Baby for the Billionaire(18)
Author: Maxine Sullivan

“That depends.”

He regarded her warily. “On what?”

“Before I give you my answer, I’d like to get the opinion of one of the top businessmen in the country.” She slanted him a teasing glance. “Would this be a good time to ask for a raise?”

Nothing about the events of today were funny, and yet he found himself grinning, anyway. “I’m sorry to say that now would be an excellent time.” He waved her back toward the chair in front of his desk. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable while we discuss an early-start bonus.”

Chapter Two

Mary opened the door to Jack’s office and regarded him with sympathetic eyes. “Ms. Stefano has asked to see you,” his assistant informed him. “Sorry, boss.”

He checked his watch. His brand-new nanny-slash-prospective-wife-to-be had lasted all of thirty minutes. He’d hoped for longer, but he was a realistic man. Isabella had driven away the best of the best. What chance did someone with Annalise’s lack of experience stand?

“Does she have Isabella with her?”

“No. She requested that the babysitter stay. He’s keeping an eye on your niece for the moment.”

Jack sighed. “Send her in.”

Annalise appeared a moment later, entering with that loose, hip-swing stride he found so attractive. More curls had escaped the tidy knot, bubbling down her back and around her face in g*y abandon. Her startling eyes, now a darker shade of honey-gold, were tarnished with concern.

“Mr. Mason—”

“Might as well make it Jack.”

She nodded impatiently. “This isn’t working, Jack.”

“I have to admit. You disappoint me.” He leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers against the leather armrest. “You also win the prize for shortest nanny on record.”

She froze, blinking her long sooty lashes at him. “Shortest—” Her breath exploded in a short laugh. “No, you don’t understand. I’m not quitting. I’d like to get Isabella out of here. We need to work together one-on-one away from your office. If we’re going to establish a routine, we should do that right from the start.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Unless you intend for us to come in and disrupt your work every day?”

“Of course not.” He checked his watch and frowned. “I was planning to take you home at lunchtime.”

Annalise shook her head. “That won’t work. There’s too much going on here, too much excitement. It’s getting Isabella riled up. We should leave now, and then I need you to sit quietly with her for a time and explain who and what I am. It would help with the transition.”

Jack frowned. “You haven’t already done that?”

He caught her unexpected flash of temper before she reined it in. “You’re her uncle, which makes you the authority figure,” she explained. “Isabella needs you to organize her world and then set the boundaries for that world. At school—even at day care—children learn very quickly that the teacher is in charge of them and the classroom, but that the principal oversees the entire school and is the ultimate authority figure. If you’re putting me in charge—as the teacher—you, as the principal, have to be the one to explain the rules so she knows that you back me up and that she’ll be sent to the principal’s office if she doesn’t behave appropriately toward the teacher.”

“Fine. I can take care of that right now.”

Annalise shook her head. “There are too many distractions here. It’s better to do it in the setting where we’re going to spend most of our time.”

“I have a full schedule today.”

Her mouth took on a stubborn slant. “No, right now you have a family obligation that takes precedence over your full schedule.”

“Damn it.” He allowed himself an entire ten seconds to stew. “You’re right, of course. I don’t like that you’re right. But, Isabella comes first.”

She didn’t attempt to disguise her relief. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.”

“Go pack her up. Tell the sitter he can leave. I’m sure he’ll be only too happy to run for the nearest exit.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want to join him?”

Stark emotion shifted through her gaze, rousing his curiosity. For some reason his niece had made quite an impact on Annalise. He’d seen that look in others when they’d seized on a project or an idea that touched them in some way. In just the short time since he’d hired his new nanny, she’d bonded with Isabella and would do whatever necessary to make certain the relationship worked.

“I’m staying,” she said quietly, confirming his conjecture.

For the first time Jack felt a stab of genuine hope. So far, so good. “Thank you, Annalise.”

Once his PI had gone over her background and given the all clear, Jack would move his marriage project to the next stage. In the meantime, if Annalise became emotionally connected to Isabella, so much the better. It might make her more amenable to his proposal. All he had to do was find the right buttons to push to convince her to cooperate, something he hoped the investigation might assist in uncovering.

The ride to his home was accomplished in blissful silence. Isabella went into her booster seat without a word—or rather, sound—of complaint. He wished it signaled an improvement, but he suspected she was merely resting up for the next round.

Heading into the South of Broad neighborhood of Charleston, Jack turned onto Battery and hit the remote control for the electric gates. Beside him, Annalise reacted to her first glimpse of Lover’s Folly with a soft gasp. “Home sweet home,” he murmured. “Hope you like it.”

Whatever facade she’d managed to don over the past few hours crumbled. “You live here? This is your home?”

Even he had to admit the four-story, nearly eleven-thousand-foot residence created quite an impact. Meticulously renovated over the past several decades, it boasted views of Charleston Harbor and James Island, and was listed as an exceptional example of historic architecture.

“It’s called Lover’s Folly, and I inherited it from my paternal grandmother, much to my father’s annoyance. He assumed he was next in line to own the place. It’s been in the family since the mid-nineteenth century, a decade or so before the War Between the States. My ancestors bought it from the original owner.”

“Why is it called Lover’s Folly?”

He pulled his Jaguar into the two-story brick carriage house, the structure large enough to house a half dozen vehicles, if he were given to that sort of excess. His housekeeper, Sara, shared the two bedroom apartment above the garage with her husband, Brett, who was employed as the gardener and general handyman.

“It was constructed as an apology to the man’s wife—” He spared a quick glance toward the backseat. To his relief, Isabella was sound asleep, no doubt worn out from her morning exertions. He lowered his voice. “When his wife found out he’d been keeping a mistress in high style, she demanded recompense. He had this house built to make up for his folly.”

A smile trembled on Annalise’s mouth. “For his folly for taking a mistress or for getting caught?”

Jack grinned. “No one’s quite certain, though there’s been endless speculation about that.” He exited the car and gently extracted Isabella from the backseat. She murmured groggily before burrowing against him and nodding off again. It was rare moments like this that convinced him he’d done the right thing, that this poor little mite needed him. “She’s exhausted, which means she’ll nap for a while. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“I gather it doesn’t last long?”

“No.”

That single, terse word said it all. He led the way into the kitchen and introduced Annalise to Sara. The housekeeper offered a warm smile before turning a wary eye on Isabella. “Little Madam is worn out, I see. But it must have gone well, considering you managed to hire another nanny.”

Jack slanted Annalise a quick, encouraging look. “One who plans to stay, I hope.” He inclined his head toward the steps at the far end of the kitchen. “I’ll be up in the nursery if you need me.”

He ascended the back staircase, climbing to the second floor. The nursery wing occupied the right-hand side of the U-shaped mansion. It had been designed in the days of large families and live-in servants, and consisted of four bedrooms, plus the nanny’s quarters, and a huge playroom. He carried Isabella into the room she’d chosen for herself. It overlooked a large patio and yard, and was enclosed by a towering stone wall. After settling his niece in her bed, he picked up the baby monitor and hooked it to his belt. Then he motioned to Annalise and escorted her to the playroom, where they could talk without disturbing Isabella.

The instant they entered the room, Annalise spun around to face him. She did her best to hide it, but she was seriously rattled. A deep flush sculpted her sweeping cheekbones, while her eyes rivaled the sun in their intensity. Though she stood without moving, the ringlets which had escaped her control trembled in agitation.

She took a deep breath, drawing his attention downward to where the vee of her jacket clung to the attractive swell of her br**sts and traced the outline of her narrow waist and the womanly flare of her hips. For some reason the nondescript black suit didn’t seem so nondescript anymore. Not when he examined all it concealed.

His nanny was a knockout.

“Color me officially overwhelmed,” she announced.

“I have every confidence that you’ll acclimate,” he replied.

Worry dug a small line between her brows. “I’m not so sure. I’ve only seen the smallest fraction of this place and I’m already blown away.”

“Relax, Ms. Stefano. One of the reasons I hired you was your impressive self-control.”

“No, the reason you hired me was because all the other rats had deserted the sinking ship.” She paced off a small measure of her agitation, giving him an excellent view of her endless legs and gloriously rounded backside. She spun around to face him. “Is this the sort of home Isabella came from?” she asked. “Was she accustomed to this sort of grandeur? To living among so many antiques?”

Jack forced himself to ignore the tantalizing view and focus on the business at hand. “No, Joanne and her husband, Paul, lived a far more simple life.”

Annalise’s expression grew troubled. “So many changes, poor baby,” she murmured. “It must be even more overwhelming for her than it is for me.”

“This is where and how I live. In time, my niece will become accustomed to it. She won’t have any choice.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Unless you expect me to sell a home that’s been in my family for over a hundred and fifty years?”

She waved that aside. “No, of course not.” She regarded him in momentary silence and he could see her marshaling and organizing her thoughts and impressions. “May I ask a personal question?”

Not a road he wanted to head down. Nonetheless, he inclined his head. “Feel free.”

“How did you gain custody of Isabella? Did your sister request you as guardian in her will?”

“It would have simplified matters if she had. Unfortunately, she didn’t.”

“So, you simply took your niece in? There was no one else?”

Anger flashed through him. He planted his fists on his h*ps and faced her down. “You say that as though you don’t consider me an appropriate guardian.”

She hesitated. “That’s not the word I’d use. You have a … a magnificent home. You’re a successful businessman. You’re well-intentioned—”

“But?”

She frowned. “Weren’t there any other family members willing to take her? Someone who has more time to devote to her care?”

“No. Paul has a sister. She flat out refused.”

“Flat out? But, why?”

“Because Isabella isn’t blood kin. Joanne and Paul adopted Isabella when she was only a few days old. For some reason, that let Paul’s sister off the hook.”

“And put you on it?” Annalise had adopted an expressionless mask again. But he’d begun to realize that the less emotion she showed, the more she felt. “Is that why you took her in? Because no one else stepped up?”

He gave her the look that would have most men in his rarified world trembling in their Berluti loafers. “Ms. Stefano, I hired you as Isabella’s nanny, not as my personal pop psychologist. My reasons for assuming guardianship of Isabella have nothing to do with you or the job you are to perform. A job for which I’m paying you quite a lot of money.”

To his amazement, she didn’t back down. In fact, she took a step closer. “Have I hit a hot button, Mr. Mason? Did you feel obligated to take her in? Are you protecting your image? Concerned with media scrutiny? Is that why Isabella’s here, so your personal and business image don’t take a hit?”

Fury vied with a primal awareness, one with a raw, sexual edge. Or perhaps the fury exacerbated the awareness he’d experienced the first moment he’d set eyes on her. “You are walking a very thin line, Ms. Stefano. If I had anyone who could take your place, I’d fire you on the spot.”

“For asking tough questions? Or do my questions hit a little too close to home?”

Her questions were identical to those Mrs. Locke had asked. That alone gave him pause. He was a private man who kept his personal life as far from the high beams of the media headlights as possible. He also kept his emotions under tight control, even tighter than Annalise did. Another lesson he’d learned at his father’s knee. As much as he hated the idea, he needed this woman. Isabella needed her. She might be the only person capable of keeping his tiny family intact.