Dynasties

January 2020

Dynasties: The Jarrods

February 2020

Dynasties: The Ashtons

March 2020

Dynasties: The Danforths

April 2020

Dynasties: The Barones

May 2020

Dynasties: The Lassiters

June 2020

Dynasties: The Montoros

About the Authors

LEANNE BANKS is a New York Times bestselling author with over sixty books to her credit. A book lover and romance fan from even before she learned to read, Leanne has always treasured the way that books allow us to go to new places and experience the lives of wonderful characters. Always ready for a trip to the beach, Leanne lives in Virginia with her family and her Pomeranian muse.

CAROLINE CROSS writes romance because life is endlessly challenging and she believes we all need an occasional reminder that good people and true love do exist—if one just looks hard enough and has faith in happy endings. Winner of numerous awards, including a RITA® Award for Best Short Contemporary, she lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband of two decades, has two wonderful daughters, and depends on her family and friends to keep her grounded. A devoted romance reader herself, she always hopes that her books can bring others a little of the enjoyment and satisfaction she feels when she reads her own favourite authors.

SHERI WHITEFEATHER is an award-winning, national bestselling author. Her novels are generously spiced with love and passion. She has also written under the name Cherie Feather. She enjoys travelling and going to art galleries, libraries and museums. Visit her website at www.sheriwhitefeather.com where you can learn more about her books and find links to her Facebook and Twitter pages. She loves connecting with readers.

Dynasties: The Barones

The Playboy & Plain Jane

Leanne Banks

Sleeping Beauty’s Billionaire

Caroline Cross

Sleeping with Her Rival

Sheri WhiteFeather

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90695-5

DYNASTIES: THE BARONES

The Playboy & Plain Jane © 2003 Harlequin Books S.A. Sleeping Beauty’s Billionaire © 2003 Harlequin Books S.A. Sleeping With Her Rival © 2003 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

The Playboy & Plain Jane

Dedication

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Sleeping Beauty’s Billionaire

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Sleeping with Her Rival

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Epilogue

About the Publisher

The Playboy & Plain Jane

Leanne Banks

Special thanks to Marilyn Puett

for being the silver lining in a dark cloud.

This book is dedicated to all the wanna-be

girl jocks.

I’m right there with you!

Prologue

She’d been a blue-eyed beauty with a body that could send a man’s brains straight to his crotch. She’d also had a faithless heart of glass that could cut a man to ribbons.

If Nicholas Barone had been a superstitious man, he would have admitted that the Valentine’s Day curse on his family continued. Almost two years ago, on February 14, he’d bought the ring and been prepared to propose to Danielle Smithson.

He remembered using his key to enter her apartment, wanting to surprise her, only to overhear her boasting to a friend on the phone that she was going to “bag the big one tonight.” Justifiably confident of her allure, Danielle had feigned an attentiveness he’d later learned was purely calculated to achieve her goal. In this case, Danielle had been willing to pretend she adored Nicholas in order to get her hands on his family’s money.

Bitterness still filled him at the memory of the ugly scene that had followed. When she’d been unable to deny her deception, she’d done her feminine best to placate him. Nicholas might be American through and through, but his Italian blood ran hot, and he’d sworn he would have nothing to do with her.

Even at this moment, standing in the darkness of his daughter’s nursery on this January day, he felt anger roll through him with renewed strength. He looked down at the sleeping one-year-old daughter he hadn’t known existed until ten days ago. Just after Nicholas had broken up with Danielle, she’d found another man with a hefty bank account and had apparently tried to pawn Molly off as his daughter.

He took a deep breath and exhaled a fraction of his bitterness. Drawing solace from the sight of Molly’s innocence and vulnerability, he heard footsteps from behind him. His mother and father, he suspected. His father would deny it, but when it came to his eight children, both of his parents were professional worriers. When Nicholas recalled the shenanigans he and his siblings had tried to pull over the years, it was a wonder his parents hadn’t been driven over the edge.

Feeling his mother’s hand on his arm, Nicholas turned. His father, a man who’d always managed to inspire respect despite the fact that he stood under six feet tall, shook his head as he glanced at the crib. Fierce anger emanated from him. “I’ll never forgive that woman for keeping your child from you. To think you wouldn’t have learned you even had a daughter if Danielle hadn’t died. I can never forgive her for that.”

His father’s bitterness echoed Nicholas’s. “We don’t need to spend energy forgiving Danielle. She’s dead. I have my hands full helping Molly make the adjustment to living with me and accepting me as her father.”

His mother squeezed his arm again. “Molly will accept you in no time. I can still help take care of her.”

Carlo Barone put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I don’t want you overdoing. You may still turn men on their ears when you walk into a room, but you shouldn’t be chasing after a one-year-old all day and night.”

Moira Barone might not have been born Italian, but she knew how to stand her ground. She lifted her red-haired head with a trace of defiance. “If you can continue to be CEO of the top gelati company in America, why can’t I chase my one-year-old granddaughter?”

“I continue to be CEO because Nicholas is COO and I can trust him. My children have finally left home. I have earned the right to my wife’s undivided attention at the end of the day. No?” he demanded.

Nicholas hid a grin at his father’s possessiveness. At sixty-three, his mother was still the light of his father’s life. “I appreciate you helping take care of her the past ten days and I still want you to be involved with Molly,” Nicholas assured his mother. Although his mother had been perfectly willing to care for Molly, Nicholas knew his daughter was demanding. The poor child cried frequently since she’d arrived at his home.

“Because Molly has lost her mother, I know I need to create a stable environment for her. My housekeeper does an excellent job, but taking care of children isn’t her forte. With my demanding position, I need a nanny. I’ve already contacted a couple of reputable agencies.”

His mother’s eyebrows knitted in concern as she glanced into the crib. “If you’re sure,” she said uncertainly.

“I am,” Nicholas told her.

“Nicholas is right. He will take care of the bambina and we will be good grandparents,” his father said.

“I can still visit her as often as I want?” his mother asked.

Nicholas’s heart softened. His mother had already grown attached to her first grandchild despite Molly’s crying jags. “Every day, if you like.”

Moira sighed, turning to Nicholas. “She is such a beautiful child. She looks just like you when you were a baby. Curly black hair, blue eyes and a stubborn chin.” She slid a sideways glance at her husband. “You got the dark hair and stubborn chin from your father. But like your father, you’re a good man.” She met Nicholas’s gaze. “You’ll be a good father. Molly’s a very lucky girl.”

Nicholas’s heart squeezed. His mother’s vote of confidence was a balm on his troubled soul. He was still reeling from the news that at thirty-five he was a father, and heaven knew, he wasn’t an expert on one-year-old girls. “Thanks, Mom.”

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “It’s only the truth,” she said, and glanced at her husband. “I’ll get my coat.”

Carlo squeezed his wife’s hand. “I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

She nodded. “Just remember to keep your voice down. Sleeping baby.”

As soon as his mother left, his father cleared his throat. “If you need anything, you must call me immediately.”

Nicholas nodded. “I’ll handle this.”

“I know you will,” Carlo said. “You’ve met every challenge put before you. I’d hoped you would find a love like the one your mother and I share…”

Bitterness suffused Nicholas again. “I found Danielle, instead.”

“You’re young,” Carlo protested. “Your life isn’t over.”

“My focus now is on providing for my daughter. With a nanny, I’ll have no need for a wife.”

“A nanny can’t take care of all of a man’s needs.”

“A man doesn’t have to marry to take care of those needs,” Nicholas said dryly.

Carlo wagged his finger. “One day you will understand the needs of the heart. But for now you’re right. You must concentrate on taking care of your daughter.” He hesitated a moment and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You were going to propose to Danielle on Valentine’s Day, weren’t you?”

Nicholas knew his father was remembering the Valentine’s Day curse that had left its mark on more than one generation of Barones. His father had never professed belief or disbelief, just an underlying wariness. “Yes, I was. We fought and she left town.”

A thoughtful silence followed. Carlo glanced at Molly. “If the curse is true, this time it has brought you a gift.”

One

Gail Fenton looked at the doozy of a run in her panty hose and tried to tug the hem of her dress lower to conceal it. She wasn’t having a good hair day, either, but with her noncompliant red curls, she couldn’t remember ever having a good hair day. Perfect grooming probably wasn’t a requirement for the job of nanny to a one-year-old, but looking like a slob during the interview wouldn’t help her chances, either. Then again, if Gail felt out of place in the elegant formal living room of Nicholas Barone’s luxurious town house, how must his poor little girl feel?

Nicholas Barone’s assistant, Mrs. Peabody, who explained she’d come from the office to assist her boss with these interviews, looked over her half glasses. “Your résumé says you hold a degree in computer science. Why do you want to be a nanny?”

Translation: Are you nuts to give up the prestige of a computer position to change diapers? Gail was accustomed to the question and had her answer ready. “I find working with children much more rewarding. Children smile, hug and laugh. Computers don’t.”

“Then why didn’t you major in early-childhood education or something similar?” Mrs. Peabody asked.

“My brother’s influence,” Gail confessed. Her brother, Adam, had wielded his influence in several areas, and with both parents gone, Gail had been susceptible to his guidance until recently. “My brother encouraged me to major in computer science because it’s a marketable field and I’ve always been pretty good with computers. But during the summer before I graduated, I took a position as a nanny and loved it. After I graduated, I worked with Manatee Computer Services. The company recently downsized, and I saw this as my opportunity to do something I want to do—work with a child.”

“Your references are excellent,” Mrs. Peabody mused. “You realize this is a live-in position?” she asked.

“That’s no problem for me,” Gail said. “My roommate is getting married.”

Mrs. Peabody nodded thoughtfully. “I think Mr. Barone should meet you. Please wait while I get him.”

Gail felt a jiggle of nerves in her stomach. “I’ll be here,” she said with a smile.

As soon as the woman left, Gail rose and paced around the beautiful room. At her age, twenty-five, she was surprised at her case of nerves. Although she’d wanted a career change, she hadn’t realized how much she wanted this job. She wanted more of a feeling of connection in her life. She stopped pacing to study a collection of family photographs on the wall.

The Barones. There was a passel of them, and their names and faces frequently graced the Boston Globe society and business pages. She wondered what it would be like to have that many brothers and sisters, and felt a pinch of longing. With both her parents gone, it was just Gail and her brother now, and although Adam was generous with his advice, he was busy with his own career. Gail had plenty of friends, but since college she’d missed feeling as if she really belonged.

The sound of a woman’s cultured voice and a child’s loud wail broke her reverie. Gail peeked out the doorway and spotted a statuesque, red-haired, older woman in what was obviously a designer dress. Not one smoothly coiffed hair was out of place, Gail noticed in awe as she absently smoothed her hand over her own mass of curls.

The woman held a howling, dark-haired little girl in her arms. She glanced up with a pained expression and met Gail’s gaze. “Our Molly is still adjusting.”

Curious, Gail craned her neck to get a better look at her potential charge. “A lot of us feel a little cranky when we first wake up. Amazing what a diaper change, juice and a cookie can do.”

The woman smiled and walked closer. “A diaper change for adults?”

“Well, you must admit some adults act like their underwear is a little too tight, and they don’t have the excuse of a wet diaper.”

The woman gave a throaty chuckle. “So true. I’m Moira Barone and this is Molly. Sorry I can’t offer my hand.”

“I’m Gail Fenton. Pleased to meet you and Molly.” Gail gasped at the beauty of the screaming child. “My goodness, she’s gorgeous. Even with her face red as a tomato.”

Moira chuckled again, then shook her head. “I think she’s just getting herself more worked up.”

Gail blew into the baby’s face. Molly paused in her screaming and opened her eyes, her long black eyelashes damp with tears. She stared hard at Gail, and her lower lip protruded as if she was gearing up for another cry.

“Peekaboo,” Gail said, and moved out of sight.

Silence, followed by a hiccup.

Gail popped back. “Peekaboo,” she said with a smile and moved away.

Silence again. Molly turned her head to search for her.

Gail moved back into view again. “Peekaboo.”

A slow smile curved Molly’s mouth.

Moira shook her head in amazement. “I have eight grown children, and I had completely forgotten peekaboo.”

“Too many garden-club meetings with society matrons,” a man said as he strolled into the room with Mrs. Peabody by his side.

Gail glanced at the man and her jaw dropped. Well over six feet tall, jet-black hair, chiseled facial features and the lean, muscular kind of body that no doubt had women littering his path. He probably had to beat females off with a stick. The glint of ruthlessness in his eyes affected her stomach. Other women would try to tame him, but she possessed neither the attractiveness, sex appeal or polish necessary to match wits with or seduce a man like Nicholas Barone. Besides, she knew he’d never look twice at her. Darn shame, but that was the truth. Oh well, she supposed she could admire him from afar.

She instinctively turned to Moira. The older woman was safer. “The power of peekaboo is greatly underestimated, but I’m sure you would have remembered it soon enough.”

“Perhaps necessity might have jogged my memory,” Moira said, looking down at her grandchild. “Or desperation.”

“And what would a computer specialist know about peekaboo?” the man asked, his eyes cynical.

Gail paused less than a beat. She suspected there was a reason for the cynicism, but she disliked the attitude. Something told her he wasn’t a man who worried about being liked. She met his gaze head-on, confident in her ability to care for the man’s child, and just as confident about her lack of feminine appeal. “I could write a dissertation on the subject of peekaboo. The wonderful thing about peekaboo is that it requires no special equipment and can be employed at any time, just about any place. But there are some requirements for the game.”

He arched a dark eyebrow. “And they are?”

“A sense of humor and a willingness to—” She broke off, her stomach a riot of butterflies at the intent way he stared at her. Gail felt heat rush through her bloodstream.

“Willingness to what?” he prompted.

She cleared her throat and prayed in vain that her cheeks weren’t turning fire-engine red with embarrassment. “A willingness for the adult involved to completely ditch his or her dignity,” she said, pretty sure she’d just lost hers.

His lips twitched slightly. “Is that so?” He glanced at her résumé. “Why isn’t ‘peekaboo specialist’ on here?”

Gail laughed in a combination of relief and amusement. “I knew I’d forgotten something.”

“Nicholas Barone,” he said, extending his hand and meeting her gaze.

She accepted his handshake. “Gail Fenton, but I imagine you already know that.”

“You imagine correctly. You’ve met Molly,” he said, glancing down at his daughter. “Bellisima,” he said to the child, then dropped a kiss on her forehead.

Molly stared up at him and her lower lip protruded in a pre-wail position.

Gail couldn’t blame the child. If Nicholas seemed larger than life to her, she could hardly imagine what a baby might think of him.

“Please join me in the living room,” he said to Gail. “I have a few questions.”

“Of course,” Gail said. “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Barone, Mrs. Peabody and Molly,” she said as the tyke began to fuss. Gail followed Nicholas into the living room.

“She hasn’t smiled for me yet,” he muttered, motioning Gail to sit across from him on the couch. He took the large wing chair.

“She’s in awe,” Gail said.

He shot her a look of doubt. “Awe?”

“Well, yes. To normal people, you’re quite tall, but to her, you’re huge.”

“Normal people,” he said, rubbing his chin.

“Average,” Gail corrected, thinking he was one of those men who couldn’t miss a day of shaving. “Something tells me you’re not familiar with the idea of being average,” she said, and bit her lip. “Sorry. That was way too personal for an interview.”

He nodded. “Yes, it was, but you’re right. Barones aren’t allowed to be average.”

She saw a world of experience in his blue eyes and knew without his saying that he had always pushed himself, that much had been required of him and that he had done whatever it took.

He glanced at the application again. “I still don’t understand why you would choose to be a nanny when you could work at any number of top companies.”

She bit back a groan. “I like to play peekaboo,” she said. “Computers don’t.”

He remained silent as if waiting for the real explanation.

“When I work with computers, I don’t feel as if I’m making an important contribution. But when I take care of a child, I feel as if I’m shaping the future. I love the feeling of connectedness I get from caring for a child.”

“Mrs. Peabody tells me both your parents are deceased,” he said.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, surprising her with the gentle note in his voice. “You have one brother?”

“Who has tried to micromanage my life.”

He shot her a questioning glance, amazing her with his ability to extract information with just an expression.

“After I attended community college in Iowa, he persuaded me to finish my education here in Boston.”

“How does he feel about you taking this position?”

“How he feels about it isn’t important. How you, Molly and I feel about it is important.”

He nodded. “Are you engaged or in a serious relationship?”

Gail paused. “That’s personal, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but pertinent. I’ve just gained custody of a daughter I didn’t even know existed until a couple of weeks ago. I don’t want to hire someone who can’t make a long-term commitment.”

“How long-term?”

“Seventeen years,” he deadpanned, then cracked a wry grin. “Just kidding. After a thirty-day trial, I’d like you to sign a one-year contract.”

“A year is no problem,” she said, an odd assortment of emotions rolling through her. Mrs. Peabody had briefed her about the way Nicholas had learned of Molly’s existence, but the story still floored her. “Your life must have been turned upside down.”

“I’ve had to reevaluate my lifestyle,” he said, the fire in his eyes belying his neutral tone. “Providing a stable environment for Molly is my top priority. Which is why I asked that personal question. Are you in a serious relationship that can’t withstand your absence for a limited time?”

Gail thought of her wide assortment of male friends and bit back a chuckle. Serious? To them, she was one of the guys. “I’m not engaged or serious about anyone at the moment. I have several male friends, because I play volleyball on one of the more successful teams in a Boston recreational league. I also play a little basketball.”

“Volleyball,” he repeated, as if trying to put together a composite of her as a nanny.

“I was always better at sports than the arts, but I do a mean ‘eensy weensy spider,’” she said, and grinned. “I bet you’ve never asked about ‘eensy weensy spider’ during an interview before.”

His lips twitched. “Can’t say that I have.” He looked at her silently for such a long time that she had to resist the urge to squirm. “If you become Molly’s nanny, I’ll require complete honesty.”

She saw a glimmer of the hard line he probably held at the office. He was a man who would demand and get what he wanted. “I couldn’t give you anything less.”

He nodded. “Good. This position will require the two of us to communicate regularly. I think it’s best if we dispense with formalities. You can call me Nicholas.”

Gail wanted this job, but she had an instinct about Nicholas Barone. She suspected he could charm a bear out of its den, but he also probably expected his employees to submit to his will without asking too many questions. As Molly cried in the background, Gail began to think this job might be more challenging than she’d originally thought. Although she would respect Nicholas’s wishes, she needed to know he would at least listen to her ideas. “You strike me as someone accustomed to having most things your way. If I feel strongly about something, I will want you to consider it even if you don’t initially like it.”

He gave her a long, assessing glance. “I’m at ease with letting the buck stop with me. I don’t believe in shirking my responsibilities. As much as I’d like to be, I’m not an expert on my daughter yet. I will be soon enough, but until then I’ll value your input.”

In that one moment her respect for him grew. His commitment to his daughter got under her skin.

“Any other concerns?” he asked.

Just that he was so good-looking she hoped she wouldn’t be caught drooling whenever he came around. She shook her head.

“Good. We’ve already checked your references. When can you start?”

“When do you need me?” she asked, feeling a combination of excitement and some unnamed apprehension.

The sound of Molly’s cries filled the air. He didn’t blink once. “Yesterday.”

Two nights later Nicholas sank onto the bed in one of the guest rooms. The master bedroom was being painted, so he was temporarily displaced. He hadn’t slept well since he’d brought Molly home. The shock of instant fatherhood and all its accompanying concerns had kept him awake into early morning. After checking on his soundly sleeping daughter tonight, though, he felt he could finally relax. Part of it was the gut feeling that Molly felt safe and secure in Gail Fenton’s hands.

If he couldn’t make Molly feel secure, if his presence sent his daughter into tears, then he was damn determined to find someone who could make her feel safe. Gail had a natural warmth that he knew would comfort Molly. It surprised the hell out of him, but even he felt that same warmth in Gail’s presence. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but she projected the attitude that perfection wasn’t required or expected. Nicholas had spent his life around people who expected perfection, or something damn close to it.

Through the walls, he heard the shower cut off and a feminine voice singing. The sound captured his attention. A committed bachelor whose lovers rarely stayed overnight, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard a woman singing in his house.

Curious, he moved closer to the wall. A children’s song, he concluded, catching a few of the words. “Little teapot…steamed up…tip me over, pour—”

The singing stopped abruptly and he heard a loud thump, followed by a muffled shriek. Wincing, Nicholas heard a low moan, then nothing.

He frowned, wondering if she was hurt. He pressed his ear against the wall. Still no sound. He squeezed the bridge of his nose. What should he do? What if she was lying on the floor with a concussion?

Swearing under his breath, he strode from his room to her door and knocked lightly so he wouldn’t wake Molly. “Gail,” he said. “Gail, are you okay?”

No sound. Nicholas turned the knob and entered the room, scanning the floor for a body. He moved toward the ensuite bath and caught a glance of Gail Fenton with a towel precariously slung over her as she rubbed her shin. “Ouch, ouch. Ouch,” she whispered.

Nicholas would be missing a Y chromosome if he didn’t notice her long shapely legs and the fact that the towel was one breath away from revealing one of her breasts. In other circumstances with a different woman, he would get that towel off her in a New York minute, but now he needed to make sure she wasn’t seriously injured. “Are you okay?”

Her gaze shot to his and her mouth rounded in a mixture of horror and surprise. She glanced down at her body and hastily rearranged the towel. “M-Mr. Barone.”

“Nicholas is fine,” he said.

She clutched the towel to her. “I’m okay. I just slipped when I got out of the shower.”

“It sounded painful and potentially life-threatening,” Nicholas said.

She cringed. “I fall hard. It’s one of my flaws. Overconfidence. I trust my balance a little too much.”

“Maybe you were distracted by singing the teapot song.”

Her face bloomed with color and she scooted into a sitting position. “I’ll be honest,” she said in a confiding tone. “I’m no Mary Poppins, so I’ve been practicing all the children’s songs I know.”

He shrugged. “Sounded good to me until you…”

“Went splat on the floor,” she finished with a pained expression.

“Are you sure you didn’t break anything?”

“Totally. It was very kind of you to check on me, but unnecessary. I’ll just have a few very colorful bruises.”

“You’re sure you’re okay,” he said, something about her expression causing him doubt.

“Very sure. You can leave. Please.”

“Let me help you up first,” he said, moving toward her.

“Oh, no,” she said, her eyes widening as she shook her head.

He put his hands on her arms and watched in fascination as her cheeks bloomed with vivid color again. She didn’t look nearly so plain when she blushed. In fact she reminded him of a creamy white rose tipped with coral. He wondered if she blushed all over and glanced at her pink shoulders and pink chest. He looked down her pink legs to her pink toes.

“Mr. Barone—”

“Nicholas,” he corrected.

“Nicholas, I won’t die from this fall, but I may die of embarrassment if you don’t leave.”

He pulled one of his hands back, amused by her frank admission. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who blushes from head to toe.”

Her mouth straightened into a firm line. “A gentleman wouldn’t bring that fact to my attention.”

He chuckled, thinking he was enjoying this exchange far more than he should. “I’m not a gentleman one hundred percent of the time,” he said, and pulled her to her feet. “Gentlemen can be boring.”

She rushed to adjust the towel around her and Nicholas caught a glimpse of the curve of her round derriere. The sight was so distracting he almost didn’t catch her frown. “I disagree,” she said. “A true gentleman understands the value of good manners and consideration.”

“A smart man uses those to his advantage, but makes his own rules.”

Gail sighed and walked around him, the towel offering more tantalizing glimpses of her rear end with each step she took. “You’re not going to change my opinion. And with me clinging to this towel, I’m reasonably sure I won’t be changing yours. So, thank you for your concern. I’d like to get to bed now. Good night.”

His gaze latching on to her derriere, Nicholas barely resisted the urge to say, You give new meaning to the word peekaboo.

Gail survived the night, even though she felt sick every time she thought about Nicholas Barone hearing her sing in the shower, then feeling compelled to pick her up off the floor and nearly catching her buck naked. Molly soon distracted her. Unfortunately one of Gail’s most effective calming tricks involved her own hair, which Molly liked to grasp and hang on to. It meant the baby was attached to her for most of her waking hours. Gail told herself it was a bonding period and it would pass.

At six o’clock on the dot, Nicholas walked through the front door. “It’s Daddy!” Gail said, trying to convey a feeling of happy excitement to Molly. Gail feared the baby and her hottie father were off to a rocky start. “It’s Daddy,” Gail said again, heading toward the foyer with Molly in her arms.

Nicholas spotted his daughter and approached cautiously. Gail felt Molly’s hand wind around a strand of her hair. A sure sign of tension. Molly popped her thumb in her mouth and stared at her father as if she couldn’t decide if he were a monster.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said in a low voice. “How was your day today? Did you have a good time with Gail?”

Molly wound her hand another turn around Gail’s hair and stared at her father.

“Say Da-da,” Gail prompted the child. Then she turned to Nicholas. “I think she’s focused on verbal development now. She’s making lots of sounds.”

“What is she doing to your hair?” Nicholas asked, his brow furrowing.

“I think it’s a security thing,” Gail said wryly. “Some kids use a blanket. Molly uses my hair.”

Nicholas moved closer. “It looks like she’s going to rip it out,” he said, reaching to loosen Molly’s grip.

Momentarily distracted by a whiff of his aftershave, Gail stared at the sensual curve of his mouth. She wondered how he kissed. Heat rolled through her. Instinct told her he was an incredible lover.

Not that she would ever find out. Not that she really wanted to find out, she told herself, feeling Molly stiffen. “It’s okay. You don’t need to—” She broke off when she felt Nicholas’s fingers graze the skin of her neck as he tried to pry Molly’s fingers loose.

Molly’s eyes widened in alarm. She let out an ear-rattling wail of protest.

Gail winced and shook her head. “Just let her have my hair. I don’t like it that much,” she said with a chuckle. “She can use it.”

Nicholas pulled back his hand with a frown. “She always seems to cry when I come around.”

Gail bit her lip. He was right. “Maybe it’s just the time of day.”

“Morning and night?” he asked skeptically.

“She probably just needs some time with you alone. Maybe you could start reading to her at night.”

If Gail didn’t know better, she would say she saw a sliver of terror flash through his eyes. That couldn’t be right, she thought. After all, Molly was his daughter. A big, powerful man like Nicholas Barone couldn’t possibly be terrified of his baby daughter. Could he?

“Maybe,” he said in a considering tone, his expression guarded. “Maybe another night. I have a commitment to attend a charity function tonight. My turn to be the official Barone-family representative.”

Still wailing, Molly clutched Gail’s hair tightly. “It’s okay,” Gail cooed, rubbing the baby’s back. “You’re just fine.” She glanced again at Nicholas, her curiosity aroused. “Do you mind being the official Barone representative?” she said.

He shrugged and his mouth tilted in a sexy grin. “Depends on the function and the woman.”

She nodded. “Ah,” she said, feeling a jumpy sensation at the sensual glint in his eyes. How would it feel to spend an evening receiving the undivided attention of a man like Nicholas Barone? Gail would no doubt spend the entire date stammering and blushing, unlike the confident, gorgeous women he was accustomed to. She wondered who it was tonight. “You must have a tough time choosing the ‘flavor of the day.’ I don’t remember meeting a woman who doesn’t love ice cream, so you must represent the perfect combination.”

“What would that be?” he asked. “Wealth and…”

She shook her head. “Actually I wasn’t thinking of wealth. I was thinking of ice cream and a favorite topping. Something hot,” she said impulsively, because if ever the word was an apt description for a man, it was now. “Hot fudge sauce.”

As Nicholas stared at her for a long moment, she felt a roar of embarrassment race through her. What had possessed her to say such a thing? Thinking it was one thing. Saying it was something totally different. She cringed, certain her cheeks matched the color of her hair. Was she destined to constantly embarrass herself in front of this man? “Could we just forget I said that?”

“Forget you just compared me to ice cream and hot fudge sauce?” he asked, his dark eyebrows arching.

“Uh, yeah,” she said hopefully.

He shook his head and chuckled. “No. I’m sure I’ll remember that for a long time.”

And Gail made the futile wish that she could fall through a crack in the perfectly sealed tile floor of the foyer so her five-foot-eight-inch frame would disappear.

Two

After the last two busy days, Gail should have been comatose. Instead, she stared wide-eyed at the eight-foot ceiling of her elegant bedroom. Molly, the precious screaming meemie, had finally fallen asleep an hour ago. Caring for an uneasy, clingy one-year-old was both rewarding and exhausting. On those rare occasions when Molly smiled, it was as if the sun came out from behind a cloud.

Gail felt as if she was making progress with her little charge, but she worried about Molly and Nicholas. She had tried without success to encourage Nicholas to spend time with his daughter. He made overtures, but when Molly began to cry, and she always did, he backed away. Gail worried about how to bring the two of them together. If Molly continued to cry and Nicholas continued to pull away, she feared they would never develop the warm, loving relationship they both could have.

The warm, loving relationship Gail would have had with her father if he had lived. The memory of her father’s death stirred a pang of longing to which Gail thought she’d become immune.

Abandoning her effort to sleep, she rose from the bed and pulled on her robe. She yawned, scooted her feet into her pink bunny slippers and headed for the kitchen for a cup of something hot without caffeine. As she passed Molly’s room, she noticed the door was slightly ajar.

Curious, she quietly pushed the door open and spotted Nicholas standing next to Molly’s crib. Dressed in a black wool suit that had taken him from early-morning meetings to another charity function this evening, he had loosened his tie and was totally focused on the sight of his sleeping daughter.

The grave tenderness on his face made Gail’s heart twist. “Gotcha,” she whispered.

For a moment she wondered if he’d heard her. But then he turned to meet her gaze and his mouth lifted in a slow half smile. “So you did.”

Gail felt the punch of attraction all over again, but refused to let the man’s sex appeal cloud her mind. “She’s not crying,” she said, moving closer to the crib.

“She doesn’t know I’m here,” Nicholas said dryly. “Otherwise, she’d be screaming her lungs out.”

“Babies cry to expend energy. It’s not personal,” she said, and hoped it was true.

“Uh-huh.” His deep voice was full of doubt as he returned his gaze to Molly.

“Well, it’s true. It’s not as if babies can play tennis or volleyball to work off their frustration.”

“And there’s no correlation to her crying every time I come around. It has absolutely nothing to do with my presence.”

Gail wanted to say it didn’t, but she feared her nose would grow like Pinocchio’s. “Well, it wouldn’t,” she insisted, “if you would spend more time with her when she’s awake.”

“Her little life’s been turned inside out lately. I don’t want to upset her more, so I come every night and watch her. Maybe she’ll get used to me through osmosis or something.”

The combination of his wry tenderness and strength struck at Gail’s heart. “Maybe you could sing to her.”

He shot her a dark look.

“Just seems like there should be a way to make some progress,” she said, wrinkling her brow as she searched for a solution. “Maybe you could leave something of yours in her crib. Something you wear next to your skin. Something with your scent.”

“My socks?” he said.

She chuckled. “No. The objective is to help her bond with you, not chase her away. Maybe your T-shirt,” she ventured.

He stood perfectly still for a long moment, then gave a short nod. “Okay,” he said, and shrugged out of his jacket and began to unbutton his shirt. He thrust his jacket at her. “Here. Hold this.”

Gail instinctively clutched his jacket and felt her jaw fall open in shock. “Uh, you, uh, don’t have to—” She broke off as he handed her his shirt and in one motion yanked off his T-shirt. Her gaze fastened on the breathtaking, thigh-melting view of his muscular bare chest. A dusting of dark hair skimmed down the center of his chest and abdomen and disappeared beneath the waistband of his black slacks. He carefully set his T-shirt beside Molly in the crib, his muscles rippling with the movement.

He turned back to face her. “Any other suggestions?”

None that wouldn’t send her into cardiac arrest, Gail thought. She cleared her throat. “You’ll get an opportunity to be alone with her when she’s awake tomorrow night.”

Alarm crossing his face, he did a double take. “Tomorrow night!” Molly stirred, and he lowered his voice, moving closer to Gail. “You’re not quitting already, are you?”

“Of course not,” she whispered. “I have tomorrow night off. I have a volleyball game.”

He frowned, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t know if this is a good idea. Maybe I should call a sitter.”

“It requires guts and tenacity. I thought you Barones cornered the market when it came to guts and tenacity.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “What do I do with her?”

Gail’s heart swelled with a combination of admiration and compassion. Nicholas Barone was an incredibly powerful man, but he was willing to go to the mat for the daughter he hadn’t even known existed just weeks ago. “Read to her. Pay attention to her. Women are the same at any age. They love attention. They love to be chased. They love to laugh,” she said, and noticed he was standing so close to her she could see the five-o’clock shadow on his jaw. She felt suddenly light-headed.

“Women are the same at any age,” he echoed, his curious gaze winding around her like a silken thread. “So what does Gail want? To be chased and to laugh?”

She had to be imagining the intensity in his gaze, because he sure as heck could not be looking at her the way a man looks at a woman he finds desirable. Dropping her gaze to clear her head, she stared at her feet and his. He wore Italian leather shoes. She wore pink bunny slippers. She backed away. “Gail wants a cup of herbal tea. I’ll let you get back to your secret quality time with your daughter. Don’t worry about tomorrow night. I’ll leave her favorite books out for you, and if that doesn’t work, you can always make up a story.”

He gave her a blank look. “Make up a story about what?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m sure you’re creative,” she said, and the naughty thought sliced through her mind that he was probably very creative in bed. Before her mouth decided to share that thought, she took another step backward. “Good night, Nicholas.”

He nodded. “Gail,” he said as she turned.

She stopped. “Yes?”

“Great slippers.”

Her cheeks heated at the sexy amusement in his voice. His voice was so sexy he could probably read the Wall Street Journal and a woman would beg him to bed her. Gail bit back a moan. She definitely needed to make sure she didn’t run into Nicholas late at night again. A woman needed all her faculties and fortitude to fight off that man’s impact.

The following night Gail played volleyball with her co-ed team. She’d been so immersed in her new nanny position that she had a tough time concentrating at first. Her longtime buddy and teammate, Jonathan, had teased her out of her fog. After the game and a quick shower at the gym, she joined her comrades for a celebratory round of beer at a local bar. Her mind kept wandering to Molly and Nicholas. Visions of Molly, red-faced and crying, and Nicholas, discouraged and exasperated, plagued her, so she left early.

When she entered through the heavy wooden front door, she listened for sounds of screaming. Instead, she heard Nicholas’s low baritone coming from the kitchen. Quietly walking down the hallway, she noticed his words were punctuated by pleasant gurgling noises from Molly. Pleasant? Gail silently mouthed the word wow and stood outside the kitchen.

“You like Baronessa strawberry gelato,” Nicholas said. “You have excellent taste. Would you like to hear how Baronessa Gelati was started?”

Molly gave an unintelligible babble, but once again, it was pleasant sounding.

“I knew you’d be interested. Your great-grandfather Marco came to America from Italy and he fell in love with a girl named Angelica who made ice-cream desserts. The two of them eloped on Valentine’s Day and they later opened a gelateria, which is an Italian ice-cream store. Can you say gelateria?”

Another unintelligible babble followed, and Gail smiled, charmed by Nicholas’s ridiculous question.

“That’s okay,” he said. “I’m sure my father will make sure you speak some Italian. But back to the story. Marco named the gelateria Baronessa because their last name—our last name—means baron in English. As his wife, she was the baronessa. The gelateria became very popular with locals and tourists. It was a huge success. Years passed, and my father, Carlo, who earned his MBA from Harvard, took the business national, and Baronessa Gelati can now be found in the gourmet section of grocery stores all over the world.” He paused. “Baronessa strawberry gelato can also be found all over you, little one. It looks like you’re going to need another bath, and something tells me that won’t be nearly as popular as strawberry gelato.”

Gail poked her head through the doorway. “Looks like you two have been having a party.”

Nicholas heard Molly shriek with joy and felt a rush of relief at the sight of Gail. Molly had been fretful for a good part of the evening. Serving her gelato had been an act of inspiration and desperation.

Gail smiled, and he felt an odd trickle of warmth in his gut. “I’m impressed,” she said. “It would have taken me a while to come up with ice cream.”

“But you probably would have managed to keep it neater,” he said, nodding his head at the pink mess that was Molly.

“No,” Gail said, grabbing a couple of paper towels and moving toward Molly’s high chair. “I just would have tried to get her cleaned up before you saw her so you would think I’d managed to feed her without her getting it all over herself.”

“So the just-fed clean one-year-old is a myth?” he asked.

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.

Nicholas looked at her for such a long moment that she nearly turned around and went back upstairs. “Chocolate,” he finally said. “You look good in chocolate.”

And Gail felt almost pretty. After a short drive in Nicholas’s luxury sports car, they arrived at the mayor’s home. A valet parked the car and a house-keeper in a black uniform took their coats. One glance into Mayor Forwood’s posh living room told Gail she had not dressed appropriately. Nearly every woman at the gathering wore the proverbial little black dress.

Gail didn’t even own one. Dress at her former job had been casual, and she sure as heck didn’t need a black dress on the volleyball court. Brushing aside her discomfort, she tried to project a confidence she didn’t feel.

A woman wearing a black dress and pearls approached Nicholas and extended her hand. “Nicholas, we’re so delighted you’ve come. Bill always says a party’s not a party if the Barones aren’t represented. And your date,” she said, looking at Gail. “I thought Corinne was joining us.”

“Corinne is sick and Gail was kind enough to join me at the last minute,” Nicholas smoothly interjected. “Gail Fenton, this is Jo-Ann Forwood.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Your home is lovely,” Gail said.

“Thank you. Are you a colleague of Nicholas’s?” Jo-Ann asked, her gaze curious.

“Oh, I just started—”

“Gail is a close family friend,” Nicholas interjected again. “Did I hear you say you were thirsty?” he asked Gail.

Uh, no, she thought, wondering why he didn’t want Jo-Ann to know she was his daughter’s nanny.

“We must get you something to drink,” Jo-Ann said. “What would you like?”

Gail drew a blank. She’d been surrounded by milk, baby food and apple juice. She felt Nicholas’s gaze on her.

“White wine,” he said.

“Beer,” Gail said at the same time.

Jo-Ann’s eyes widened. “Beer,” she echoed, then recovered her poise. “And what may we get for you, Nicholas?”

“Scotch, neat,” he said.

“Very good. Excuse me while I tell the bartender,” she said, and glided away.

Gail immediately turned to Nicholas. “Why didn’t you want to tell her I was your daughter’s nanny?”

“Because it’s none of her business,” he said, irritation bleeding into his tone.

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re embarrassed that you’re here with a nanny?”

His jaw tightened and anger flashed in his eyes. “I can do what I damn well—” He took a deep breath. “Later,” he muttered. “The mayor’s coming.”

Over the next thirty minutes Gail met six people. They all asked about Corinne, and Gail quickly grew weary of the dubious expressions on their faces as they looked at her. She was clearly a fish out of water. To be brutally honest, she didn’t want to be in the water, except that for some strange reason she’d wanted to please Nicholas. The party wore on and Gail became separated from Nicholas. One beautiful woman after another vied for his attention.

Mentally waving the white flag, Gail nursed another beer and wandered into a connecting room. An elderly woman sat next to roaring fire. “Nice fire,” Gail said, then politely introduced herself.

The woman smiled. “I’m Delores Forwood. Bill’s my son.”

“You must be very proud of him.”

“Depends on the day,” Delores replied. “He’s a political blowhard who’s going to get too big for his britches if he’s not careful.” Her tone was feisty.

Gail’s lips twitched at Delores’s bluntness. “Something tells me you try to keep him in line.”

“I try, and sometimes I do, since the key to his inheritance is me. That beer looks good,” she said, gazing longingly at the tall glass Gail held.

“Would you like me to get one for you?”

“Yes, but just make sure Jo-Ann doesn’t see you. She’ll have a conniption fit. Who are you here with?”

“Nicholas Barone,” Gail said, and paused a second. “His date is sick and he needed a quick replacement. I’m his daughter’s nanny.”

“Nicholas Barone,” the woman murmured. “He’s a gorgeous man. Smart, too,” she said. “Probably bored as hell. You’re not his usual type.”

“I got that impression,” Gail said wryly.

“Maybe his taste is improving,” the old woman said slyly.

Gail laughed. “Oh, I’m glad I found you. Let me get your beer,” she said, and brought a tall, cold glass to the mayor’s mother.

Gail enjoyed her conversation with the woman so much that thirty minutes passed before a shadow fell over her.

“I couldn’t find you,” Nicholas said as he stepped next to her.

Gail glanced at the clock on the mantel. “I guess I lost track of the time. Have you met Delores Forwood?”

“I have,” he said, and smiled at the woman. “I should have known Gail would find the most interesting person at the party to talk with.”

Delores smiled with pleasure. “You Italians are full of flattery. You’re worse than the Irish.”

“I won’t take that as an insult since I know your husband was Irish.”

“So he was. I enjoyed my visit with your daughter’s nanny. If it means I get to chat with Gail, I hope all your future dates get sick.”

Nicholas stared at Delores in surprise for a beat, then roared with laughter. “You’re a breath of fresh air.”

“Especially after spending an hour in that room. You need a backhoe to get through all that brown stuff, if you know what I mean.”

Nicholas chuckled again. “It’s a pleasure seeing you again, Delores, but we need to be going.”

Delores patted Gail’s hand. “Visit again. Anytime.”

“Thank you. I will,” Gail said. “Thanks for the chat.”

“Thank you for the company. Good night, you two.”

Nicholas led Gail away from the party after they thanked the host and hostess. As soon as he put the car in gear, he glanced at her. “You disappeared.”

“Not really,” she said. “You were busy.”

He frowned. “I’m not accustomed to having to go searching for my date.”

“Oh, well, I wasn’t really a date.”

He slowed at a stoplight and turned to look at her. “Then what were you?”

“Your daughter’s nanny operating as a last-minute substitute whom you didn’t have to entertain for an engagement you didn’t want to attend,” she said, and told her ego not to feel pinched. It was the truth and she should be totally okay with it.

“But I’m still responsible for you having an enjoyable time,” he said.

“Not really,” she said. “That’s gentlemanly of you, but not necessary in this situation. I think you’re used to women pretty much planting themselves by your side. It’s probably a territorial thing. But I don’t feel that way about you.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “You don’t feel that way about me.”

“Of course not,” she insisted. “And if I did, I’d be in big trouble because there was a bunch of beautiful women elbowing their way next to you.”

“I had thought that having you with me would prevent that,” he said.

Gail gaped at him. He was serious. Amusement bubbled up from her throat and she laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nicholas, if you were looking for a woman to intimidate all your wannabe girlfriends, you picked the wrong girl. I don’t look the role. I didn’t even have on the right uniform.” She nodded. “Light turned green.”

He returned his focus to the road and moved forward. “Right uniform?” he echoed.

“Little black dress. I don’t own one. I’m a great nanny, a great friend. But I’m no female barracuda and I never will be.”

“I guess you’re not,” he said, but something in his expression indicated that wasn’t bad. “How did you find Delores Forwood? They usually try to hide her.”

“She was in the next room. I’ve learned the secret to surviving parties, you know.”

“What’s that?”

“The nicest and most interesting people at a party are often in the corners, not in the middle.”

“I was in the middle,” Nicholas said. “Are you saying I’m boring?”

“You were there under duress,” she said.

“I was,” he agreed. “The next time you go to a party, I’m following you into the corner.”

His statement hung in her brain like a veiled but delicious sensual threat. “Okay,” she muttered. “But the corner’s gonna get awfully crowded when all your wannabe dates follow you there.” Nicholas just chuckled, but Gail knew as sure as her hair was red that she wouldn’t be attending any more parties with him.

The following morning Gail perused the morning paper while Molly picked up her Cheerios one by one and ate them. Molly seemed to delight in finger food and relished the opportunity to exert her independence.

Gail read the front page, then the sports section, then glanced at the style section. A photograph on the front page caught her attention. A dozen local women were featured in photos for their stylish clothing. It just so happened that Nicholas was shown escorting one of them.

Gail couldn’t help staring at the photograph. First she looked at Nicholas. What woman wouldn’t? He was one of those men who would look just as good naked as he did in a suit. And the woman beside him in the photo was so beautiful she almost didn’t look real. Gail studied the woman’s impeccable clothing from head to toe, all the while entirely too aware of her own sweat suit and tennis shoes.

Nicholas’s housekeeper, a middle-aged woman from Romania named Ana, came up behind Gail. “One of Mr. Barone’s ladies?”

Feeling her stomach give an involuntary twist, Gail nodded. The photograph underscored the differences between her and the other women in Nicholas’s life. The stark contrast shouldn’t bother her. She’d always been fairly content with herself, never spending much time pining to be different. So why was she bothered now? “She’s beautiful. Everything about her looks so perfect. I wonder how she does it.”

“They’re all beautiful,” Ana said. “But Mr. Barone, he is quite handsome. The newspaper takes his picture all the time. He looks so good. But the women, he doesn’t let them into his heart.”

“That’s what he told me,” Gail said.

Ana’s dark eyebrows flew upward. “He told you that?”

Gail shrugged. “Men tell me things they wouldn’t normally share with a woman. They don’t see me as a potential romantic partner. I’m like one of the guys,” she said, and though she hadn’t minded the situation before, the notion that no man viewed her in a romantic way was starting to grate on her. Silly, she told herself. Last night had just been a little tough on the ego. “I can’t disagree with you about Mr. Barone, though. He’s a hottie. I’m beginning to think I should get hazard pay working for him.”

“Hazard pay?” Ana said.

“Sure. He’s so hot he’s hazardous to a woman’s concentration.”

Ana laughed and swiped at her. “You are joking. You have good sense of humor.”

Gail wasn’t joking. She had the uncomfortable feeling that any woman in Nicholas’s proximity could fall for him, and based on his attitude toward romantic love, that would be a disaster. She opened her mouth to protest, but a Cheerio hit her on the cheek.

She glanced up at Molly just before another barely missed her nose. “You little bugger,” she said, rising to clean up the toddler. “I’ve told you not to throw food. Soon enough, you’ll be eating Italian food, and people don’t like to dodge meatballs even from cutiepies like you.”

Molly lifted her hand to toss another Cheerio, but Gail stopped her. “No, no,” she said, taking the Cheerio from her tight clasp. “Breakfast is over. If you’re throwing food, then you’re definitely not hungry.”

She quickly wiped off Molly’s hands and face, then lifted her from the high chair. Molly immediately wrapped her hand around a strand of Gail’s hair.

“It’s so sweet the way the baby reaches for your hair,” Ana said, and smiled.

“Yes.” Gail looked down into Molly’s trusting wide eyes. “This is one person who definitely doesn’t care if I wear designer clothes or sweats.” Molly adored her, but, Gail reminded herself, she would do well to remember that Nicholas would never fall for any woman, least of all her.

That not-good-enough feeling followed Gail around for the next two days. By game time on Thursday night, she was ready to take out her frustration on the volleyball court. She played hard, too hard, and she pulled a muscle in her shoulder in the last three minutes of the game.

Her team won, and her teammates were jazzed with her performance. They wanted to take her to their favorite bar to celebrate, but Gail’s shoulder hurt too much to hang around. She drove home and quietly crept in the front door, then tiptoed down the hall. All she wanted was the peace and quiet of her room.

“How was the game?” an all-too familiar masculine voice asked from behind her in a tone that wreaked havoc with her heart.

Gail tensed. She didn’t turn. She didn’t want to look at him. The man had filled too many of her thoughts lately. “Great. We creamed them. Only problem is I creamed my shoulder in the process,” she said, squeezing her right shoulder.

He walked to her side. “How bad is it?”

“I won’t die from it.”

“You’ll just feel like it,” he said with a gentle smile of commiseration. “Go get in the Jacuzzi in the mini-gym downstairs. It’ll work wonders.”

She couldn’t deny that a few minutes in a hot tub sounded inviting. “Then I’ll go straight to bed,” she said, finally glancing at him. “Thanks.”

Gail quickly climbed the stairs, stripped and pulled on a one-piece bathing suit. Self-conscious about running into Nicholas, she pulled on a sweat suit, too. She took the two flights down to the mini-gym to find the light already turned on and the hot tub bubbling in invitation.

Breathing a sigh of relief that Nicholas was nowhere in sight, she pulled off the sweat suit and stepped into the tub. She sank into the hot water and moaned as her muscles immediately began to unknot. She closed her eyes and relaxed.

“Is it your right shoulder,” Nicholas said from behind her, startling her so that she jerked upright. She felt his hand on her bare skin. “You need to relax.”

“It would help if you wouldn’t sneak up behind me.”

“I didn’t sneak. You were almost asleep.” He gently massaged her shoulder. “Relax.”

While you’re touching me? she thought. Fat chance. She closed her eyes and exhaled. As long as he stayed out of the hot tub, everything would be fine. She allowed herself to relax while his fingers soothed her knotted muscles.

She felt him shift his stance and swear under his breath. “This is too difficult from this position. I’m coming in.”

Uh-oh.

Four

“No! That’s really not necessary. You’ve done enough,” Gail said, standing up in the tub. “More than enough.”

“What is with you?” Nicholas asked, looking at her as if she had a loose screw. He stepped into the swirling water. “Why are you panicking? Do you have some kind of phobia about hot tubs or something?”

“No, but—” She broke off, flustered, feeling color rise to her cheeks. She tried to avoid looking at his naked chest, but wasn’t succeeding. “Don’t you think it’s…well, inappropriate for us to be in the hot tub together?”

“Why?” he asked with a blank expression on his face. “We’re not naked.” He shrugged. “Although I admit I usually don’t wear anything when I get in the hot tub.”

Gail closed her eyes and swallowed a moan. “That’s more than I needed to know.”

“Just sit down.”

Gail sighed and sank back down in the water. “Why are you doing this?”

“I owe you after that awful cocktail party,” he said, returning his hands to her shoulder. “Waste of a free evening.”

“It was pretty bad,” she conceded. “Except I enjoyed meeting Delores.”

“Hmm,” he said, continuing to massage her. “So you’re the POM?”

“What’s a POM?”

“Player of the moment.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling at the acronym. “I’ll have to tell that one to Jonathan. He’ll love it.”

“Was he there tonight?”

“He’s always there. He’s the team captain.”

“And he wants to be more than friends with you,” Nicholas said.

Gail laughed. “That’s a good one. You’re wrong, you know. Jonathan and I have been friends forever. Well, at least through college.”

“Trust me. I know what I’m talking about. I saw the way he looks at you,” Nicholas said.

Gail paused at his tone. He wasn’t joking. She opened her eyes and turned around to look at him. “How does he look at me?”

“Like he wants to get you in his bed,” Nicholas said, his voice low, his eyes full of secrets.

Gail’s stomach turned a somersault at the idea of Nicholas wanting her in his bed. She sucked in a shocked breath. Where had that thought come from? She shook her head. “I haven’t seen that from him at all.”

“Maybe because you’re not looking for it,” he said, lifting a wayward strand of hair from her cheek.

“Or maybe it just doesn’t seem likely to me. I’m not—”

“Don’t say you’re not pretty. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Nicholas said.

Gail rolled her eyes. “Okay. I’m not sexy.”

His gaze took a slow trip over her face, hovered on her lips so long they burned, then slid down to the tops of her breasts and lower. Gail felt her nipples grow taut and sank lower into the water.

His gaze returned to hers. “That’s a matter of opinion.”

Her heart hammered against her rib cage. She felt as if she were going to dissolve into the bubbling water. She tried to gulp a deep, mind-clearing breath, but only managed a shallow one. The sexual intensity in his eyes scrambled her mental circuits, and of its own volition, her body leaned toward his. She instinctively lifted her mouth.

He lowered his.

She sucked in another quick breath. She was going to kiss him. He was going to—

No! Some wayward part of her rational mind kicked in. This was craziness. She forced herself to back away. “You are very good,” she said, wishing her voice didn’t sound so husky.

“What does that mean?”

“I mean I’m starting to understand why women fall at your feet.”

“I’d argue that they fall at my feet, but I’d love to hear why you think they do.”

“You seduce without trying. It’s in your eyes and in your voice. You just ooze it out of your pores. A woman would mistake that and think you meant something personal.” She stiffened her backbone even though she felt like melted butter. “But not me.”

“Why not you?”

She rose to her feet. “Because it would be the biggest mistake a woman could make to believe you want only her. I may be inexperienced, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

He rose slowly in front of her. “So what you’re saying is that you’re totally immune.” A dark challenge glinted in his eyes.

She had the sinking sensation she’d woken a sleeping lion. “I didn’t say I was immune. I just said—”

“So if I kissed you—” he moved closer “—it wouldn’t affect you.”

Alarm shot through her. “I didn’t say that, either. I just said—”

“Let’s see,” he cut in, and lowered his mouth to hers.

Gail froze in shock, her eyes wide-open, her vision blurred by his closeness. She tried to open her mouth to speak, but he used the movement as an invitation to deepen the kiss.

“Your lips are so soft,” he muttered against her mouth, causing a delicious vibration. He rubbed his mouth from side to side against hers in a sensual motion, and she felt his warm hand gently press the small of her back. Everything about him said “Come a little closer, I’ll make you feel good.”

Just as she thought she might gather her wits, he drew even closer. His chest brushed her breasts and he dipped his tongue past her lips.

Her heart pounding, Gail was caught between a decadent urge and good sense. When he curled one of his hands behind the nape of her neck, the gentle gesture slid past her defenses. He kissed her with a combination of controlled desire and curiosity. She couldn’t help wondering what would happen when he took the leash off his desire. The dark energy of passion underneath his caress sent a rush of heat through her.

This was a man who knew how to give and receive pleasure. A man with no hang-ups, no inhibitions. He exuded confidence in his sexuality.

Gail opened her mouth and, following an unbidden instinct, curled her tongue around his and sucked it deeper into her mouth.

Giving a low murmur of approval, he drew her body flush with his, and she immediately felt his arousal through his wet trunks. He began to devour her mouth with his. Something inside her demanded that she respond, stroke for stroke, caress for caress. His heat suffused her, and when he slid his hand to her bottom to guide her against him intimately, her knees grew weak. He wanted her, and the blatant signs from his body made her head spin.

He skimmed his hand up to her breast and rubbed her stiff nipple with his thumb. “Damn, I wish you didn’t have anything on. I want to put my mouth all over you.”

The hot, illicit image of his mouth on her nipple raced through her mind, causing a ricochet of need.

He took her hand and guided it down his belly to the waist of his bathing suit. He stopped abruptly and swore, tearing his mouth from hers. His eyes burned like fire as he stared down at her, his breath harsh. He didn’t say it, but she could read his words on his face. What in hell am I doing?

Embarrassment and need tugging her in opposite directions, she stepped back, trying to catch her breath. She bit her lip and watched his gaze drop to her lips and linger. His gaze sent another punch of desire through her. Ripping her gaze from his, she looked down. “This wasn’t a good idea.”

“I know,” he said.

The suggestion of desire in his voice did little to appease her ego. Some insane part of her had wanted him to disagree. “I’m not your type.”

“I know.”

Gail scowled. He could have at least paused before he’d agreed with her. She mentally slapped herself. Was she losing her mind? She glanced at him with as stern an expression as she could manage. “I’m your daughter’s nanny. I’m sure I don’t have one-tenth of your sexual experience. It’s not fair for you to play with me. It’s like bringing an AK-47 to a fight with someone who has a water pistol.”

His gaze slid over her like hot liquid. “I think you underestimate your appeal.”

She felt the slow drag of seduction pull at her again and fought it. “Well, I’m not underestimating yours. Pick on someone your own size,” she said, and wrinkled her brow because it didn’t make sense. She waggled her finger at him. “Pick on someone who has the same experience level. Pick on someone whose breath you don’t take away,” she said, and turned from him, marching as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels.

Gail awoke after a restless night the following day. After the hot-tub incident her mind might have tried to bring her libido under control, but her body had liked the way Nicholas had touched and caressed. Her body had ached for more all night.

Her body was just going to have to get over it, she told herself ruthlessly as she sipped her morning coffee while Molly threw cereal at her. Just as Gail was putting aside the newspaper, she saw another photograph of Nicholas with a beautiful woman by his side.

She bared her teeth at the photo, then rolled her eyes at herself and turned her attention to Molly. “We’re going to see Daddy today,” she said as she cleaned up the baby. Nicholas had asked Gail to bring Molly to the office sometime this week.

Molly bounced up and down in her high chair as if she understood Gail. “We’re going to dress you up and take you to Daddy’s office, so everyone can see you. I want to see lots of smiles,” she said, tickling Molly’s neck and causing her to giggle.

Gail dressed Molly in a cute red velvet dress with white tights and a matching red velvet hat. Molly fussed with the hat until Gail successfully distracted the toddler with one of her favorite toys. Gail quickly pulled on a brown jumper and matching boots, and scooped part of her hair away from her face with two barrettes.

With Molly safely tucked into her car seat, Gail made the short drive to the five-story glass-and-chrome building that housed Baronessa’s executive headquarters. She parked in the spot Nicholas had arranged for her and carried Molly through the lobby, pointing out pictures to the baby and reading a couple of the small plaques explaining the history of the company and the awards the gelato had won over the years. She allowed Molly to push the elevator button to the top floor and once there, walked toward Nicholas’s office. Molly was immediately greeted with smiles.

“She looks just like Mr. Barone,” Gail heard one woman say as she walked past.

“When she gets older, I bet she’ll attract the opposite sex with the same ease as her dad,” another murmured.

Gail caught sight of Nicholas flanked by two stylishly dressed women. She shook off concerns about her brown jumper. She was dressed appropriately, she told herself. She was a nanny, not a runway model. Nicholas glanced up, and Gail’s heart dipped. He looked at Molly and smiled.

Molly began to kick and Gail coached the baby in a whisper. “Da-da.”

“Da-da-da-da-da-da,” Molly called.

“I wondered when you two would get here,” Nicholas said. “Don’t you look gorgeous,” he said, chucking Molly’s chin.

His daughter coyly ducked, and it occurred to Gail that Nicholas’s ability to charm was beginning to extend to Molly.

“Oh, she’s just beautiful,” one of the women beside Nicholas cooed. “May I hold her for a moment?”

Nicholas hesitated, glancing at Molly’s fingers gripping Gail’s hair. “Maybe in a little bit, Jen. There are a lot of unfamiliar faces, so we probably need to give her a chance to get comfortable. Jen, this is Gail Fenton. She’s the miracle nanny.”

Jen looked at Gail as if trying to imagine how she could possibly work miracles. Gail resisted the urge to feel inadequate and extended her hand, instead. “It’s nice to meet you, Jen,” she said.

After that, Nicholas held his hands out for Molly and to Gail’s relief, his daughter went to him with no fussing. She noticed that every now and then Molly looked back to make sure Gail was still close by. Nicholas introduced several people, including his brother, Joseph Barone, CFO of Baronessa.

Gail couldn’t help noticing the stark difference in personality between Nicholas and Joseph. Nicholas’s eyes were alight with humor and sharp wit, while Joseph appeared rather serious and formal. She sensed a deep sadness in him and thought she might ask Nicholas about it later.

A lovely, tall, slender woman with long, curly light-brown hair walked into the public area of the executive suite, and the crowd immediately parted for her. Her violet eyes sparkled like firecrackers, but she emanated a cool, sophisticated aura. Her expression said “Don’t underestimate me.”

“I heard a rumor that my niece is here. I know you’ve been keeping her close to home, Nicholas, so she’s not getting away until I get a good look at her.” She turned to Molly. “Bellisima. Little one, you are going to break hearts and drive my arrogant brother crazy.” She looked at Nicholas and shot him a wide, wicked smile. “You are so in trouble with this one. With all the hearts you’ve broken, it’s time for you to get a little of your own back.”

“Thank you for your words of comfort and support,” Nicholas said dryly. “This is my little sister, Gina. She’s in charge of PR. Gina, this is Gail.”

She nodded. “The wonder nanny,” Gina said, and extended her hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you. Molly cried so much in the beginning that my mother was afraid you would quit. So was Nick,” she murmured.

“Really?” Gail said, surprised. “It was an adjustment period.”

“Yes, but most adjustment periods don’t require a truckload of headache medication.”

Gail smiled, liking the woman immediately. “I didn’t really need a truckload,” she said. “Maybe a crate. But look at her now.”

Molly extended her arms to Gail.

“Mr. Barone, you have an international conference call on line one,” his secretary said. “Shall I postpone it?”

Nicholas shook his head, passing Molly to Gail. “No, I should take it. Can you wait a few more minutes?” he asked Gail.

She nodded. “I brought treats in case we needed to wait.”

“Good planning,” he said, his gaze locking with hers as an electric understanding hummed between them.

Gail’s heart bumped. It was amazing how one look from that man could affect a woman. Any woman, she reminded herself. In this case, she was not unique.

“They can come down to my office while they wait,” Gina offered.

“Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I finish the call,” he said, and headed for his office.

Gina led Gail to her office on the fourth floor. “I’d love to hold her,” she said as she ushered them inside and closed the door, “but Nicholas told me Molly’s a little tense around new people.”

“She is,” Gail agreed. “I would offer for you to give her a cookie, but she’s a messy eater, and I’m afraid you might end up with wet cookie on your dress.”

Gina motioned for Gail to sit next to her desk, then sat down and wiggled her fingers. “I’ll risk the mess. I don’t have any appointments today. What’s dry cleaning for, anyway? Right?”

Gail pulled the treat from her bag and handed it to Gina. “Aunt Gina wants to give you a cookie,” she said in Molly’s ear. She moved Molly to Gina’s lap and gingerly disentangled the baby’s fingers from her hair.

When Molly happily nibbled on the cookie, Gail exhaled a sigh of relief.

“You really have worked wonders,” Gina said, stroking Molly’s cheek. “Both Nick and Mom told me she cried all the time when Nick first brought her home. He also told me you used to work for a computer company.”

“Molly’s a lot more fun,” Gail said. “Although I’m starting to think I may need to adjust my image during my off-hours. Maybe cut my hair or buy some new clothes. I didn’t think about it much before now, but—” Gail stopped and shrugged, finding it difficult to explain her feelings to someone when she didn’t understand them herself. Before, it had always been okay to be every guy’s buddy. Before what? Before Nicholas, her conscience whispered. She frowned.

“I’m sure Molly and Nicholas are fine with your image,” Gina said.

Her image as a nanny, Gail added, and felt a knot of distress. She shouldn’t be concerned about Nicholas’s opinion of her image. Heaven knows, she’d never be in his league. Even so, she didn’t like the idea of being perceived as a sexless nanny by the rest of the male population.

“If you’d really like a change, I can recommend a great hairstylist,” Gina said, pulling a business card from her top drawer. “Henri’s the best. Tell him I sent you.”

Gail took the card. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

“So how do you like working for my brother?”

“He’s very smart and knows exactly what he wants. I admire how quickly he’s taken on his responsibilities for Molly. Not every man would.”

“True, but Nick is the oldest sibling and has always been expected to perform at a higher level than most mere mortals. He’s protective of all of us.” She rolled her eyes, but her expression couldn’t hide a deep fondness. “I have to fight some of the baby-sister routine on a regular basis, both in the boardroom and at home.”

“Looks like you’re holding your own,” Gail said, surprised at the connection she felt with Nicholas’s sister.

A sharp rap sounded and the door whisked open. “How are my girls?” Nicholas asked.

Gail’s heart tripped. What would it be like to be Nicholas’s girl? She immediately felt foolish for her reaction. When would she learn? Nicholas was a player. She was not, and she didn’t really want to be.

With a thank-you to his sister, Nicholas ushered Gail and Molly to the elevator. He joined them on the ride down and pulled Gail to a quiet corner in the lobby. “Listen,” he said, “I need to apologize.”

Her chest tightened with a weird knot of dread. “Apologize for what?”

“For the way I acted last night.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what got into me. Maybe it was insanity brought on by lack of sleep.”

Gail felt the knot in her chest tighten painfully. “You’re saying you kissed me because you were insane and sleepy.” She tried to remember when she’d felt more insulted.

“I know it’s lame,” he confessed. “But I can’t come up with any reasonable explanation for my behavior.”

Such as you were at least remotely attracted to me, she thought. She felt a slow sizzle of anger burn through her blood.

“I need to apologize to you,” he went on. “You are very important to Molly and me, and I don’t want to mess that up. Molly is my primary concern and I don’t want to jeopardize her care.”

Gail nodded slowly, feeling her temperature rise. “You’re right.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you understand.”

“I understand completely. I have the same problem. I can’t come up with one logical reason why I kissed you last night. I’ve never gone for the arrogant, playboy type. Never,” she said with emphasis.

He blinked. “You haven’t?”

His surprised expression soothed her battered ego. “I sure haven’t. I totally agree with you. Last night was a crazy aberration. You’re not my type at all,” she said, and planned to mentally repeat those statements until she washed all erotic, seductive images of Nicholas Barone from her mind.

Five

His daughter’s nanny had a date.

The prospect irritated the hell out of Nicholas, but he kept his grumpiness to himself. During the past few days, he’d watched Gail undergo a transformation before his very eyes. Someone had cut her hair in a sexy, layered style that celebrated her curls, instead of trying to tame them. Yesterday he could have sworn that when she came home, she was wearing makeup.

Nicholas shouldn’t care. As long as she took good care of Molly, then it was none of his business what Gail did during her off-hours. He was just concerned about her. With seven younger siblings and four of them sisters, he came by his highly developed protectiveness honestly. He felt the same kind of protectiveness for Gail that he felt for his sisters, he told himself as he reread a paragraph in an article on the future of the economy from the latest edition of the Wall Street Journal.

Molly had gone to sleep early and Nicholas was settled in for a much-needed peaceful evening in front of the fire in the den.

He heard the click of high heels on the staircase. Gail. Curiosity burning him up inside, he craned his neck for a peek at her, but he couldn’t see. He casually repositioned himself in another chair just inside the den and waited until she moved closer.

When he saw her, his eyes nearly fell out of his head. The Wall Street Journal slipped from his fingers.

What had the woman done to herself? Her wild hair fell in sexy tendrils around her face, and she had on enough makeup for three women. Still, the eyeliner emphasized her eyes in a sultry way. She wore a purple dress that faithfully clung to every curve and stopped several inches above her knees, revealing her shapely legs. Her red lips were pursed in a moue of unhappiness as she glanced down at the high heels with an expression of complete exasperation.

“Might as well be walking on a pair of stilts,” she muttered, then glanced up and abruptly met Nicholas’s gaze. He felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. A wave of self-consciousness crossed her face, then she lifted her chin as if to fight it off. “How do you like my new look?”

Nicholas blinked and stood, shoving his hands into his pockets. The sight of her mouth accented with red lipstick brought his forbidden visual to the forefront of his mind. He cleared his throat. “It’s different. You look very different.”

Her face fell. “You don’t like it,” she said.

“I didn’t say that,” he said quickly. “I’m still just taking it all in. Who cut your hair?”

“Henri. Gina recommended him.”

I should have known, he thought, resisting the urge to grind his teeth.

“He was just as good as she said he was. He recommended a complete makeover, hair, makeup, clothes. I haven’t quite perfected the eye-makeup techniques yet.”

“That probably takes practice,” Nicholas said in the most neutral tone he could muster.

“But Henri also recommended this dress. I had nothing like it in my wardrobe. What do you think?”

“It fits,” he said. “It fits like a glove. And the color is good on you.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “I love my job as nanny, but it just recently occurred to me that guys perceive me as, well, asexual partly because of my job. I’m already everyone’s favorite buddy, so I thought I might need to counter the nanny image.

“Henri also recommended a magazine called Goddess,” she continued. “It sounds kinda silly, but the idea is to unleash your inner goddess, so I’m trying some of the suggestions from the magazine.”

He nodded, but he had no earthly idea what she was talking about.

“But some of the suggestions,” she said, shaking her head, “I just can’t see myself doing.”

“Like what?”

She shot him a doubtful look. “Are you sure you’re interested?”

“Trust me. This is a helluva lot more interesting than the article I was just reading about the economy.”

“Okay, I can get used to wearing thong underwear and learn how to walk in heels even though it may kill me, but one of the articles featured suggested pickup lines for women to use with men. I can’t imagine myself saying some of them.”

Nicholas felt his neck tighten with an inexplicable tension. “Give me an example.”

“I can imagine going panty-less for one evening, but I just can’t imagine going up to some guy I don’t know very well and saying, ‘Oops, I forgot my panties.’ Is it just me or is that a little over the top?”

Nicholas couldn’t prevent his gaze from skimming down over her hips. No panty lines. Was she naked beneath that man-eater dress? His neck tightened again. “I guess it depends on what kind of man you’re trying to attract.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean some men prefer understated, natural beauty. Some men are attracted to modesty,” he said.

“Really?” she said, tilting her head to one side as if considering the notion. She bit her plump lip, then shook her head. “But don’t you think most men like that are in their sixties or seventies?”

Nicholas’s head began to throb. “Not necessarily.”

“Well, think about it. If a woman came up to you and said, ‘Oops I forgot my panties,’ you must admit you wouldn’t forget her, would you? I’ve been forgotten and passed over by men my entire life. I think it’s time that stopped. Do you think if I stand in front of the mirror and practice, I might eventually be able to say it?”

“Say what?”

“Oops, I forgot my panties,” she said, getting her coat from the closet.

God, I hope not, he thought. He was saved from responding by the ringing doorbell. A dozen warnings and cautionary statements raced through his head as she put her hand on the doorknob. Wear your coat the entire time. Slap him if he touches you. Keep your legs crossed. He swallowed them all except one. “Be careful.”

She glanced back at him and met his gaze for a long moment. “I’ve been careful since the day I was born. A goddess is wild and wise.”

Watching her whirl out the front door, Nicholas instinctively made the sign of the cross. What had gotten into his daughter’s sweet, innocent nanny? If her date tried to act out half the scenarios that had raced through Nicholas’s head, then she wouldn’t be home until February.

Pacing the den, he swore under his breath. He should have hired the middle-aged woman in orthopedic shoes. That woman wouldn’t have given him acid indigestion. She probably wouldn’t have allowed Molly to nearly pull her hair out by her roots like Gail did, either, though, he reminded himself.

Pushing his fingers through his hair, he told himself he needed to remember that Gail might try to be wild, but underneath the sexpot trappings, she was sensible and careful. She would never use that crazy pickup line about panties. Never, he told himself, and wondered why he felt jumpy.

He forced himself to sit down and pick up the paper. This was going to be a peaceful evening. A relaxing evening, he told himself, and began to read the article he’d put aside.

With every other sentence, however, a question plagued him without mercy. Was she wearing panties or not?

Gail decided to pretend that Nicholas was her uncle. It was the only way she was going to survive such close proximity with the sexiest man she’d ever met. They talked every evening about Molly, his day, her day. It would be too easy to slide into a futile crush on him.

Since he was her theoretical uncle, she decided she would also share her quest to unleash her inner goddess with him. Talking about thigh-high stockings removed all the forbidden mystery and would further ensure that she would be able to keep her head on straight.

“Molly’s going to walk any day,” she told Nicholas as she grabbed a soda and joined him in the den for their nightly conversation.

He looked at her in surprised pleasure. “Really? Any day?”

“Any day,” she said with a nod, sitting across from him on the leather sofa. “She loves it when I hold her hands above her head and get her moving.”

He sank into a chair, loosened his tie, unbuttoned the top button to his shirt and took a long swallow from his glass of red wine. “I don’t want to miss it,” he said.

Her heart squeezed tight and she smiled. “That’s gonna be tough. I don’t think Baronessa’s will let you stay away that long.”

He frowned. “True. Maybe you could videotape it.”

“It’s possible, but I have no idea when and where she’ll decide to take her first steps.”

He took another swallow of wine. “Okay. Just promise you’ll call me the minute she walks.”

“What if you’re in a meeting?”

“Interrupt,” he said.

She nodded and lifted her fingers in a quick little salute. “Whatever you say.”

“Good. I love the acquiescence. Nice change,” he said with a sexy grin.

“It’s temporary. Don’t get used to it.”

“Should have known,” he said wryly.

“Goddesses only acquiesce when it suits them,” she told him.

He looked at her and gave a slow nod. “Ah, we’re back to that.”

“We were never really away.”

He raked his hand through his hair. “What’s the latest?”

“You don’t have to pretend interest,” she said.

“Oh, I’m dying to know.”

“You’re making fun of me.” She stood, her feelings oddly hurt.

“I’m not,” he insisted, also standing. “I’m interested. Tell me the latest.”

She hesitated, then slowly sat down. “You’ve probably never had a very hard time with this because you’ve always been very—” She broke off. She refused to call him “hot” to his face again.

“Very what?” he prompted.

“Very appealing to the opposite sex. I’m sure you’ve never had any trouble attracting women.”

“True, but I may not have attracted the right kind of women. Case in point was Molly’s mother. She was always looking for a bigger paycheck. In fact, the only reason she didn’t come back to me when she found out she was pregnant was because she’d found another man with a bigger bank account and she told him that Molly was his daughter. I attracted a female barracuda.”

The bitterness in his voice was so strong she could almost taste it in the air she inhaled. “Do you still love her?”

He looked stunned. “Hell, no. I stopped loving her the day I broke up with her.”

“Then why do you let her continue to control your love life?”

His brow furrowed thoughtfully. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re so determined not to have a committed relationship with a woman that you could miss the chance to experience real love.”

He turned silent and brooding, taking a sip of his wine. “I’ll take that under advisement. What about you? If you dress like a tart, what kind of guy do you think you’ll attract?”

Gail gaped at him. “I’m not dressing like a tart.”

“Okay, that was a slight exaggeration,” he conceded in a grudging tone.

Gail continued, “Besides, I have different goals than you do. I’ve spent my entire life being regarded as one of the guys. I want to be…” She hesitated, feeling a flush of self-consciousness. “I want to experience my femininity. I’m younger than you and—”

Nicholas choked on his wine. “Younger? You make me sound ancient.”

“Well, not exactly ancient, but I think of you almost as an uncle and—”

“Uncle?”

“You are ten years older than I am.”

“That doesn’t make me old enough to put out to pasture.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that,” she said, wondering if she’d gone a little too far with the mention of the uncle thing. She shook her head. “We’ve strayed from my original point. The whole goddess thing got started when I took a sexy quiz.”

Nicholas went very still. “With whom did you take this quiz?” he asked in clipped tones.

“With myself,” she said. “The magazine had a quiz to test your sexiness, and the reason I’m trying to do some of this goddess stuff is because I flunked it. I flunked the sexy quiz. I bet you’ve never flunked a sexy quiz in your life.”

Nicholas gave a long-suffering sigh. “That quiz didn’t prove anything. The only sexy quiz worth a damn is conducted in bed with a member of the opposite sex.”

He would know, Gail thought, feeling that assurance in every feminine pore of her body. He would know everything she didn’t know about being sexy. “Well, as I’ve previously mentioned, you’re an expert in this area, and I’m trying to become more expert, if that’s possible.”

He nodded and took a long drink of wine. “So what’s the latest?”

“Just girl things, like an eight-hour lipstick designed to last through marathon lovemaking. The magazine does tests,” she said, feeling a little silly.

“Did you buy some?” he asked her, his gaze intent.

Her cheeks heated, but she nodded.

“Found someone you want to test it on?”

“Not yet,” she said, lifting her chin. “But I’ll be ready when I do.”

While Nicholas attended a managers’ meeting at corporate headquarters two days later his assistant slipped into the room and gave him a note.

Your daughter is walking all over the place.

A rush of pride and joy raced through Nicholas. Molly was walking. He excused himself from the meeting and put his first vice president in charge. He grabbed the car keys from his office, told his assistant he would return later and immediately drove home.

He threw open the door and headed for the den, where Gail was holding Molly’s hand as the toddler marched around the room. Gail spotted him first.

“Look, Molly! It’s Daddy!” she said.

Molly’s face lit up.

“Show Daddy how you can walk,” Gail gently urged.

Her brows furrowed in concentration, the toddler wobbled toward him with no assistance from Gail.

Nicholas dropped to his knees to catch her. He praised her and cherished the wet kiss she plastered on his cheek. His daughter was beaming. His heart felt so full it almost hurt to breathe. When Molly had first come to live with him, a secret part of him had feared she would remain sad and afraid for a long, long time. Just a few weeks in Gail’s care, however, had turned her around. Nicholas wondered if Gail had any idea of her impact.

“A few weeks ago I never would have dreamed she would be walking so soon,” he said, allowing Molly to cling to his hand as she continued to practice her new skill around the room.

“It was time,” Gail said.

“But all she did was cry in the beginning.”

“She just needed time to regroup. You probably wouldn’t understand it since you seem to operate on a different level,” she said with a wry gentleness, “but most of us humans need a little time to catch our breath when we suffer a loss.”

“What do you mean I operate on a different level?”

“I mean a lot has been expected of you and you have always risen to the occasion. You don’t appear to stumble or fall very often.”

He filed that in a corner of his brain, determined to think about it later. Lifting Molly and holding her against him, he met Gail’s gaze. “You’ve done a great job with her. She wasn’t at all easy in the beginning.”

“Thanks, but there’s something really special about knowing such a vulnerable little person needs you.” She smiled. “It makes you willing to do just about anything for them.”

“Well, thank you,” he said, knowing the words weren’t adequate. “From both of us.”

“My pleasure.”

“Maybe we could celebrate tonight by going to Baronessa’s for ice cream.”

Gail’s face fell. “I can’t, but you two should definitely go.”

Nicholas frowned. “Why not?”

“It’s my night off, and I have a date.”

“Oh. Maybe another time,” he muttered, irritated that she had a date, irritated that another man was going to have the opportunity to be with her tonight, irritated that he was irritated.

Nicholas returned to work and arrived home in time to watch Gail leave for her date. She wore a short black dress, more elegant than some of the others she’d acquired, and he noticed she’d improved her makeup technique. Her perfume lingered after she left, and he stood in the foyer inhaling it until he realized what he was doing and felt like an idiot.

Tired from her day of walking, Molly fell asleep early, so Nicholas nixed the idea of visiting his family’s gelateria. He wasn’t much in the mood, anyway. Nor was he much in the mood to watch a Boston Celtics game or read the newspaper in front of him. The hour grew late, and his imagination went through the roof. He wondered what Gail was doing.

He wondered if this guy she was out with cranked her engine and if she had decided to give her lipstick the eight-hour lovemaking test. He wondered if this guy would try to find out if she was wearing panties, or a thong or nothing beneath that black dress.

His gut tensed at the images, and his skin felt too tight for his body. He should be thinking about the woman he would be seeing tomorrow night, not Gail. He was attending a cocktail party with one of the most beautiful women in Boston. It should be easy to switch his focus away from Gail. So, why wasn’t it?

Just after midnight he turned off the television and walked toward the stairs. He heard a sound outside the front door. The door whooshed open and Gail, drenched from head to toe, stumbled inside. Her makeup was smeared and her hands were trembling.

“What in hell?”

She gave a short smile. “Had a little disagreement with my date.”

An ugly suspicion seeped through him. “What do you mean?”

“He insisted that I go back to his apartment with him and I disagreed. He got pushy…”

Nicholas tensed. “How pushy?”

She wrinkled her nose. “You know if you don’t want somebody’s tongue in your mouth, you definitely don’t want it down your throat. And you definitely don’t want him going fishing under your dress. He was worse than a toddler. I must’ve said no a dozen times. Maybe he was deaf. And I didn’t try any of the goddess come-on lines.”

Fury raced through him. “What’s this guy’s name? He sounds like he needs to learn some lessons about how to treat women.”

Gail looked at Nicholas in surprise. “His name was Jeremy, but—”

“Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”

“Absolutely sure.” Taking off her coat, she looked down at her shoes and winced. “High heels were not designed for a one-and-a-half-mile trek through Boston. I’m going to have the worst blisters in the history of my existence, and this guy was not worth it. Could you please turn around? I can’t bear to have these stockings on one more minute.”

Nicholas turned, still infuriated. “Maybe you should let me screen your dates.”

“My dates are screened. I ask the guys on the volleyball team, and they get the scoop. This guy was new in town, though.” He heard her sigh. “Oh, thank God, the stockings are gone. I think I really offended him when I told him to take a cold shower.”

She seemed less shaky now. Relief trickled through him. “Did you really walk that far?”

She nodded. “No cabs available this late in the rain.”

“You should have called me,” he said, moving closer to her.

She sighed. “I couldn’t do that. You’re my boss.”

“Damn it,” he said, taking her arm. “Your safety is important to me and Molly. If you ever get in this kind of situation again, I insist that you call me.”

She paused, her gaze meshing with his. “It’s not likely to happen again, but if you really mean it—”

“I do.”

“Okay. Now all I want is a hot bath.”

“Jacuzzi?” he offered, pushing a damp strand away from her face, wanting to take her in his arms and frustrated that he shouldn’t.

Her eyes darkened with the same forbidden desire that he felt in his gut. She shook her head, but he could read the memories of their shared passion written on her face. “The Jacuzzi is a big no-no for me,” she said. If her eyes could talk, they would have said, in the sexiest way possible, “And you’re the biggest no-no, of all.”

Nicholas felt the growing, dangerous urge to show Gail just how pleasurable her no-nos could be.

Six

Nicholas was out with one of his beautiful women. It should be a long evening. Dinner and the opera. Gail told herself she wouldn’t have wanted to attend the opera, anyway.

“You are lots more fun than any opera,” she said to Molly as she fed her SpaghettiOs.

Molly opened her mouth and gave a pasta smile.

Gail winced. “We are definitely going to have to work on your table manners.”

The doorbell rang, and the housekeeper called out that she would answer it. “Wonder who that is,” Gail said to Molly when she heard several female voices. She’d barely blinked before four women filled the doorway. She immediately recognized Gina, and though all the women had distinctive features, she could see a Barone family resemblance.

“We’re here to see the bambina, and we’re not taking no for an answer,” the most petite woman said. With dark-brown hair and brown eyes, she was exquisitely pretty.

“Stop it, Maria,” Gina said. “You’re scaring Gail. The least you can do is introduce yourself.”

The young woman immediately stepped forward with a friendly smile and extended her hand. “I’m Maria Barone, the youngest. We couldn’t stay away when Gina told us about Molly. Nick says she’s walking. You must bring Molly to the gelateria.”

“We were going to come last night, but I had a date and Nicholas is at the opera tonight.”

“Oh, he’s gone,” another of the women said in delight. “That means he won’t be able to hustle us away too quickly. I’m Rita, number seven in birth order.” The energetic woman laughed. “Don’t worry. There won’t be a quiz. Gina, Maria and I live in the same brownstone. I hope you don’t mind us barging in. Since I wasn’t working and none of us had plans for the evening, we decided we had to get a look at our niece. Nick has been very protective of her.”

The quietest of the group stepped forward. “I’m Colleen,” she said. “I’ve heard many good things about you from my mother. She says you’ve done wonders with Molly.”

“Thank you,” Gail said, overwhelmed but delighted to meet Nicholas’s sisters. With this group, she wouldn’t have even a minute to think about him and his date. “I’m pleased you could visit. Molly and I didn’t have anything planned except finishing SpaghettiOs and a bath.”

“SpaghettiOs,” Maria echoed, making the sign of the cross. “My father would wig out. But he’s not here, so he doesn’t need to know. May I feed her?”

Gail gave the spoon to Nicholas’s sister and moved to the side so that she was still in Molly’s line of vision. “You don’t live with your other sisters?” she asked Colleen.

Before Colleen could reply, Gina stepped forward, shaking her head. “Colleen left the convent a couple of years ago, but she decided it would be a shock to her system to live with us after living with nuns.”

Colleen chuckled. “I think they were more concerned about my moral influence.”

“It’s hard to combine wild and wise,” Gail said, envying the family closeness, “but it could be fun to try.”

“Henri gave you a copy of Goddess magazine, didn’t he?” Gina asked, apparently recognizing the lingo. “I love your new haircut.”

“Thank you. Yes, he did. I don’t think I’ve reached true goddessdom yet. I ended up walking home from a bum date last night.”

Gina gasped. “Oh, no. Are you okay?”

“Fine. Your brother’s very protective.”

All four sisters groaned, then burst into laughter. “Tell us something we don’t know,” Rita said. “When we first moved into the brownstone, he and my father wanted to hire an on-site chaperon.”

“Gosh, it must be nice having such a big family,” Gail said, unable to hide the secret longing she’d had for years.

“It’s got ups and downs,” Colleen said. “What about your family?”

“Both my parents have passed away, so it’s just my brother and me.”

Colleen murmured sympathetically and patted her hand. “Well, we can adopt you.”

“Sure,” Gina said. “We can intrude in your business, show up unannounced and tell you how to run your life. We’re very experienced at that.”

“Sounds great to me,” Gail said.

“Oh, I like this one,” Rita said with a smile. “And I bet you have a great effect on Nick.”

Gail’s heart stopped and she shook her head. “I’m not at all his type.”

“Why not?” Maria asked, cleaning Molly’s face with a wet cloth.

“Well, for starters, I’m not beautiful,” Gail said, rising when Molly began to fuss. “Cleanup’s gotta be done fast with this one.”

“Who told you you’re not beautiful?” Maria asked.

“No one needed to,” she said, uncomfortable with the discussion. “I’m just not his type.”

“He must think you’re important if he’s protective of you,” Gina said. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t bother.”

“Oh, I’m very important because Molly needs me,” she said as much for herself as for Nicholas’s sisters. “Who wants to help give her a bath?”

“Me,” the women said at once, and Gail was relieved she’d successfully changed the subject. She couldn’t help liking the women for their gentleness with Molly. Each of them took a turn caring for her. After they put Molly to bed, they surprised Gail by each embracing her at the door before they left.

Afterward Gail sat at the kitchen table and daydreamed about what it would be like to have such a large, caring family. She suspected they didn’t know how precious their bond was. The yearning to belong knotted her chest, and her eyes watered.

Dismayed at her emotional reaction, she sniffed back her tears and pulled open her latest issue of Goddess. Surely that would distract her.

Nicholas entered the quiet house and leaned against the wall, giving a sigh of relief. The evening had been interminable. Corinne had looked incredibly beautiful and classy. She had hung on every word, agreed with everything he said, and he’d been bored out of his mind.

Gail paid attention to him, but she didn’t hang on every word, and she sure as hell didn’t agree with everything he said. He closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. This situation was growing more insane with each passing day. He had thought an evening with Corinne would wipe Gail from his mind, and Corinne had indicated she would be more than willing for him to stay the night at her condominium.

He should have stayed. He should have allowed her to take care of his needs, but the prospect had left him lukewarm at best. Lord, he hoped nothing was wrong with him, he thought, pushing away from the wall and heading for the kitchen. He pulled a bottle of wine from the cabinet and tugged the cork from the bottle. He inhaled the aroma from the cork, then poured himself a glass of the merlot.

He took a long, slow sip and savored the full-bodied flavor. Glancing at the table, he noticed a magazine open on the table. Gail or his housekeeper must have left it there. Curious, he walked over and looked at it. The title of the article grabbed his attention immediately: “50 Wicked Ways to Seduce Your Man.”

This was definitely not his housekeeper’s magazine. Nicholas checked the front cover. Goddess. He should have known. He flipped back to the article and scanned the list of suggestions. “Lick his earlobes… Blindfold him and skim all his sensitive places with just your hair… Lick his belly button… Lick his…”

Growing warm, he could easily imagine Gail letting her wild hair fall over his bare body. He grew hard.

If Gail was reading this, he wondered with whom she planned to try out the fifty wicked seductions. The idea of her trying any of them with any man but him drove him nuts.

“This is not good, old man,” he muttered to himself. He scanned a few more of the wicked suggestions and groaned. He shut the magazine and swore under his breath. How in hell was he supposed to sleep now?

“Your sisters visited last night and your mother called,” Gail said to Nicholas the next morning as she set a cup of dry cereal on the high-chair tray in front of Molly.

“My sisters visited whom? You and Molly?” he asked.

She nodded, her eyes wide. “All four of them.”

“Did they overwhelm you?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee. After taking his cold shower, he’d had a hard time going to sleep, so more than ever he needed a jolt of caffeine.

“No, I liked all of them. It must be wonderful having a large, close-knit family.”

“Most of the time,” he said. “What did my mother want?”

“She’s having a cocktail party tomorrow night and wants you to come. She also asked me to come and bring an escort.”

Nicholas gulped his coffee, nearly scalding his tongue. He was starting to feel as if there was a conspiracy against him. First his sister had encouraged Gail to get a makeover from Henri. Now his mother was inviting Gail and a man of her choice to a cocktail party. “She did?”

“Yes, but I don’t have to go. Someone needs to watch Molly and—”

“We could leave after Molly goes to sleep and Ana can watch her,” he said.

She eyed him carefully. “Are you sure? After all, I’m not family. I’m an employee.”

She seemed determined to remind him of that. “But you’re a personal family employee. If my mother invited you, then you should attend. And if you can’t think of an escort—”

“Oh, I can,” she said quickly. “And he’s been checked out by all the guys on the volleyball team. Very nice guy. A doctor. He already asked me out, so I just need to see if he’s available tomorrow night.”

Nicholas’s coffee tasted suddenly bitter in his mouth. “Okay. If it doesn’t work out, let me know.” He watched her from behind his cup, and desire twisted a knot in his belly. “When I came home last night, I happened to see the article you’d been reading.”

“What article?” she asked, her face blank. Realization hit, and her cheeks turned pink. She looked away. “Oh, that article.”

“Have you found anyone on whom you want to try out those fifty wicked seductions?”

She bit her lip, keeping her gaze focused on Molly’s cereal. “Not yet, but if I keep trying, then maybe…”

“Maybe?” he prompted.

“Not maybe,” she said with a resolute expression. “If I keep looking, then I know I will.”

Her determination gave him heartburn. Damn it. If she was going to try wicked things with a man, then he wanted to be the man. Warning bells clanged in his head, but he ignored them. It had been a long time since Nicholas had wanted a woman the way he wanted Gail. “Number thirteen looks interesting,” he said, dumping his coffee into the sink.

She whipped her head up to stare at him. “Excuse me?”

“I said number thirteen looks interesting,” he told her, moving closer. He brushed his daughter’s head with a kiss, and trailed his finger over Gail’s open mouth. “Watch out. Don’t catch a fly,” he joked. “Did anyone ever tell you that you have the kind of mouth men fantasize about?”

She shook her head.

“Hmm. See you tonight,” he said, and headed for the door with a hard-on and an ounce of satisfaction from her stunned expression.

As soon as Molly allowed, which turned out to be during her afternoon nap, Gail zipped in front of her bathroom mirror to stare at her mouth. She poked at it and stretched it, trying to see what Nicholas had seen. She had the kind of mouth that men fantasized about? Why? she wondered. Her lips were a little plumper than average, she supposed, not small and dainty. But then there wasn’t much about her that was small and dainty, she thought wryly.

She kept looking at her mouth and wondered what kind of fantasies men had. The magazine’s list came to mind, and she watched herself blush in the mirror. Giving up on the appeal of her mouth, she headed back downstairs to find out exactly what number thirteen was. Not that she would ever take part in it with Nicholas, but it would just be interesting to know.

“Straddle his lap and give him a deep French kiss just before you—”

Woo-hoo! Gail felt her temperature skyrocket and slammed the magazine closed. So that was what Nicholas liked. She closed her eyes and a hot visual filled her mind. She wondered if she would be able to do that, especially with Nicholas. Gail took a deep breath, opened her eyes and reopened the magazine again, studying the article with new eyes. What would it be like to do all fifty wicked things with Nicholas?

That evening Molly was fussy due to teething, so it took some extra time and effort to get her settled. By the time the baby was sleeping, Gail was tired and her shoulders ached. Nicholas had stayed late at the office, but she knew he had arrived home because she could hear him moving around in his bedroom. The flood of images that had crossed her mind earlier that afternoon invaded her mind again.

Gail shook her head. “Uh-uh. I’m not going there again,” she told herself, and turned toward her bedroom. Just as she opened her door, Nicholas stepped into the hallway. She automatically stopped.

“How was Molly today?” he asked, moving toward her.

“She was teething a little, but she was still mostly intent on perfecting her new skill. She was walking like she was planning a hike to China.”

“Bet she wore you out,” he said. “Why don’t you join me for a glass of wine downstairs?”

Why don’t I? A dozen sensible reasons immediately sprang to mind. The expression in his eyes sent those same reasons scattering. “That sounds nice. Just for a few minutes,” she added more for herself than for him.

She followed him downstairs to the den, where he opened a bottle of red wine and poured each of them a glass, then turned the Boston Celtics basketball game on low volume. Gail hadn’t perfected the art of appreciating red wine. She took a big swallow and wrinkled her nose.

He chuckled, sitting beside her on the sofa. “You don’t like it?”

“I’m not used to it. I was raised by a teetotaler. I’m trying to acquire the taste,” she said. “Any tips?”

“Sip it. If you really want to enjoy fine wine, you don’t gulp it the same way you do a soft drink.”

“Okay,” she murmured, looking at him over the rim of her glass. She took a tiny sip, which went down more smoothly. His gaze locked with hers and she felt her chest tighten. She searched for a way to break the tension. “How was your day?”

“Long, but productive. We’re in the process of unveiling another flavor of gelato for Valentine’s Day. Everything needs to be coordinated with Operations. PR and Marketing often ask the impossible.”

“But you deliver,” she said, instinctively knowing he did. She absently rubbed her sore shoulder.

His eyes glinted with sensual promise. “I try.” He pointed to her shoulder. “What’s going on there?”

She shrugged. “Just a twinge I get every now and then from that night I overdid it at the volleyball game.”

“Turn around. I’ll rub it,” he offered.

“Oh, no, that’s okay. It’s not that bad. It’s just—”

“C’mon,” he coaxed, setting his wineglass on the coffee table. “I’ll make you feel better.”

A delicious shiver ran down her spine. If any man could make a woman feel better, she would just bet it was Nicholas. “I’m not sure an employer should—”

“We’re more team than employer/employee. Would you let one of your teammates rub your shoulder?”

“I guess,” she said, thinking that her teammates didn’t have bedroom eyes. The background noise of the game was comforting, not mood music, she told herself. She gave in to temptation and turned around so that her back was to him.

She felt him move so close she could feel his breath on the nape of her neck. Her heart jumped. Maybe this was a stupid idea, she thought. He lowered his hands to her neck and she pushed away her protests. His fingers kneaded her tight muscles. His hands were pure magic.

Closing her eyes, she couldn’t hold back a moan.

“Good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered, and another moan escaped.

“That’s a sexy sound,” he murmured.

She hadn’t intended to make a sexy sound, she thought. “I didn’t realize how tense my shoulders were until now.”

He said something in Italian.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“You have beautiful hair,” he said, continuing to massage her shoulders and neck.

“Before or after the haircut?” she asked.

“Both, but you don’t try to restrain it as much since you got the cut.”

She laughed. “I’ve been trying to restrain my hair since I could hold a rubber band.”

“And now it’s time to let it go wild,” he said, shifting so that he could prop one leg on the sofa and pull her between his thighs.

Acutely aware of the way his body surrounded hers, she only managed a nod. He slid his fingers underneath the neckline of her pullover, and she felt another rush of tantalizing pleasure. He lightly skimmed his fingertips around the front of her neck and down to her collarbones, then returned to her shoulders.

When she inhaled, she caught the seductive scent of his aftershave. An edgy kind of restlessness skipped through her. Although his hands soothed her shoulders, other parts of her felt jumpy, sensitized, hungry. She took a sip of wine, then another.

He kneaded his way down her spine, then slipped his hands up under her shirt and slowly moved his fingers over her back. He skimmed his fingers under her bra strap, but didn’t undo it.

The mere suggestion of him touching her bare skin and bra made her nipples tighten. The instant response took her off guard. If he affected her this much with a mere back rub, what would happen if he tried to seduce her?

The thought made her even more restless, and she shifted. He paused at her movement and she heard a quiet intake of breath before he continued. It took less than a moment for her to register his arousal against her derriere.

Was that possible? she wondered. Her mouth went dry and she sipped the wine in earnest. His fingers slid from the center of her back to her rib cage. She held her breath, a forbidden part of her not wanting him to stop. The game continued to play in the background, although she couldn’t have told the score if her life had depended on it. He rubbed his thumbs on her back while his fingers slid upward to just below her bra. She held her breath again, wondering if he would touch her breasts.

He slid his hands down again and she bit her lip in frustration. Her body humming with unspent need, she shifted against the restless feeling.

He stopped again and murmured something under his breath.

She would have asked him what he’d said if she could have found the words, but her pulse was pounding as if she’d just run a marathon.

He skimmed his hands upward again just beneath her breasts. He slid his fingers underneath the edge of her bra and she waited breathlessly for him to continue. He stroked the underside of her breast, and she felt a growing heat between her thighs. When his fingertips finally brushed her taut nipples, she sighed with relief.

She took another sip of wine to combat the dryness of her mouth.

“Good?” he asked, his voice vibrating deliciously against her ear.

She nodded.

“You mean the wine?” he asked in a voice that taunted and teased.

“Everything,” she had to admit.

He unsnapped her bra, pulled her back against him and cupped her breasts. “You know how you’re sipping that wine,” he said, rubbing her nipples between his thumb and forefinger so that she felt a corresponding tug in her secret places.

“Yes,” she said, feeling hot all over.

“That’s how I want to sip your nipples.”

The image was so erotic she nearly dropped her wineglass. He saved it, wrapping his hand around hers, then he set the glass on the table next to his.

She turned to meet his gaze. “What are we doing?”

“Nothing we both don’t want to do,” he said, and pulled her mouth to his. He moved his mouth from side to side, then dipped his tongue into her mouth to taste her. He continued to move his hands over her breasts.

He overwhelmed her with such a plethora of sensations that she couldn’t assimilate them all. His mouth on hers, his tongue seeking and seducing, his hands arousing. Acting on instinct, she responded to his kiss by curling her tongue around his. He gave a low groan of approval, sank backward on the sofa and pulled her body on top of his. When he cupped her bottom to rock her pelvis against his, her mind went fuzzy. She balled her fists, not knowing what to do with her hands.

“Touch me,” he told her.

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” he dared her. “Everywhere.”

She hadn’t thought her heart could race any faster. She wondered if she was dreaming. This was the one vision she’d been afraid to dream. She feared that even the power of dreaming about Nicholas would put her under his spell.

She squeezed his shoulders with her fingers and wished she was touching his bare skin. He rocked his pelvis against her and she shuddered at the hardness there. He pulled her slightly upward. Meeting her gaze, he lifted her shirt so that her breasts were bared.

“Number thirteen with clothes,” he told her, then lifted his mouth to her breast.

The room began to spin. It was too easy to lose herself in the sensation of his mouth on her nipple, his hands guiding her bottom over his hardness. If only she was naked. If only he was, too. He would be thrusting inside her, rubbing the ache he created.

He pulled her mouth down to his and took her with his tongue the same way he would take her body. Gail was so turned on she couldn’t think, could hardly breathe.

He pulled his mouth from hers, his breath harsh. “Come with me to the cocktail party tomorrow night,” he said.

The possessive tone in his voice thrilled her. “I— I—”

“Say yes,” he coaxed her.

She wanted to, but something prevented her. Her brain felt as if it were moving more slowly than paint dried. She tried to concentrate. “I—” She broke off. Dr. Gallimore. “I can’t,” she finally said. “Dr. Gallimore has already agreed to go with me.”

Nicholas met her gaze. “Break the date.”

“I can’t,” she said, regret burning through her like acid. “It wouldn’t be fair. I’ve already asked him.”

“But you would rather be with me,” he said, everything about him daring her to deny it.

Much to her irritation, she couldn’t deny it. Her body was still pulsing with desire for him. “Did anyone ever tell you that you can be just a little bit arrogant?”

“No.”

“Well, you can,” she said, pulling her shirt back into place and trying not to think about how much she wanted to be as close to him as humanly, physically possible. “How would you feel if I broke a date with you?”

In one smooth movement, he rose to a sitting position and slipped his hand through her hair. “Once we had each other, you wouldn’t be able to imagine yourself with anyone else.”

That was exactly what she feared. She swallowed over a knot of anticipation. “Why are you interested in me? In the realm of sexual experience, I’m a guppy and you’re a shark. You eat guppies for breakfast.”

He gave her hair a gentle tug, and his lips tilted into a grin so sexy she felt as if she was stuck in a permanent free fall. “I could make you like being my breakfast.”

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