irritating voice silently taunted. Pricilla had said early on that Dr. Hamilton wanted full custody of his daughter, or he wanted nothing to do with the child. Discovering that Pricilla had suddenly gone off with Joy just might stir in him a renewed interest in his baby girl.

Jane felt the blood drain right out of her face.

What if he decided to take Joy away from Pricilla? What if he hired a lawyer? What if he demanded his rights as the baby’s father be recognized? Her mind whirred faster than the speed of light.

Why hadn’t she thought of all these things before she’d come here? Why hadn’t she realized that she was entering enemy territory? This kind of thoughtless, irresponsible behavior was usually carried out by her sister, not level-headed Jane. But now Jane herself was being swept away by some insane recklessness.

She could be causing Pricilla trouble just by being here. Seeking him out. Jane could lose Joy for good.

That final thought caused her to tremble, literally. Perspiration prickled her forehead and upper lip. She felt light-headed. Dizzy. A frown bit deeply into her brow as she contemplated the magnitude of the mistake she’d made in coming to see Greg Hamilton. But it was too late now. Too late to get out of here without starting some kind of trouble. For Pricilla. For herself.

You can get out of this, a stern, no-nonsense voice echoed in her head. All you have to do is lie. You’ve already set it up perfectly.

In her reluctance to reveal the true purpose of her visit to anyone except Greg Hamilton himself, she had told the receptionist and the nurse she was here for a physical. All she had to do was stick with that story. This would be simple. A piece of cake, really.

She thanked her lucky stars that she and Pricilla had different fathers, hence different last names. The doctor didn’t know her. Had never met her. So there was no reason why he would link the mousy-haired woman sitting in his examining room now with the blond, blue-eyed, gorgeous bombshell that was Pricilla. The logical voice in her head made getting out of this situation unscathed sound so terribly easy.

Nervously running her tongue over her dry lips, Jane tried to make sense of these rash, chaotic thoughts.

Lying is for cheats and swindlers, another part of her brain argued.

Not all liars were bad, the stern voice stressed. Look at poets and song writers, novelists and playwrights. They fabricated stories every single day. They made up people, places, events.

But that was solely for entertainment purposes, her rational side reasoned.

No, the stern voice pointed out, it was for survival. And that’s just what you need to do right now. Survive. So you’d better lie like there’s no tomorrow.

Greg leaned his weight on one elbow, his forehead in his hand, and stared unseeingly at the medical history page in front of him. The woman’s blood pressure was fine. Her weight was perfect for her height. Yet he still continued to stare at the page.

As inconspicuously as possible, he inhaled a huge breath of air, and then expelled it slowly. When he’d entered the room and looked into Jane Dale’s face, it was as if he’d been kicked in the chest by a mule. She seemed so…haunted. He was almost positive her ailment wasn’t physical.