“What About Last Night?”
Wyatt Couldn’t Resist Asking.
“You Didn’t Feel Anything When We Were Together?”

“Look, you’re experienced and worldly enough to take care of yourself,” Grace said.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Wyatt studied her intently.

“I would have to be blind not to notice that you are a very good-looking man, Mr. Sawyer. But that’s the end of it.”

“So, I’m the only one in that room last night who felt any sparks between us?” he asked softly, moving closer to her. Her eyes widened.

“Yes, you were.”

“Oh, I think not,” Wyatt said, reaching out to unfasten the barrette that held her hair. “Still don’t feel anything when I get close?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I think you do. Where’s all that blunt honesty of yours now? Tell me if you feel anything when I do this.” He wrapped his arms around her.

“Mr. Sawyer!”

“The hell with that,” he whispered, and leaned down to cover her mouth with his own.

Dear Reader,

Get your new year off to a sizzling start by reading six passionate, powerful and provocative new love stories from Silhouette Desire!

Don’t miss the exciting launch of DYNASTIES: THE BARONES, the new 12-book continuity series about feuding Italian-American families caught in a web of danger, deceit and desire. Meet Nicholas, the eldest son of Boston’s powerful Barone clan, and Gail, the down-to-earth nanny who wins his heart, in The Playboy & Plain Jane (#1483) by USA TODAY bestselling author Leanne Banks.

In Beckett’s Convenient Bride (#1484), the final story in Dixie Browning’s BECKETT’S FORTUNE miniseries, a detective offers the protection of his home—and loses his heart—to a waitress whose own home is torched after she witnesses a murder. And in The Sheikh’s Bidding (#1485) by Kristi Gold, an Arabian prince pays dearly to win back his ex-lover and their son.

Reader favorite Sara Orwig completes her STALLION PASS miniseries with The Rancher, the Baby & the Nanny (#1486), featuring a daredevil cowboy and the shy miss he hires to care for his baby niece. In Quade: The Irresistible One (#1487) by Bronwyn Jameson, sparks fly when two lawyers exchange more than arguments. And great news for all you fans of Harlequin Historicals author Charlene Sands—she’s now writing contemporary romances, as well, and debuts in Desire with The Heart of a Cowboy (#1488), a reunion romance that puts an ex-rodeo star at close quarters on a ranch with the pregnant widow he’s loved silently for years.

Ring in this new year with all six brand-new love stories from Silhouette Desire….

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

The Rancher, the Baby & the Nanny
Sara Orwig

To Joan Marlow Golan and to Stephanie Maurer with many thanks.

SARA ORWIG

lives with her husband and children in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere, from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara writes historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.

Contents

Foreword

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

FOREWORD

Stallion Pass, Texas—so named according to the ancient legend in which an Apache warrior fell in love with a U.S. Cavalry captain’s daughter. When the captain learned about their love, he intended to force her to wed a cavalry officer. The warrior and the maiden planned to run away and marry. The night the warrior came to get her, the cavalry killed him. His ghost became a white stallion, forever searching for the woman he loved. Heartbroken, the maiden ran away to a convent, where on moonlit nights she could see the white stallion running wild, but she didn’t know it was the ghost of her warrior. The white stallion still roams the area and, according to legend, will bring love to the person who tames him. Not far from Stallion Pass, in Piedras and Lago counties, there is a wild white stallion, running across the land owned by three Texas bachelors, Gabriel Brant, Josh Kellogg and Wyatt Sawyer. Is the white stallion of legend about to bring love into their lives?

One

Stallion Pass

Oh, no!” Holding a baby in his arms, Wyatt Sawyer stood at the window of his Texas ranch home and watched a woman get out of her car. As she approached the house, his practiced gaze ran over her and he immediately scratched her off his list of possibilities for nanny. She looked like a child herself. Curly red hair was clipped behind her head with a few tendrils flying loose. Her lack of makeup and nondescript gray jumper and white blouse made her seem about sixteen.

“How many nannies will I have to interview for you?” he asked the sleeping baby and shifted her in his arms. He gazed at his five-month-old niece and warmth filled him.

“Megan, darlin’, we’ll find the right nanny. I’m going to take the best care of you I can.” He held her up and kissed her forehead lightly, then returned his attention to the woman approaching the door.

Bright May sunshine splashed over her, revealing a fresh-scrubbed look that only added to her youthful appearance. Wyatt wished he could inquire about her age, because it was difficult to imagine she was a day over eighteen, tops. Wyatt’s gaze ran over her again and dimly, he registered that she had long legs. He thought about two of the women he’d interviewed who were beauties. Both times, when they’d walked into the room, his heart had skipped a beat. Three minutes into the interview, he knew he could never leave Megan with either one of them.

He sighed. Why was it a monumental task to find good help? The pay he was offering was fabulous. But he knew the drawback—they’d have to live out on his ranch. Most women wouldn’t accept a king’s ransom to suffer such isolation. Those from ranching and farm backgrounds weren’t any more interested than city women. Either that, or applicants were looking for a prospective husband, and Wyatt had no interest in matrimony.

The doorbell chimed, cutting into his thoughts, and he went to answer it. He swung open the door and stared down into wide, thickly lashed green eyes that stabbed through him with startling sharpness. For seconds they were locked in a silent stare, a strange experience for Wyatt. He blinked and studied her more closely. Faint freckles dotted her nose.

“Mr. Sawyer, I’m Grace Talmadge.”

“Come in. Call me Wyatt,” he said, feeling much older than his thirty-three years. How long would it take him to get rid of her? He had gotten the interviews down to twenty minutes per nanny, but this time he planned to give her ten. She couldn’t possibly be over twenty-one.

“This is your little girl?” she asked.

“My niece, Megan. I’m her guardian.”

Grace Talmadge looked at the sleeping baby in his arms. “She’s a beautiful baby.”

“Thanks, I think so. Come in,” he repeated.

When Grace passed him, he caught the scent of lemons. Her soap? He closed the door and led the way down a wide hallway, his boot heels scraping the hardwood floor. He paused and motioned her ahead into the family room, following her.

She stood looking around as if she had never been in a room like it.

Wyatt glanced around the room, which he rarely gave much attention to. It was the one room in the house that had not been changed since his childhood, with its familiar paneling, mounted bobcat, heads of deer and antelope, all animals his father had killed. Also, shelves lined with books, bear rugs on the floor, the antique rifle over the mantel.

“You must be a hunter,” she said, turning to frown at him.

“No, my father was the hunter. He liked to bring down wild, strong things,” Wyatt said, knowing that after all these years he still couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. “Have a seat, please,” he said, crossing the room to sit in a rocker. He adjusted the baby in his arms and rocked slightly.

Grace Talmadge sat across from him in the dark-blue wing chair, her legs crossed primly at the ankles and her hands folded in her lap.

“So Miss Talmadge, have you any experience as a nanny?”

“No, I haven’t,” she replied. “I’m a bookkeeper for a San Antonio sign company. I’ve had my job for five years. The owner has decided to retire and he’s closing his business, so I need to find another job.”

Five years surprised him. Wyatt decided she must have gone to work straight out of high school. “Then why do you want to be a nanny? You realize it means living out here on my ranch?”

“Yes, I understood that from the ad.”

“If you’ve never been a nanny, what are your qualifications for this job? Have you been around children a lot?” Wyatt leaned forward, about ready to escort her out of his house. She had no experience, which made him cross her off his list of possibles immediately.

“Actually, no, I haven’t, but I think I can learn.” Her voice was soft, soothing to listen to, but Wyatt’s patience was frayed from too many interviews over the past few days.

He stood. “Thank you for driving out here. I know it’s a long way, but I need someone with experience for this position.”

She stood, too, and faced him. “Have you had a lot of experience as a father?” she asked, a faint smile revealing a dimple in her right cheek.

Startled, Wyatt focused more sharply on her. “No, I didn’t have any choice in the matter, but I’m a blood—” He bit off his words, realizing what he had been about to say. Being a blood relative was no guarantee of love or care.

“At least give me a little chance here, please,” she said.

“Why do you want this job if you have no experience? You might hate being a nanny.”

She glanced at the baby in his arms. “Oh, no. I could never hate taking care of a little child.”

“Are you familiar with children?”

“I have some young cousins I’ve been around a little, but they live in Oregon, so I don’t see them often.”

He was beginning to lose patience, but he was worn out with interviews. “You’re not here looking for a husband, are you? Because I’m not a marrying man.”

She laughed, revealing white even teeth, and her green eyes sparkled. “No! Hardly. I didn’t even know you when I applied for this. I have a friend in Stallion Pass, so I’ve heard a little about you. I suspect you and I do not have anything even remotely in common.”

He agreed with her on that one. “Sorry, but some women I’ve interviewed do have marriage in mind, and they’ve been more than plainspoken about it. So if you don’t know anything about babies and you aren’t interested in the possibilities of matrimony, why are you willing to live in isolation with only me and my niece? Why do you want this job?”

“I’ve been putting myself through college. I want to pay off my college loans. I have my degree now, but I want a master’s in accounting. If I have this job, I can save money, and when your little girl is in preschool, I can take classes while she’s away.”

“You’re talking years from now. She’s a baby.”

“Time flies, and by then I’ll have money saved. Right now, I’m paying back those loans.”

“So when you get an accounting degree, I lose my nanny?”

She smiled at him as she shook her head. “No, not at all. It’ll be something I’ll have if I need it. Perhaps I can do a little accounting work while Megan is in school full-time. And if I don’t do anything else with it, I already handle my own finances now and my family’s, so I’ll be better equipped to do that.”

“Tell me about your family. Do they live in San Antonio?” he asked, noticing that she had a rosy mouth with full, sensual lips. Making an effort, he tried to pay attention to what she was telling him.

“No. They’re missionaries in Bolivia. I have two sisters—Pru, in Austin, who’s a speech therapist and a volunteer reading teacher, and my oldest sister, Faith, who’s a nurse and does volunteer work with elderly shut-ins.”

The warmth that came into her voice as she talked about her family gave Wyatt pause. He remembered his childhood friends, Josh Kellogg and Gabe Brant, who had loved their parents and siblings and been loved in return. He still remembered the shock of going to Gabe’s home when he was a child and discovering that a family could be warm and loving.

“Here’s their picture,” she said, opening her purse and pulling out a photograph. She held it out to him.

“You carry a family photo around with you?” he asked in surprise.

“Yes, I like looking at it.”

As he took the photograph, his fingers brushed her hand lightly, and he was aware of the contact. The picture showed a smiling couple, hands linked, and two brown-haired younger women, also smiling. Behind them were lush green mountains.

“These are your parents?” he asked, studying the tall, dark-haired man and the slender, red-haired woman who looked too young to have three grown daughters.

“Yes. Tom and Rose Talmadge. They married young.”

“Fifteen?”

She smiled. “Hardly! They were eighteen. You’re off just three years. They were childhood sweethearts. My grandfather on my dad’s side, Jeremy, is a minister in Fort Worth.”

“Nice family,” he said.

She pointed at the two younger women in the photo. “Those are my sisters. They went to see our parents last year, but I was still in my last semester at school and I couldn’t go.”

“So you come from a family of do-gooders, but you’re going for an education in accounting and a good-paying job?”

“That’s right. My family says I’m the practical one. Actually, I have a mind for figures and I like to make money. Money means very little to the rest of my family.”

“Well, we have something in common there,” he remarked dryly. “I like to make money, too. But I don’t think your mind for figures will be a lot of help with a baby.” He held out the picture. “Your parents look nice,” he said.

“They’re very nice,” she said, taking the picture and replacing it in her purse. “I know you don’t think much of me, but I come from a stable, hardworking family and I have good references. I think I can learn to take care of your baby.”

Wyatt was intrigued by her. This soft-spoken, freckle-faced girl was getting to him. He knew why, though. Short of the tenuous bond he’d had with his older brother, Hank, he’d never known any kind of closeness in his family, and she was reminding him of his past in a way few people ever had. Clamping his lips together, he studied her, and she gazed back at him unwaveringly.

“Sit down and we’ll talk,” he said.

She sat down, crossing her ankles and looking as prim as before. She also looked as if she would run if he said boo, yet she had stood up to him with her question about his experience as a daddy. She’d nailed him on that one, all right. The first day it had taken him hours to learn to get a diaper on Megan the right way.

“The job means living out here on the ranch. It means living in this house with Megan and me,” he reminded her.

She nodded. “Is there any reason that should worry me?”

“For one thing, there’s the isolation.”

“I don’t mind that at all.”

“For someone young, that’s unusual. These are your prime years for finding a husband. Most women don’t like isolation.”

She smiled at him, her dimple showing and that twinkle returning to her eyes. “Getting a husband is not on my list of goals. I’ll have your niece and I won’t mind the isolation at all.”

“You don’t want to marry?” he asked.

“If it works out someday, but if it doesn’t, that’s fine, too. I have a busy life.”

He didn’t believe her for a minute, but he moved on to another subject. “I have a woman who is both cook and a housekeeper, and she lives on the ranch, so she’ll be close at hand, but if you’re nanny, you’ll live here in the house.”

She nodded as if it meant nothing to her.

“Since this will be your home during the week, I need to know if there’s a boyfriend.”

“No, there’s no boyfriend. I’ve been working to put myself through school and I’m busy and I don’t date.”

“Being busy doesn’t have a whole lot to do with dating.”

She shrugged and he saw the dimple again. “All right. I’ve never found anyone who really interested me. I don’t date.”

“When did you graduate from high school?” he asked in a polite and legal way to discover her age.

She smiled. “I’m twenty-five. I graduated seven years ago.”

Megan stirred in his arms, waking and beginning to cry.

“How’s my girl?” Wyatt asked, patting her back as he stood. “Would you excuse me for a minute while I change her and get her bottle?”

“Certainly.”

He left and Grace watched him go, a mixture of feelings seething inside her. Her best friend from college, Virginia Udall, had warned her at length about Wyatt, telling her of his dark past. How in high school he’d had to quit school and leave town in disgrace. She heard tales of his wildness, crazy pranks he’d done when he was growing up, the girls he’d seduced, drunken brawls in local bars. Virginia had an older sister who’d gone to high school with Wyatt. Grace had seen her high-school yearbook and Wyatt’s freshman picture. She remembered staring at a picture of a boy who, in spite of wild hair that fell over his shoulders, was still the best-looking boy in the entire high school.

Of all the things she’d heard about Wyatt, the one that she could agree with completely was that he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. When he’d opened the door, she’d been frozen for a minute, looking at thickly lashed, coffee-colored bedroom eyes, prominent cheekbones that gave him a slightly rugged look, a straight nose, a sensual mouth and firm jawline. The long locks were gone, but his black hair was still wavy and unruly, curling onto his forehead. The man was gorgeous. Small wonder he had a reputation with the ladies.

If was difficult to relate the stories she’d heard with the caring uncle he seemed to be. She looked at the animal heads looming over her, the rifle above the mantel, the heavy leather furniture and the bear rugs. The room was masculine, lacking any feminine touch, yet she’d been told that part of the time, his brother and his wife had lived here. It was difficult to imagine a baby crawling over the bear rugs, and she wondered if the room had been that way since Wyatt’s infancy. It was even more difficult to imagine Wyatt as an infant.

Was she walking into a wolf’s den, as her friend had warned her? If she took this job, she would have to live here, alone with Wyatt Sawyer and a baby. Good looks couldn’t mask the rogue he had been. For a moment, as she had approached the house, she’d been tempted to turn around and drive back to town. Then she’d considered the rumor in Stallion Pass that Wyatt couldn’t find a nanny and was offering a huge salary. She had squared her shoulders and tried to ignore her qualms.

Wyatt strode back into the room, the baby tucked into the crook of his arm as he held a bottle for her. He sat in the rocker again, adjusting the baby and her bottle. Her tiny fingers moved over the bottle as she sucked. As he watched his niece, the loving expression on his face made Grace question the stories she had heard. The love he felt for the baby was obvious.

“Why don’t you tell me a little about the job?” she suggested.

He raised his head and looked at her as if he’d forgotten her presence. Grace wondered if he still planned to send her packing. She knew he’d intended to earlier.

“You’d live here in this house and take care of Megan. I’d be around at night, but gone most of the day. The person I hire will be caring for my niece daily, so it’s important that I have someone I can trust, someone who can give her tender, loving care and is competent with a baby.”

“I think I can do that.”

“It’ll be an isolated life in a time when you might rather be with friends or out on a date,” he said warningly.

She smiled at him. “Surely some time off comes with the job.”

“Yes, weekends. I’ll take care of Megan then. Frankly, Miss Talmadge, you’re young. I had someone who is more mature in mind, perhaps a grandmother with lots of experience handling babies. Someone who has no interest in dating. And that’s another thing—if you do date someone, I don’t want him out here at the ranch. No boyfriends allowed. I feel I need—”

Suddenly Megan shoved the bottle away and began crying lustily. Wyatt tried to feed her again and then he put her on his shoulder, patting her back and talking to her. When she screamed all the louder, he stood, jiggling her, talking to her and patting her as he walked back and forth.

“I don’t know if she senses something has happened or if she’s always been this way, but sometimes she’s fussy. The pediatrician said she’s in good health, though, maybe a bit colicky, or maybe she’s just unhappy with the world.”

Grace set down her purse and stood, crossing to him. “Let me hold her awhile and see if a change in people helps.” Grace reached up to take the baby from him. “You might get her more formula,” she suggested.

“I don’t think she’ll take more,” he said, looking at the almost empty bottle. “She doesn’t usually finish her bottles.”

Grace smiled at him and took Megan from him, settling the baby against her shoulder, walking around and patting her back as Wyatt had done. She walked to a window and turned so Megan could see outside if she cared to look, and then she moved around the room. Megan continued to scream, and Grace held her closer and began singing softly to her. In minutes Megan grew quiet and Grace continued to walk and pat her.

Wyatt returned with a half-filled bottle, watching Grace as she moved around the room with his niece. Megan snuggled against Grace, who walked to the rocker and gently eased herself down. “Give me the bottle and I’ll see if she wants more.”

Grace shifted Megan in her arms and held the bottle for her. To Wyatt’s surprise, Megan took it and began to suck while Grace rocked and sang to her.

With his hands on his hips, Wyatt studied the two of them. “For a woman who knows nothing about babies, you’re doing a pretty good job,” he said, still standing while he watched her with the baby. “Sometimes I can’t get her quiet for an hour. Nothing suits her. I’ve taken her outside, walked her, sung to her, rocked her.”

“Maybe she wants me for her nanny,” Grace said sweetly, smiling at him, and he had to laugh. Grace’s pulse jumped because his smile was seductive, irresistible, putting slight creases in his cheeks.

“I need to see some references before we go any further.”

“I have them in my purse,” she replied.

“Don’t stop with Megan!” Wyatt said hastily, grateful for the baby’s silence and apparent contentment.

“Tell me more about the job,” Grace suggested.

“I’ll be in and out. I have an office here and will have people out here sometimes when I’m working. Other times I’ll be in Stallion Pass or in San Antonio. I’ll have some trips to make. I don’t know whether you know anything about my background or not…” He paused and looked at her questioningly.

“Very little,” she replied.

“A brief family history so you’ll know why I have Megan. My mother died when I was a child. My father raised me and my two brothers. I’m the youngest. Jake, my oldest brother, was killed when he was in high school. Last year my father died.”

“I’m sorry,” Grace said.

Wyatt stiffened. “We weren’t close,” he said. “Megan is my other brother’s child. Hank and his wife, Olivia, were killed recently when their small plane crashed. They left wills appointing me as Megan’s guardian.”

“I’m glad she has you,” Grace said, and he shot her a curious glance.

“Did you grow up in this part of the country?” he asked. No one who’d known him in the past would be pleased that Megan had become Wyatt’s charge. Wyatt knew only too well the reputation he’d left behind.

“Yes. I’ve lived in San Antonio all my life.”

“And you have a friend in Stallion Pass who’s told you about me?”

“Yes, I do. Virginia Udall.”

“I don’t remember her.” Wyatt wondered to what lengths Grace Talmadge would go to get the job. “You must really want this job, Miss Talmadge,” he said, unable to keep the sharp cynicism out of his voice. “Most people in Stallion Pass aren’t happy that I’m Megan’s guardian. My deceased sister-in-law’s family is threatening legal proceedings to take Megan from me.”

Grace raised her head, and her green gaze met his with that unwavering look that held his attention totally. “I can easily see you love your niece and have her best interests at heart.”

“Well, you’re in a minority. You also have no idea how I deal with her. Maybe I take her to bars with me. You don’t know what I do.”

Grace smiled. “You would never take this baby into a bar, and I bet you put her first in your life. Am I right?”

The woman was challenging him in her own quiet way. He realized his first judgment about her immaturity was inaccurate—something that rarely happened where women were concerned.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t take her into a bar and I already love her as if she were my own. For a novice, you’re doing all right,” he observed.

Grace glanced at Megan who had snuggled down on her shoulder, her brown eyes wide open. “She’s a beautiful baby.”

“Yes, she is,” he said, a soft note entering his voice. “Want me to take her?”

“I’m fine and she’s happy. Go ahead and sit down.”

Wyatt was amused. Grace Talmadge sounded as if this was her house and he was the one being interviewed. As he sat, he arched a brow and tilted his head. “If you were to take this job and move in, since we’re both young, rumors will start. Are you prepared for that?”

She smiled at him as if he were a child with a ridiculous problem. “I have no worries about rumors. My grandparents and my parents are in Bolivia, a little far away to hear rumors. My sisters and my friends know me, and I know myself. I don’t care about anyone else or any silly rumors.”

“So you hadn’t heard wild rumors about me before you came out here?”

“I have heard some things. If you had lived up to them, I would have been gone by now, but you have been nothing but a gentleman.”

Wyatt had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “You tempt me to throw the gentlemanly facade to the winds, but I have Megan to think about, so the order of the day is to keep this impersonal and professional. One more reason I was in hopes of finding someone older. She would be more settled. There wouldn’t be this temptation to flirt with you.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that at all. Men like you aren’t tempted to flirt with women like me,” she assured him.

“If I’d kept this interview professional, I’d skim right past that, but somehow we slid out of professional a little while ago. Men like me?”

“You’re experienced and sophisticated. I imagine you like women who share your interests. I’m bookish, straitlaced and a lot of things that don’t attract sophisticated men. Flirting will be no problem, not for me and not for you. Now, how soon did you want your nanny to start?”

“As soon as possible,” he said, once again amused. In her own mild way, Grace was still taking charge, and she had neatly answered his question and taken them back into an impersonal interview.

“I want someone for the long term, not a continual turnover of nannies that will cause more upheaval in Megan’s life,” he said.

“You have no guarantees of a long-term employee with anyone you hire. An older woman could have something happen where she would have to quit just as easily as a younger one. I’m dependable. I told you, I brought references. My college grades are a 4.0 and my attendance in college and at work was and is excellent,” Grace replied, patting Megan’s back as she rocked steadily.

“Do you mind if I contact your current employer?”

“He doesn’t know I’m applying for this, but it would be fine for you to call him. Along with my references, I’ll give you his telephone number.”

“Maybe we better get down to details,” he said, leaning back and stretching out his long legs. “You would be on duty Monday through Friday, all the time, although when I’m here, I’ll spend my evenings with Megan. I want a live-in nanny who will be a stand-in for the mother Megan lost. You’ll live out here. Weekends are your own. No boyfriends on the ranch, no wild parties.”

Her eyes sparkled with the last. “Am I to understand, then, that there will be no wild parties here?”

Again, she amused him. “I meant you, Miss Talmadge, but no, there won’t be any, not by me or by my nanny.”

“I find that satisfactory.”

“You’re trusting.”

“Sometimes when you expect the best of people, they rise to the occasion. And if you don’t, I’ll be gone,” she reminded him, still rocking Megan, who had stopped fussing and fallen quiet.

“Very well. I have some other interviews. Let me have your references.” He crossed to her and Grace gazed up at him, her pulse skittering. “I’ll take Megan now,” he said.

Grace handed him the baby, and as she did, her hands brushed his and tingles raced through her. “She’s sweet.”

“You have her vote,” he said lightly. As he took Megan, her face screwed up and she began to cry again. “Hey, baby. Megan, what’s the matter?” He gave Grace a frustrated glance. “I don’t know what makes her fussy.”

“Maybe she’s cutting teeth.”

“She wasn’t doing this with you.” He walked around, patting Megan and talking to her. Grace, meanwhile, crossed the room and removed some papers from her purse.

“Here are my references,” she said, placing them on the table. “Thank you for the interview. I can let myself out.”

“Miss Talmadge.”

As she turned to see what he wanted, Megan’s wails became louder. “Just a minute. Shh, Megan,” he crooned. Her screams increased, her small face becoming red.

Grace set down her purse and crossed the room to take the baby from him. He shot her a look, but then let her have Megan, who continued to scream for a moment, then quieted and snuggled against Grace.

“Maybe she does want you for her nanny,” he remarked dryly. He had his hands on his hips, and more locks of his black hair had fallen onto his forehead. “You never asked about the salary.”

“If you want me for a nanny and I want the job, I suppose we can work something agreeable out.”

He told her what he planned to pay, and Grace stared at him in shock, because the sum was astronomical. “With a salary like that you should be able to get any nanny you want!”

“No. Women don’t want the isolation unless it includes marriage, which it does not.” He didn’t add, but he knew that his unsavory reputation had turned many away. “The job means devoting your life to a baby.”

“No, it doesn’t. The weekends are free.”

As she sat down to rock Megan, his phone rang.

“Excuse me, please,” he said, striding out of the room. In minutes he was back, watching her rock his sleeping niece. “I’ll take her now.”

“And I must be going,” Grace said, standing to hand the baby to him, too aware of their hands brushing. She picked up her purse. He followed her to the door and she paused, turning to face him. She held out her hand to shake his, conscious of his brief, warm clasp.

“Thank you for the interview. I’m very interested in the job,” she said, looking at Wyatt holding Megan. He stood in the doorway, watching her as she climbed into her car and drove away.

A cloud of dust stirred up behind her car as she headed off. Grassland spread in all directions around her, and she could see cattle grazing in the distance. She would be isolated, but the job sounded good. With the pay that Wyatt offered, she could pay off her student loans, save for her advanced degree, get a newer car and still put some money away. She was astounded he hadn’t hired someone already.

She wasn’t afraid to live out on his ranch with the man, in spite of all she had heard about him. She said a little prayer that she got the job.

When a week had passed without her hearing anything from Wyatt Sawyer, Grace’s hopes for the job dwindled. Three days later she picked up the phone at work to hear a deep, masculine voice.

“Miss Talmadge, this is Wyatt Sawyer. Have you got a moment to talk?”

“Yes, of course,” she said calmly, while her heart jumped with hope.

“Your references gave you good recommendations. I was impressed. I did a background check.”

“And?” she asked when he paused. She held her breath.

“You passed, as I’m sure you knew you would. So would you be interested in the job as our nanny?”

Two

“He’ll seduce you. You’ll get pregnant and then you’ll have to take care of your baby and his while he does what he wants and forgets all about you except as his nanny!”

Grace smiled at Virginia, who sat watching Grace as she packed.

“No, he won’t. I’m not his type.”

“You’re female. That’s his type.”

Grace laughed. “You don’t know what type of woman he likes. I think he’s all grown up now and taking on responsibility.”

“Wolves don’t change their spots,” Virginia grumbled, tossing her head and causing her long black hair to swirl across her shoulders.

“Wolves don’t have spots,” Grace replied.

“You know what I mean. Aren’t you scared he’ll creep into your bedroom some night and—”

“No, I’m not!”

“You know he had to leave town, and you’ve heard the rumors that when he was seventeen, he got a girl in his high-school class pregnant. She drowned soon after. A lot of people think he might have killed her.”

“I thought you said that the drowning was officially ruled an accident.”

“That doesn’t mean it really was an accident. I’ve heard that he slept with every girl in his class.”

Grace turned around, her hands loaded with folded clothing. “Some of those rumors are absurd, Virginia, if not impossible.”

“No, they’re not. I’ve heard that at least three kids in middle school and high school here are his children. He had to run away. He never finished high school.”

“Just stop, Virginia, and listen to me. He is paying a fabulous sum, more than triple what I’m making. I’m losing my job because the business is closing. Do you realize I can pay off my loans and start achieving my goals? And think about how much I can save.”

“It won’t be worth your life. Money isn’t everything,” Virginia replied.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous! There is nowhere else I can earn a living like this with my background. The baby is sweet, and I’m not afraid of him. He and I will hardly see each other. I’m sure he’s a busy man.”

Virginia rolled her eyes. “You’ll be a pushover for his charm. You’ve only ever dated two guys, Grace. You’re Miss Innocent and he’s Mr. Seduction, besides being the best-looking man in Texas.”

“You finally got something right there. He is very good-looking.”

“He’s a gorgeous stud! I’ve seen him in town, and he’s awesome!”

“I’ll have to invite you out to meet him.”

“You will? Promise!” Virginia wriggled with enthusiasm.

Grace laughed. “So it’s all right for you to come out and meet him, but it’s not all right for me to work for him?”

Virginia pursed her lips. “That’s right. You’ll be living under the same roof with him. I’ll be visiting. You’ll be his servant. I will have an independent status.” She became solemn. “All joking aside, I’m not sure the money will be worth the heartbreak. I think he’ll break your heart and grind up the little pieces.”

“If he does, I’ll have no one to blame but myself.”

“Mark my words, if you aren’t careful you’re going to fall for him. No red-blooded woman could live under the same roof with that gorgeous hunk and resist him. According to rumors, no woman has ever been able to resist him.”

“I’m not his type, I told you.”

“That won’t stop him from seducing you or breaking your heart.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Your parents don’t know anything about your taking this job, do they?”

“Not yet, but I’ve written them and they’ll think it’s wonderful. They let their daughters lead their own lives.”

“And your sisters are in San Antonio and don’t know anything about Wyatt Sawyer. Are you going to tell them about your new boss?”

“Of course, but my view of him may be a tad different from your view of him. Now stop worrying.”

Virginia stretched and slid off the bed. “Let me carry that suitcase to your car. I will worry about you, by the way. He’s wild, Grace. All the Sawyer boys were and two of them are dead because of that wild streak. The first died in a car wreck—he was driving a hundred miles an hour, I’ve been told—and this other brother thought he could fly through a snowstorm when he was warned not to. And people’ve always said Wyatt Sawyer is wilder than his brothers.”

“I’m taking care of his baby, not him. So stop worrying about me.”

“I’m know I’m being a worrier, but there’s just cause.”

“We’ll see,” Grace said, snapping shut the large suitcase.

Early Monday morning, Grace slowed at the front gate to the ranch, drove over a cattle guard and beneath a wrought-iron arch with the S Bar brand. White pipe fencing stretched for miles on either side, and the rolling land was dotted with oaks and cedars. On a far hill she saw Herefords grazing. Far in the distance she spotted a solitary white horse galloping across a field. The ranch was a beautiful place, and she looked forward to her new job. She tried to avoid thinking about Wyatt’s reputation or Virginia’s warnings. Following a hard-packed dirt road, she crossed a wide, wooden bridge, boards rattling beneath her tires.

She looked down at Cotton Creek, a thin, silvery stream of water. As she neared his house, she topped a hill and saw his sprawling two-story ranch house, more houses beyond the main one, a barn and corral and an assortment of buildings beyond the house and a four-car garage. As she recalled from her first visit, the whole place had a prosperous, well-kept appearance. When she finally reached the house, she saw a shiny black pickup parked on the drive at the side of the house, a large black motorcycle parked beyond it and a sleek, dark-green sports car parked on its other side. She frowned, hoping he didn’t take the baby on the bike.

When she walked up to the door and pressed for the bell, her pulse raced. All morning she’d had butterflies in her stomach, but now her nervousness increased and the butterflies had turned into stampeding elephants. The door swung open, and she looked up into Wyatt Sawyer’s dark eyes and tried not to stand there tongue-tied and starry-eyed. The man was sinfully handsome!

“I thought you might change your mind about the job.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” she said, too conscious of him, noticing the scent of his aftershave. He stood facing her with his hands on his narrow hips, and he wore faded jeans and a T-shirt. He gazed beyond her. “Why don’t you drive around back? I can bring your things in for you.”

As she turned and walked away, her back tingled. She glanced over her shoulder to see that he was still standing in the open doorway, watching her. Taking a deep breath, too aware now of herself, she hurried to her car. She was wearing her simple navy cotton skirt and a white cotton blouse, and she suspected he wasn’t noticing her as a woman. She wondered if he was debating with himself the wisdom of having offered her the job. He had made it clear he’d intended to hire someone older and more experienced.

When she drove to the back, he came striding out of the house, radiating energy and strength. At the same time, she couldn’t stop thinking about the ugly rumors about him when he was in high school. “Just keep your distance,” she said quietly to herself.

Wondering what she had gotten herself into, she popped the trunk and got out of the car.

Wyatt put a bag under each arm and a bag in each hand. “Leave ’em and I’ll get everything for you.”

“I can take something,” she said, picking up a bag. All of her suitcases had wheels, but he could doubtless see that and evidently didn’t want to bother. She had to hurry to keep up with his long-legged stride.

“As soon as we put these in your room, I’ll give you a tour of the house. This is a good time because Megan just fell asleep.”

They entered a spacious kitchen that had a terrazzo floor, fine oak woodwork and pale-yellow tile countertops with a copper vent over the built-in stove. Grace’s spirits lifted a notch as she surveyed her surroundings. An oval oak table stood in the adjoining breakfast room, which had a large bay window with a window seat that looked out on the rolling grounds. The kitchen was light and cheerful, far different from the gloomy family room where he’d interviewed her.

Grace followed Wyatt down a wide hallway, passing beautifully decorated rooms. She noticed her surroundings, but she was more keenly aware of the man striding in front of her, holding four of her heavy suitcases as if the things were empty.

She had brushed off her friend’s warnings about Wyatt, but now that she was here with him, qualms and questions assailed her. Was she entering a wolf’s den, walking into trouble that might cause upheaval in her placid life? Could she possibly keep from falling for him even if he barely noticed her and treated her as professionally as possible? Were the terrible rumors about him true?

He disappeared into a room and she followed, stepping into a large bedroom with an appeal that took her breath. It was elegantly furnished in white and blue, and another grand view could be seen through wide windows.

“This is beautiful!” she exclaimed, looking around and comparing it to her tiny bedroom at home.

“Thanks,” he replied casually. “There’s an adjoining bath, too. Let me give you a tour, and then we’ll get the rest of your things. I’ll have to warn you right now, Megan has had a little cold. She’s been fussy for several days.”

“That’s fine. I can deal with fussiness.”

“I hope so,” he said, studying her as if he could read her thoughts.

“You still sound doubtful, Mr. Sawyer—”

“Wyatt. Mind if I call you Grace?”

“Of course not. Why did you hire me if you have such doubts?”

He clamped his lips together, and she realized that either he hadn’t found anyone else he thought would fit the job or no one else had wanted the job.

“You didn’t have a choice, did you?”

“I just want you to let me know if you want out of this. A screaming baby can shred the patience of some people,” Wyatt replied.

“She won’t shred mine,” Grace said, smiling. “She’s a little baby. But I promise you I’ll let you know if I want to quit. It’s not Megan who worries me.”

She wanted to bite her tongue and wished with all her heart she could take back those last words. His brows arched, and he focused on her with a look that made her want to be anywhere else but in his presence.

“Ah, all those stories you’ve heard about me, no doubt. The wild man of Stallion Pass. Lago County’s bad boy. Is that what worries you?”

She decided this is what people referred to when they talked about being between a rock and a hard place. If she told him what was really worrying her, that she was attracted to her handsome employer, that would be dreadful. But it was equally appalling to tell him that his reputation worried her. Why had she blurted out what she had?

“In caring for Megan, I may have a difficult time pleasing you,” she said.

One brow arched higher, and he gave her an intense look. “I don’t think that’s what you were referring to at all.”

“Maybe not,” she said, feeling her face grow warm, “but I think we should leave it at that.”

He shrugged and turned away. “Come on, I’ll show you the house.” He crossed the room to open a door. “Your room adjoins the nursery. I hope that’s all right.”

“Of course.” She glanced into a pink room with a circus motif and almost as large as her bedroom. She could see the baby sleeping in her crib, a mobile of Disney characters hanging above one end. Wyatt closed the door and Grace realized how close to him she stood. She stepped back quickly and he moved past her. “We could go through the nursery, but we’ll go around it, instead. My room connects to it on the other side.”

This was less-than-thrilling news. Grace frowned and tried to push aside her worries.

As she walked down the hall with him, he motioned her into a room that ran the length of one end of the house. His king-size bed was covered in a deep-green comforter. Surprisingly, shelves with books lined one wall. “That’s a lot of books. Do you do much reading?”

“Nope. This house is much like Hank and Olivia left it, and the books were theirs. I’m slowly going through things and changing what I want to change.”

A broad stone fireplace was at another end of the room with Navajo rugs on the highly polished hardwood floor. A bowl of chocolates sat on the corner of a desk. Wyatt picked the bowl up and offered her one. When she declined with a shake of her head, he took a dark chocolate and set the bowl back on the desk.

“You have a beautiful home.”

“Thanks, but I can’t take credit. My sister-in-law did all the decorating, and they stayed out here some, but not often. She preferred to live in San Antonio. The only room she didn’t do over was the family room, and I’m having it done soon. I’m not living with that reminder of my childhood.”

He sounded so bitter that Grace glanced at him sharply. “Your childhood wasn’t happy?”

“Hardly.”

“I’m sorry. I was fortunate there.”

“It was a long time ago, and you’re lucky.”

“I can settle in while Megan is sleeping,” she said, reminding herself to keep things impersonal. “You show me what you want me to do.”

He nodded and gave her a tour of the house, part of which had been built by his great-great-grandfather; the rest had been added through the years. In the paneled room that was his office, he motioned to a stack of letters on the edge of an otherwise clean desk. “Those are applications for the nanny position. I could have kept on interviewing for the rest of the month.”

Amazed, she turned to him. “If you have so many possibilities, why did you hire me? Were you in a rush for some reason?”

“Nope.” He rested his hands on his hips again. “I’ve interviewed too many women to count and still had all those applications. I glanced through them. I’m the new guy in the neighborhood, and a lot of single women want a date. It’s not that I’m so adorable or charming. I’m just new here.”

“You’re not new at all. You grew up here,” she protested.

“I’ve been away a long time, and some people don’t know me or anything about me.”

“And how did you know that I didn’t apply because I wanted to date you?”

Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “You didn’t send me a cute, flirty résumé. You sounded quite earnest about the job. And when I asked if you had marriage in mind, you said no.” His brows arched. “Did I assume wrong?”

“Oh, my, no!” she replied, and saw the corners of his mouth lift in a faint smile. “I’m sorry,” she added quickly. “It’s just that this is a job—dating has no part in it.”

“I’m teasing. Forget it. You told me you weren’t interested.” He picked up the letters and walked around the desk to toss them in the trash.

“How do you know that there wasn’t that one perfect, older, mature, grandmotherly type in those letters?”

“I read through them. I’ve had so many interviews, I don’t think I can stand one more.”

“So I was sort of chosen by default.”

“No, not really. That day you were out here, you had a connection with Megan. That was important.”

The dining room was another large room with a fireplace. As they walked into the room, she heard a baby’s wail through the intercom.

“Megan is awake. You can come with me to get her.”

Grace hurried with him, and at the nursery door, he stepped aside to let her enter first, but then he moved past her to pick up the crying baby. As he bent over the crib, his T-shirt clung tightly, revealing the ripple of muscles. Grace watched the flex of muscles in his back and arms. His broad shoulders tapered to a slim waist and narrow hips. How was she going to work with this man daily and keep everything impersonal? Just watching him, she felt flushed and warm.

“Have you ever changed a diaper before?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. After my interview with you, I baby-sat a friend’s three-month-old baby several times so I could practice.”

“Good,” he said, holding Megan on his shoulder and patting her. She quieted and he moved to a changing table, changing her diaper swiftly and then picking her up again. “I think I better get a bottle first and then I’ll show you where all her things are and go over her schedule.”

“Let me give her the bottle so she’ll begin to get accustomed to me,” Grace said. Wyatt nodded and handed Megan to her.

“Hi, Megan,” Grace said softly, holding the baby up on her shoulder and patting her. From that moment, for the rest of the day, Grace was busy with the baby and learning about the house and schedules and what Wyatt expected.

“I’ll take care of her at night,” Wyatt said that evening when he gave Megan a bottle. “The only time you have to take over duties after bedtime is when I’m away. Whenever I’m around in the evening, I’ll take care of her.”

“I can help. After all, I’ll be here, anyway,” Grace said.

Megan was fussing and Grace and Wyatt took turns walking her, the only thing that seemed to quiet her. At one point Wyatt told Grace to eat supper. Then she looked after Megan so he could eat.

While Wyatt got Megan to sleep, Grace went to her room to unpack. She could hear him in the nursery, talking and singing softly to Megan, and later, the creak of the rocking chair.

Grace put her clothes in a large chest of drawers, looking again at the beautiful room where she would live. Too clearly, though, she could remember Wyatt standing in it, watching her curiously with his brows arched. There were moments when he seemed to focus his full attention on her, and those moments made her pulse race.

It was difficult to reconcile the man who was rocking and singing to a tiny baby in the next room with the person who ran out on a young woman he got pregnant when they were in high school. If anyone seemed the perfect, totally caring father to a baby, it was Wyatt Sawyer. Perhaps the years had changed him.

It was after midnight and the house was quiet when she showered and dressed in her short blue nightgown. She brushed out her hair, climbed into bed and fell asleep.

She had no idea what time it was when she stirred at the sound of Megan crying. She remembered Wyatt saying he would get up in the night with Megan, so she tried to go back to sleep, but the baby continued crying until finally Grace threw back the sheet and got up. She pulled on her blue cotton robe and hurried to the nursery to check on the baby. She noticed the open door to Wyatt’s room. How could he sleep through Megan’s crying?

Avoiding glancing in the direction of Wyatt’s bed, Grace rushed to close his door. While Megan cried, Grace switched on a small table lamp.

“Are you hungry, sweetie?” she asked softly, picking the baby up and walking her, trying to quiet her. She remembered where Wyatt kept formula and bottles and turned to carry Grace to the kitchen.

Just then the door to Wyatt’s room flew open. He started into the room, saw Grace with Megan and froze.

Three

Wyatt had heard Megan crying and then rolled out of bed, yanking on his briefs. For more than two weeks he’d been up most nights and he was groggy. He swung open the nursery door, started into the room and stopped abruptly. A light was on, and Grace was holding Megan in her arms.

Neither of them moved. He stared into her startled green eyes. Whatever surprise she felt, he was certain his was greater.

Coming out of a deep sleep, he had temporarily forgotten her presence. Now he faced a woman who looked entirely different from the person he’d interviewed and hired. Her riot of red hair was down, framing her face and tumbling over her shoulders. She held Megan gently in her arms. She looked disheveled, earthy, appealing. He felt something twist deep inside. She wore a cotton robe that had been pushed open by the baby resting against her. Beneath the robe she wore a skimpy, blue nightie that revealed lush breasts and long, shapely legs. His gaze snapped up to catch her looking at him, and her cheeks were pink. He realized he was only in his briefs.

“Sorry. I forgot,” he said in a husky voice.

She turned swiftly, trying to close her robe. “I’ll get her bottle. I heard her crying and didn’t think you would wake. I can take care of her.”

With Megan in her arms, Grace made her escape from the room. Wyatt still stood there in shock. He’d hired a beautiful woman. Standing there in the soft light, she’d looked gorgeous. He rubbed his eyes, wishing he could erase the image and go back to seeing her as plain and his nanny and nothing more. But there was no erasing the image that taunted him now.

“Hell,” he muttered, and returned to his room to yank on his jeans. He raked his fingers through his hair and headed for the kitchen. “I knew I should have hired someone a thousand years old. A grandmother with wrinkles and experience.”

Grace was trying to mix formula with one hand, jiggling Megan who continued to cry with the other arm. Grace’s back was to the doorway, but she turned to look at him when he came in. She had her robe pulled together, but he still could imagine the delectable body underneath the cotton.

“I haven’t changed her yet,” Grace said. “If you’ll do that, I’ll have her bottle ready when you’re done and I can give it to her.”

“Sure,” he said, without thinking about what he was answering. Crossing the room, he took the baby from her. The moment he was close enough to reach for Megan, Grace looked up at him. Her eyes seemed to envelop him and pull him into depths that were filled with mystery. He could smell a fresh, soapy scent and that riotous red hair was an invitation for a man to bury his fingers in its softness. Her skin was rosy, perfect even with the smattering of freckles on her nose.

He dropped his gaze to her mouth, which was full and tempting. What would happen if he leaned down and kissed her? Even worse, as he stared at her unable to move, he could feel the tension snap in the air between them. Sparks sizzled and danced. He didn’t want any complications in his life right now, and he sure as hell didn’t want to find his nanny so physically appealing.

Tearing his eyes from her, he took the baby, too aware of his hands touching Grace as he did so. Megan had her small fist wound around the collar of Grace’s robe, pulling it open and for a brief instant, Wyatt looked at soft curves and flawless, rosy skin. His mouth went dry and he moved automatically, taking the baby and turning away.

“Come on, Megan. I’ll get you changed and fed,” he said, hurrying out of the room. His voice was husky and raw.

When in his life had he run from a good-looking woman? He was in a sweat, too aware of Grace. She hadn’t been with him twenty-four hours. He swore under his breath and looked at Megan, who was still bawling. “Sorry about my language, darlin’,” he said even though he knew she neither heard nor understood him.

He changed her diaper swiftly and scooped her up, intending to carry her back to the kitchen, but when he turned, Grace stood in the nursery doorway. She had her robe belted and buttoned, but the last button stopped above her knees. She carried the bottle and came toward him. He took a deep breath, noticing that with each step, her robe flipped open, revealing brief, tantalizing flashes of her legs. He couldn’t remember what she’d worn during the day or for her interview, but both times her legs had been covered almost to her ankles.

“Let me hold her. I’ll give her her bottle,” Grace said. “I’m not sleepy now.”

Neither was he, although for the past few nights he’d thought he would have given away the ranch just to have someone watch Megan so he could sleep.

Wordlessly, he handed over his niece, once again acutely aware of touching Grace, of standing close to her, knowing he was going through some firsts in his life. When had he ever been around a good-looking woman and not flirted with her? Never until now.

“I can feed her if you want to go back to bed,” he offered, unable to keep the gruff note out of his voice, fighting the image of Grace in bed.

“I don’t mind,” she said. “I’ve been getting plenty of sleep lately, and I’ll bet you haven’t.”

“No, I haven’t. Thanks,” he said abruptly, then turned and went back to his room. He closed the door, crossed the room and punched his pillow hard. “Hellfire!” he whispered.

Grace’s soft voice singing a lullaby came through the door, and he glared at the door with his fists on his hips. Megan was quiet, and he could hear Grace singing, hear the creak of the rocker and all too well, could picture Grace holding his niece in her arms.

What was he going to do? He raked his fingers through his hair.

Eating a piece of chocolate, he paced the room and stopped to stare out the darkened window. Yard lights lit up the fenced area around his house. Beyond that, the trees created inky shadows beneath a quarter moon. It still surprised him that all this belonged to him now. Everything had happened so fast after Hank and Olivia’s fatal accident. He needed to get back to California to see about his commercial real-estate business there. He was signed up for a bull-riding event in an upcoming rodeo in Sacramento next month. He had one in San Antonio, too, the last week of July. He could either withdraw from the California rodeo, or—what he’d planned—take Megan and her nanny with him.

Scratch that plan. He raked his fingers through his hair. He glanced over his shoulder at the closed door and could still hear Grace singing softly.

He could fire her tomorrow. Just tell her it wasn’t going to work out, pay her a huge lump sum and send her packing. He could find a day care for Megan—if Stallion Pass had such a thing. He shook his head. Megan had lost her parents, and he didn’t want to cause more upheaval in her life. He wanted her cared for at home with someone he could rely on.

Someone mature, kind and loving who had already raised children and loved them. Not a little redheaded sorceress who had a body that was sinfully tempting and a sharp mind.

He had never been in a dilemma like this. Attractive, sexy women had always been part of his life, but not as employees. He groaned and raked his fingers through his hair, pacing the room.

Through the years, he and Hank had kept in touch, and as he’d promised, Hank had always kept Wyatt’s whereabouts a secret, because Wyatt had wanted to cut all ties to Stallion Pass and his father. No one here had known anything about him except Hank. Hank hadn’t even told Olivia. Wyatt remembered when Hank had called him about his will. Hank and Olivia were making wills, and he asked Wyatt if he would be Megan’s guardian if something happened to both of them. Olivia didn’t want her parents to be Megan’s guardians, because they had little interest in their granddaughter, and Olivia considered them too old to be bringing up a baby.

Wyatt had agreed, thinking the chances of Hank and Olivia dying at the same time were very slight. But the impossible had happened.

Now here he was with little Megan and in dire need of another nanny. He didn’t like the thought of going through more interviews. He paced the room and debated what to do, until he noticed the time. Grace had stopped singing and Megan had stopped crying, but he could still hear the creak of the rocking chair.

He might as well relieve Grace and let her sleep because he wasn’t going to, anyway.

“Dammit,” he whispered, still fighting to keep images of Grace out of his head, trying to ignore the instant desire that had ignited when he’d been with her.

He was tempted to get on his motorcycle and ride through the night. He sighed. This was one time he couldn’t escape. He had a baby to care for now.

He opened the door to the nursery quietly. A small lamp was still lit. It had a pink-striped shade and circus animals around its wooden base and shed a soft halo of light, leaving corners of the room in shadows.

Grace rocked, her robe open over her knees, her head tilted against the chair. Megan was sprawled against her, her little arm around Grace’s neck. With her curls framing her face, her head back to reveal the graceful curve of her pale, slender throat, Grace looked beautiful. She was both tempting and maternal with the baby in her arms. Her eyes were closed, but she rocked steadily, so he knew she had to be awake.

Megan’s eyes were also closed, but Wyatt knew how easily those brown eyes could open.

He moved closer. His pulse jumped, his mouth had gone dry and he was once again on fire. He paused before he got too close.

“Grace,” he whispered. “Why don’t you let me take her now and you go to bed?”

Her eyes came open slowly and met his, and the effect was like a blow to his middle. He wanted to lean down and kiss her. Sparks ignited and sizzled, and he couldn’t imagine that she didn’t feel something.

“I’m fine. I really don’t mind. I thought you’d be asleep,” she said, sounding sleepy.

“I can’t sleep,” he snapped. “If I’m going to be up, anyway, I might as well take her.”

Grace looked at the baby in her arms. Megan’s eyes had come open and she stared solemnly at Grace. “She’s not asleep.”

“I wish I had her energy. I’ve always thought I needed little sleep, but she can outlast me,” he said, wishing Grace would hand over Megan and get the hell out of the room. He was going to have to fire Grace. He couldn’t go through this day after day and night after night.

“I hate to disturb her,” Grace said. “She’s awake but barely, and she’s content. I’ll rock her. You go to bed. If you can’t sleep, go drink some hot chocolate.”

He wanted to gnash his teeth. “I don’t need hot chocolate,” he said abruptly, and turned to leave the room. At the door he paused. “I’m going for a ride on my bike. You can reset the alarm if you want, but Napoleon is in the yard and he’s a good watchdog. We’ve got lights everywhere around the house, too.”

“We’ll be fine. I’ll reset the alarm if I put her down and go to bed.”

He did not want to think about Grace going to bed. Under his roof, in his house, only a small room away from his. Why the hell had he hired her?

He closed the door quietly, yanked on a T-shirt and boots and pocketed his keys. He walked through the house, turned off the alarm, stepped outside and locked the door behind him.

A shaggy dog came bounding up, and Wyatt scratched his ears. “Napoleon, you watch the house, y’hear? I’ll be back.”

The dog trotted at his heels until Wyatt stepped through the back gate. He closed and latched the gate and looked at the big dog, a cross between a collie and a German shepherd. “You’re on guard now.”

The dog wagged his tail and sat. Wyatt strode across the drive into the open garage to get his bike. In minutes he roared away, racing through the night and heading up the road.

Within two hours he was back, sleepy, grumpy and as on fire as he’d been when he left. Never in his life had a woman tied him in knots like this. And she wasn’t doing anything except just being there.

“Get a grip,” he told himself, striding toward the house and praying Megan and Grace were asleep. He would take a cold shower, have a slug of whiskey and hope he could get a few hours’ sleep. He was too aware that the sun would be coming over the horizon all too soon, and he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since he had inherited Megan.

He would fire Grace. For his peace of mind, she had to go. Every time he made that decision, he thought about being in the lurch again for a nanny and all the interviews he would have to do.

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