by Donna Fasano
What others are saying about books by Donna Fasano:
"...complex, funny and realistic..." ~Wilmington News Journal
"A fast-paced riotous look at family life today. Donna Fasano is right on target! I assure you, WHERE’S STANLEY? is a must read!" ~Donna Zapf, SingleTitles.com
"Excellent" rating by BookReview.com
"An interesting character study that provides the reader a close look at a fascinating protagonist." ~Harriet Klausner, BN.com
"Read in one sitting! I started this book and didn't put it down until I'd finished. It has plenty of wit and fun, and also more heart than the usual run of chick-lit. It's got mystery, humor, romance, and friendship....go out and buy this book!" ~E. Lewis, Librarian, BN.com
"An absolutely beautiful story." ~Debby, CataRomance.com
"BOUND BY HONOR is a rarity -- a marriage of convenience story that really works. Both characters have valid motivation, and their relationship develops convincingly." ~Catherine Witmer, RomanticTimes.com
Nanny
and the
Professor
By Donna Fasano
Nanny and the Professor
By Donna Fasano
Copyright © Donna Fasano, 2012
Cover Artist/Cover Design, Heather McGrath
(www.heathermcgrathdesign.com)
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in any form, in whole or in part (beyond that copying permitted by U.S. Copyright Law, Section 107, "fair use" in teaching or research, Section 108, certain library copying, or in published media by reviewers in limited excerpt) without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.
Other books by Donna Fasano
The Merry-Go-Round
His Wife for a While
Mountain Laurel
Taking Love in Stride
Return of the Runaway Bride
An Accidental Family
Where's Stanley?
Visit the author's blog: www.DonnaFasano.blogspot.com
Twitter: www.Twitter.com/DonnaFaz
Facebook: www.Facebook.com/DonnaFasanoAuthor
Chapter One
Cassie Simmons parked her car in front of the impressive stone Tudor-style home and rechecked the house number carefully. In the hopes of calming her jittery nerves she smoothed her hand against her tense abdomen, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply several times. Mary Kingston, Cassie's landlady, had claimed that her nephew was desperate for a live-in nanny. Cassie hoped it was true– because she was desperate for a job.
She turned off the ignition and fixed her anxious gaze on the big house that sat back some distance from the road. The butterflies in her stomach were having a grand old time dancing a jig to the music her apprehension provided.
Mrs. Kingston had said that, although her nephew wouldn't be the easiest person to work for, the nanny position came with room and board, and the salary was generous. Of course, Mary could have gotten the details wrong. It was a well-known fact that Mary could be a little… absent-minded. The polite word choice that had run through Cassie's thoughts had her grinning in spite of her angst. Mary Kingston wasn't just absent-minded; hell, she was downright scatterbrained, a half-baked ball of wacky sunshine. In the most lovable, slap-happy way, of course.
But if Mary's information was even partially accurate, this job could be the perfect solution to Cassie's predicament. Working for a demanding employer didn't worry her in the least. She'd been there, done that. She only hoped that, once she landed the job, she could make Professor Joshua Kingston understand that Eric came as part of the package. There was no compromising on that.
As she thought of the impending interview with Professor Kingston, her hands started to tremble slightly. The man couldn't have become a college professor without possessing his fair share of smarts. Cassie knew she'd have to keep her wits about her if she were to keep him from discovering her secret.
She'd kept the awful truth from her last employer for years. She hadn't lied; she simply hadn't felt the need to answer questions that had never been asked. She'd lost the position, though, regardless of her excellent job performance record, once the plant manager had found her out.
Cassie would need to practice extreme caution when answering Joshua Kingston's questions. She planned to be truthful, as always, but that didn't mean she had to bare her soul to the man.
Tucking her purse under her arm, she started up the long, gently curving walkway. The air was thick with humidity as only summers in New Jersey could be. Yet, she was oblivious to the August heat as all the reasons she so crucially needed this job swam through her head; Eric needed new clothes, she owed the doctor for the last office visit when Eric had been so sick, and she still owed Mrs. Kingston for this month's rent. Next month's rent would be due in two short weeks.
The sigh she heaved did nothing to relieve the tightness in her chest. If she could convince Professor Kingston to hire her, she needn't worry about next month's rent. Her gaze swept across the front of the house. Living in digs this nice was an employment perk she'd never had before.
Halfway to the front door, an odd sound caught her attention. The sharp snap of a twig. Then another. She stopped and scanned the yard. Movement at the side of the house, way up near the second story, drew her gaze. She sucked in her breath. There, perched precariously high in the tree, was a little boy. His hold on the branch looked awkward as he reached out toward a furry ball of fluff. Cassie had to squint to see the tiny kitten out on the limb.
Cold fear crawled over her skin and she shuddered. The child was going to plunge to the ground, she was sure of it. Heedless of the flower bed bordering the walk, she dashed straight toward the tree.
"Here, Tinker," she heard the boy coax the kitten. Uncertainty wavered in his voice and he clearly wobbled on the narrow branch.
Looking up through the leaves, she could see him inching out farther, slow and unsteady. She was reluctant to call out to him, afraid that if she startled him he'd lose his already precarious perch.
The child's breath became raspy. "Oo- oo-" The utterance quivered with fear. "Oh, somebody help." But he said the words very quietly as if he weren't in the habit of causing a stir.
"I'm here," Cassie called. She could see the bottom of one of his sneakers protruding over the edge of the tree branch.
"I think I'm in trouble, lady," he said. Then with more certainty, he added, "I'm in big trouble, lady. Big trouble."
Cassie was distressed by the wheezy quality of his breathing. She could tell he was terrified. It struck her suddenly that the little boy in the tree must be Joshua Kingston's son, the child she'd be caring for. Well, this was as good a time as any to start.
"Don't look down," she told him. Her words were a hell of a lot calmer than what she was experiencing on the inside. "Hang on. I'm coming up to get you."
She jumped, trying to grab the lowest, fattest limb of the tree, but couldn't quite reach it.
"Where can I find a ladder?" she asked.
"I need help," the boy said, this time louder.
"I'm going to help you," Cassie explained, "but you need to help me too. I can't reach the branch to climb up to you. I need a ladder. Where can I find one?"
"Um, there should be one in the. . . in the garage. Over there. Aa-aah."
Cassie heard rather than saw him slip and catch hold. Her heart leapt into her throat, and the kitten offered a plaintive mew. Two green leaves sailed lazily toward the ground.
"Don't point," she said. "Just hang on w
ith both hands."
"Around back," he told her. "Around the house."
"Okay, listen-"
"I'm gonna fall, lady."
The helplessness and fear he conveyed tore at Cassie's heart. She tried to gauge just how far he was from the ground. If he did tumble from the tree, there was no doubt he'd be seriously injured. Bumps and cuts and bruises and broken bones and… The thought was just plain scary.
"I won't let you fall," she promised. How the heck she could keep it, she had no idea.
She heard him sniff jerkily, and when he started to cry, she knew she would have to calm him before she could go off to find the ladder.
"What's your name?" she asked, using an upbeat tone she hoped would both soothe him and instill his trust.
"Andrew."
"Listen to me, Andy. I want you to sit down. Slow and steady. Good. Now, clamp your knees against the branch and lock your ankles together, okay?"
Without speaking, he followed her instructions.
"Good boy. That's perfect. Hold on tight, now." She watched him clutch the limb with all his might. Her clear, unruffled directions seemed to give him a small bit of security. "Now, listen," she continued. "I'm going to get a ladder from the garage. I'll be back in less than a minute. Can you hold on that long?"
"Only one minute?" he asked.
"Yep. In fact, why don't you count New Jersey and I'll be back before you get to sixty of them."
"Count New Jersey? Wha'da'ya mean?"
"It's a game." She knew if he was concentrating on his words, no matter how silly they were, he'd be less focused on his hairy situation. "And it goes like this, one New Jersey, two New Jersey…"
"Three New Jersey, four New Jersey, five…"
She tossed her purse at the base of the tree. "Keep going and hold on tight!" Cassie cheered him on over her shoulder and then raced around the house, where she was relieved to find the garage door sitting wide open. The ladder hung on the wall in plain sight, and she lifted it off the hooks. Andy's counting reached her while she was still several yards from the tree.
"Thirty-seven New Jersey–"
"I'm here, Andy," she called, her voice sounding a bit breathless. "And thirty-seven seconds must be some kind of record. Don't you think? I sure do." She fumbled to open the ladder, a stream of yammering flowing in order to keep the boy's mind occupied. Her anxiety certainly had something to do with it as well. "I'll be up there before you can say 'Sally sells seashells by the seashore.'"
After checking to make sure the ladder was secure, she kicked off her leather heels, climbed the rungs and stepped onto the lowest tree branch. "Or how about 'big brown boxes bursting with blue balloons?'"
Andy opened his eyes, his mouth cracking into the beginnings of a smile. She still couldn't reach him, so she hoisted herself onto the next highest limb. Her knee scraped against the rough bark and she winced.
"I know one more." She maneuvered to a higher branch. "Four fat frogs feasted on fluffy fried feathers."
Pulling up face-to-face with him, she returned his grin. He looked so relieved to see her. She noticed his breathing wasn't nearly as labored as it had been before.
"'Four fat frogs,'" he began, and then he relented to a wheezy chuckle.
The tree branch wobbled and Cassie's eyes darted toward the ground.
"No laughing, now. Let's save that for later."
Sliding her hands over his thin arms, she felt his fatigued muscles quaking and knew he couldn't hold on much longer.
"How in the world did you get up here?" she whispered. "I couldn't even reach the first branch."
Before he could answer, the kitten gave another pitiful cry.
"Tinker's scared," Andy said, worry biting into his brow.
"We'll get you and Tinker down as soon as we can."
"Can't go down," he informed her. "Gotta go in."
"In?" She looked at the side of the house and saw an open window. "Oh, I see."
She shook her head and laughed, despite the situation. "Actually, it would probably be easier to get you in than get you down, don't you think?"
"All I know is I want to get somewhere."
"Okay," Cassie said, calculating the length of the branch between Andy and the window. "I want you to inch backward, a little at a time."
He craned his neck to judge the distance himself. "I dunno if I can..."
"Sure, you can. Have you ever seen an inchworm bunch up the back part of his body?" Cassie was pleased to see that she'd gotten his attention. "Then the front part moves forward."
"Yeah."
"Well, we're going to do that, only backward. Push your body back and then wiggle your legs toward the window. Simple, right?" Cassie only hoped the suggestion worked as well in practice as it sounded in theory.
Grasping his forearms securely, she said, "Let's try."
Getting Andy back into his bedroom was surprisingly easy once she started him moving. But once inside, he was upset that Tinker was still stranded in the tree.
"I'll get the little rascal." Cassie inched her way along the branch to the kitten, then back again, handing the furry creature through the window.
"Oh, no," Andy wheezed, his voice filled with dread. "It's Dad." He grabbed a small aspirator, inserted the nozzle into his mouth and sucked deeply on the medication.
Cassie looked through the branches and saw a tall, dark-haired man standing at the back corner of the house. He frowned as he searched the yard with his intimidating gaze.
"Please don't tell on me," Andy pleaded in a whisper, snatching the kitten to his chest. "Dad will be so mad. I'll get in big trouble. I'll be punished for… forever. I'm not allowed to climb the tree."
With that, Andy slid the window closed and pulled down the shade, leaving Cassie out on the limb, literally.
She stared at the closed window a moment and then peered down through the leaves. Evidently, Joshua Kingston had caught sight of the ladder under the tree because he was walking toward it. How on earth could she explain? The professor looked awfully displeased, like a man who had a bad rash in a very delicate area. The inappropriate thought made her nearly groan aloud. Oh, hell, not now. She wished her brain wouldn't shoot off in surprising directions like that, but when she was feeling stressed or overwhelmed, those tactless little zingers seemed to explode out of nowhere. She'd come to think of them as a physiological venting system of sorts meant to release the tension.
But she needed to keep her mind clear and sharp if she was going to come up with a plausible story. Andy's father didn't seem at all the type of man who would appreciate a half-baked explanation of any kind.
"Please let this be a bad dream," Cassie whispered softly, but as she carefully made her way toward the ground, she knew she was getting closer and closer to a dreadful reality.
Joshua stopped by the ladder. He didn't have time for these neighborhood kids' nonsense right now. He expected his aunt's friend to arrive at any moment and he was going to have to cram a lot of information into a small amount of time. He had a plane to catch and he was already running late.
He didn't see anyone on the front lawn. Grasping a cool metal rung, he looked up into the tree. Instead of the branches and leaves one would expect, what met his gaze was a mile's worth of firm, feminine legs. There was no end to them. A flash of pink lacy panties caught his eye before his brain analyzed the sight and alerted him to the fact that he was looking up a woman's skirt. Joshua quickly looked out across the expanse of green grass.
"Excuse me," he called, his chin tucked pretty close to his chest.
"I'm sorry," the woman said.
He could hear her scramble through the branches and then felt the ladder wobble when she stepped onto it. It was purely the interest of safety alone that drew his gaze back to her and had him firming up his grip on the ladder's side rail.
She blustered, "I am really sorry."
Joshua watched her descent and was powerless against the muscle in his cheek that insisted on tugging one corn
er of his mouth into an appreciative grin as he admired the pair of shapely calves that were now at his eye level. He couldn't prevent his gaze from lingering on the faint creases on the backs of her cute knees before sliding to her well-defined thighs, all the way up to…
The soft, flowing fabric of her skirt swished to cover his view.
She hurried down the ladder and Joshua enjoyed the side-view of the scenery as her trim hips and shapely behind passed before his eyes, followed by her tiny waist, her firm, rounded breasts, and then her long, graceful neck. Then, when he was certain he would finally glimpse the face that belonged to this gorgeous body, she erroneously turned one rung short of the ground and lost her balance.
"Whoa, there!" he said, letting go of the ladder and clasping her upper arms in an effort to steady them both.
"Professor Kingston," she said in a rush, "I'm so very sorry."
Her voice was like a lively song. He couldn't wait to see the mouth that formed the sound of his name so liltingly.
The woman finally tipped up her chin, brushing heavy, dark tresses from her face, and looked at him. Long black lashes fanned out to frame the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. Like some rare, sought-after azure gem that caused men to covet, nations to clash. Her skin was as delicate as rose petals. And her lips. They reminded him of blushed wine, and their luscious fullness tempted a man to steal a small taste. Exactly as he would have guessed.
Joshua straightened his spine and blinked hard, stunned by the extent to which he was admiring this woman. Not only that, but he'd gotten completely caught up in some wildly fantastical description. Covet? Clash? Rose petals? Blushed wine? Exactly as he'd have guessed? Damned strange for him to think such things.
Cassie stared up at the man who held her in his secure embrace, and aggravation at herself flared inside her. It was bad enough that she was going to have to explain, without betraying Andy, why she had been climbing in this man's tree, but then to clumsily topple toward him only made her look like an even bigger idiot.
