Nanny and the Professor

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Nanny and the Professor Page 6

by Donna Fasano


  "Ah, yes," Joshua interrupted. "The pool."

  By the emphasis he placed on the words, Cassie instinctively felt he was spoiling for a fight. Anxiety knotted in her chest, but she refused to back down on this. The pool was not on the list of restrictions he'd given her and she would not allow him to dispute that fact. She stood abruptly and plunked her fist onto her hip. "Now, Professor–"

  "Joshua."

  This time his reminder, accompanied by an uplifting of his dark eyebrows, was so gentle, so beguiling, that it diffused every bit of tension that she'd perceived in the air between them only a moment before, and it confused her.

  She must have been wrong about his being bent on arguing, she thought. For some insane reason she found herself helpless against the smile that tugged at her lips–a smile that was responding to the subtle yet abrupt change in the atmosphere.

  There seemed to be an undercurrent of magnetic allure that drew her eyes to his and she wondered if he felt it, too. He returned her smile almost as in answer, and she shook her head, thinking again how his good looks simply whisked away her thoughts. What had they been talking about? Oh, yes, she remembered. The pool.

  Averting her gaze, she sat back down, took a deep breath and started again. "Joshua, I really feel it's necessary that I point out–"

  "That the pool wasn't on the list," he said, finishing for her.

  Her gaze flew to his and he nodded ruefully.

  "You see, I just checked the list," he said. "It's right here on my desk."

  A smug expression crept across her face and then stubbornly lingered there. He chuckled.

  "It's nice of you not to say 'I told you so,'" he said, his eyes lighting with a hint of teasing sarcasm. "But I have a terrible suspicion you're thinking it."

  His easy manner made her comfortable enough to laugh at his teasing.

  "I guess I was in such a hurry on Friday that I forgot to add the pool," he said.

  Meaning to straighten out the other misconception he had concerning her swimming ability, she started to speak, but didn't get the chance.

  "However, I must tell you that you weren't the only one to toot your horn," he informed her.

  A boyish grin dallied on his lips, a grin that softened his handsome, hard-edged jaw line until his features were so charming that Cassie's thoughts flew right out the nearest window. Again. She knew she'd intended on setting him straight about something, but for the life of her she couldn't remember what.

  "Yes," he went on. "Andrew came into my room and told me that it was his fault about the pool. He admitted that he hadn't been entirely honest when you asked him about it. He said that he enjoyed having Eric here. That you insisted the two of them stick to sedentary diversions. He told me you even coaxed him into trying a new vegetable. It's his opinion that you're a wonderful nanny."

  The compliments spoken in Joshua's deep, rich voice sent a delicious quiver up the full length of her spine.

  "Sounds as if Andy was quite a little musician," Cassie murmured. She couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed by the accolades, but at the same time she felt pleased knowing Andy had stood up for her.

  "Mmm-hmm," Joshua said. "When my son toots, he really toots." His eyes widened suddenly and he laughed. "Well, that didn't sound quite right, now, did it? Especially when you had him eating broccoli."

  Cassie chuckled right along with him. Then she told him, "Andy's a wonderful little boy, Joshua."

  His gaze gleamed with warmth and pride, and the corners of his mouth curled upward. He became reflective as he commented, "In two short days you and Eric have really come to mean a lot to him. He's never come to the aid of even one of his nannies before this."

  Cassie gave a small shrug. "I'm sure it's because of Eric. Those two have had such a great time playing together." She related the story of Andy's famous marble thumb flick that Eric had begged to be taught.

  After a moment of absorbed silence, Joshua said, "I guess I have kept my son pretty isolated."

  She maintained an astute silence concerning the all-too-true statement.

  But his somber countenance quickly cleared. "So, how about it?" he asked. "Are you up to remaining here as Andrew's nanny?" He quickly added, "With Eric, of course."

  Bewilderment made her hesitate. This had been way too easy. He hadn't made her grovel. He hadn't insisted on an apology. He hadn't been high-handed or haughty or any of the things she'd been expecting. A voice in her brain kicked her into action.

  "I'd love to."

  "Good!" He stood and offered her his hand across the desk.

  Automatically, she reached out and grasped it. He didn't shake her hand as she'd expected, rather he clasped his other hand overtop hers, and simply held her hand in both of his. She knew very well it was meant as a sort of goodwill gesture between employer and employee, but the heat that radiated from him made her go all warm and prickly. The feel of his skin against hers was... exciting.

  She realized the anxiety that had weighed heavy in her stomach when she'd first come into the room was gone. And she found the emotions that replaced it were dark and mysterious.

  "Andrew will be so pleased." Joshua smiled as he continued to hold her hand.

  How about you, Joshua? she wondered. Are you pleased? The questions came out of nowhere and should have shocked her. But they didn't. She was getting used to her purely carnal knee-jerk reactions to him; however, even though the thoughts had been silent, her face flamed with heat. She just wished her thoughts didn't lead to such noticeable physical reactions.

  She was going to have to work harder at controlling herself. She was going to have to stop allowing his easy manner and open smile to take her by surprise.

  A deep sense of self-consciousness prompted her to try to pull her hand from his grasp, but he held firm. She could feel his intense gaze on her and she reluctantly tipped up her chin to look at him boldly, and it was as though he answered her unasked questions with the expression in his eyes– a look that was purely positive and optimistic. And something else. Something almost... sensual.

  The feeling she read in his deep mahogany gaze sent a tremor of pleasure pulsing through her entire body. His eyes, his face, his whole countenance became so intense with unspoken emotion that she couldn't bear it another moment. She tugged her hand from his and slowly lowered it to her side. And when she got her nerve up to glance his way again, his expression had become unreadable.

  Damn, her wild imagination was going to get her into deep trouble. She must have dreamed up the warm, enthusiastic look in his eyes. How would a man like him find someone like her even remotely attractive? Come on, Cassie, she silently scolded. Get real!

  Still, she had to know what he truly thought of her remaining here as Andy's nanny.

  "Professor..." She hesitated, remembering he wanted her to use his first name, and she still felt a little shy about doing so. "Joshua… you're not just doing this for Andy, are you? I mean, I know you're doing this for Andy, but I need to know that you trust me. I need to know that you aren't going to be worried about my ability to take care of your son."

  He stood there behind his desk, glanced down toward the floor, and then directed his gaze once again at her.

  "Cassie, I can honestly say that I wouldn't allow you to live in my house and care for Andrew if I felt you couldn't do the job. My son is the most important thing in my life. Hurt my son, and you'll be gone."

  His blunt statement had her nodding. This she could deal with; an employer assuring an employee that she would keep the job only as long as she could perform her duties satisfactorily. But that was fine with her, it was what she was used to. She understood this kind of relationship and could work well with it.

  However, she did wonder what she was going to do about those soft, almost enchanted feelings she felt toward Joshua. She couldn't dare let herself become attracted to the man. Oh, hell! She was already attracted to him. Admitting that was the only smart thing to do.

  The hard thing was goin
g to be controlling this fascination she had with him.

  "There are a few things we need to discuss," he told her.

  He motioned for her to sit, and then he lowered himself into his chair.

  "It's not that I don't ever allow Andrew into the pool," he said. "It's just that I like to be present. I like to make sure he doesn't overexert himself."

  "I told the boys they could only putter around in the water," Cassie assured him.

  "But you should never have gone into the pool when you couldn't swim."

  "Oh, but–"

  "I don't mind the three of you using the pool," he stressed, cutting her off. "But I must insist that you let me teach you to swim first. We'll do it this evening."

  "But I don't need–"

  "I insist, Cassie. If you want this job you'll do this." The hard edge on his voice matched the hard gaze in his eyes.

  Her mouth snapped shut. This was the employer talking, no, ordering the employee about what was expected.

  Relax, she told herself. Don't let his demands bother you. But his tone alone fanned the embers of her ire and, try as she might, she couldn't stop her irritation from bursting into flame. In an effort to douse her temper, she laced her fingers in her lap and tightened her hold until her knuckles went white.

  "We'll have a light supper," he instructed, his tone brooking no argument. "And then we'll settle the boys in front of the television. We'll cue up a nice, wholesome movie on the player, one that will keep them occupied for a while. We want the boys to view you as an authority figure, and if they see you in the position of student, it might undermine that goal. Besides, I wouldn't want you to be embarrassed if you didn't catch on right away."

  Were she not totally ticked off by the way he was dictating, she might have found Joshua's effort to save her from humiliation almost charming. Fortunately, the thought was fleeting, chased off by her annoyance.

  But she could swim. Like a damned dolphin. And now that she thought about it, the snappish manner in which he'd laid out plans for how and when he would give the idiot under his roof swimming lessons really rankled. She could feel her shoulders stiffening as her anger churned and bubbled and threatened to erupt.

  Tell him! The charged words echoed in her head. Tell him you can swim.

  But at that moment a curious calm overtook her whole being. She wouldn't tell him. She'd show him. She'd march out to the pool after dinner, execute a perfect jackknife off the diving board and perform some of her best swim strokes for him. She fought the sly grin that teased her lips as she imagined his shocked expression.

  "How does seven o'clock sound to you?" he asked, glancing at his wristwatch.

  Although it seemed as if he was asking for her input on the time for their lesson, Cassie could tell by his firm, unwavering tone that a differing opinion wouldn't be considered even if she did have the gumption to voice one.

  "Seven will be fine." The words were short, clipped to within an inch of their lives. The crafty smile pulled even harder at her mouth, but she won over it by nibbling on her bottom lip.

  She stood. "If there's nothing else, I'll go upstairs and check on the boys, and then start dinner."

  He simply nodded and she turned toward the doorway.

  As she started up the steps, she realized she was exhausted. And it was no wonder, seeing as how there had been so many dramatic twists and turns to her conversation with the professor– with Joshua, she amended. She'd felt everything from trepidation and anxiety, hope and relief, annoyance and irritation, up to and including an astonishing temptation and attraction.

  At the top of the stairway she paused and looked back toward the library, wondering how one man could make her jump through so many emotional hoops in one meeting.

  ~ ~ ~

  Five full minutes before the allotted swim lesson, Cassie walked across the grass toward the pool. She tugged on the belt of her terry robe and fought the wariness that had grown like a tenacious wild weed in the pit of her stomach. As much as she hacked at it, it refused to die.

  She knew she should be feeling very happy about having kept her job. She should be feeling relieved that she and Eric had enjoyed a hot meal with Andy and Joshua, that she and her brother had beds to sleep in tonight. But those feelings simply were nowhere to be found at the moment. She'd even lost the smugness she'd enjoyed about her plans of showing off her swimming ability to Joshua.

  A cautious apprehension had crept up on her. The feeling had slowly formed all the while she had prepared dinner, and it had solidified and hardened as the four of them had sat around the dining room table eating.

  She knew very well the source of this formidable feeling: her attraction to Joshua. She'd come to the conclusion that she must control herself. But all through dinner she kept thinking that he was so damned handsome, and how his smile made her lose her train of thought, and how that certain tone of his voice caused her to go all warm and tingly inside. These things frightened her. What if her feelings were not as manageable as she'd thought?

  During dinner she'd felt his dark, contemplative gaze on her. It was too bad she couldn't read his thoughts. She began to imagine how easily those intense eyes of his could make her stomach turn to jittery butterflies, how those fingers that grasped the crystal glass so gingerly might caress the skin of her hand... or shoulder... or thigh. These ideas had been crazy, she knew, but she couldn't stop them from bombarding her brain as she tried to focus on the food or the boys' conversation or the salt and pepper shakers or anything besides Joshua. But it had been a lost cause.

  As all four of them worked to clean up the mess, she found herself doing a sort of dance with him, sidling by to set the glasses on the counter, nearly brushing shoulders with him as they loaded the dishwasher. This game could very well lose her this job.

  Untying the belt of her robe, she let it slip down her arms, then tossed it on the nearest patio chair. She was wearing the same bathing suit she'd worn earlier this afternoon. She hoped Joshua didn't comment about it; this suit was the only one she owned. Making ends meet had been quite difficult on her previous salary. Extravagances such as an extra bathing suit were all but unheard of.

  She slid her fingers across her rib cage in an effort to ease the disquiet thudding there. It didn't matter what his reaction was to her swimming attire, or to her, for that matter. She had to be vigilant over her own reaction to him. Any interest in him that reared its unruly head must be walloped at the very start. Any nuance of attraction must be squashed dead.

  For one thing, Joshua was her employer. She couldn't jeopardize this job because of some silly allure she felt for him. For another, she didn't want to be hurt.

  Joshua was a cultured and learned man. He'd never find a bit of enticement in the likes of her– a high school dropout. A man like him would find the very idea of her uneducated state contemptible.

  Her head dipped in habitual self-recrimination and she swallowed nervously. She never wanted Professor Joshua Kingston to know the truth. Never.

  "So, are you ready?"

  Cassie inadvertently jumped at the sound of Joshua's voice. She hadn't heard him come outside.

  "I didn't mean to startle you," he said. "You must have been in deep thought."

  "You could say that." She gave a slight shrug, hoping he wouldn't guess that she'd been thinking about him.

  There was a moment of tense, staring silence. Then he dropped his towel across the foot of the white chaise lounge.

  "Are the boys all set?" he asked.

  She was relieved when he didn't press her to elaborate on the subject of her thoughts.

  "Yes," she told him. "They're watching The Adventures of Robin Hood. Eric's pretty excited. He's never seen it."

  "Eric's never seen Robin Hood?" His eyebrows inched high.

  Cassie stood utterly still as she searched his face. Had there been an inflection of critical recrimination in his question? Did he think her a horrible person because her brother hadn't been exposed to the classic movi
e?

  Drawing herself straight and tipping up her chin, she informed him, "I borrowed the book from the library and we read it together."

  There was a clear defensiveness in her tone, but she thought it rude of him to criticize how she chose to raise her brother, and she wanted him to know it.

  "I wasn't finding fault." He stepped closer. "I think it's great that you monitor Eric's television time."

  Looking into his apologetic gaze, Cassie felt a deep sense of regret wash over her.

  "It's not that I monitor what Eric watches on TV," she said. "You see, my mother had no life insurance. When she died, I had just started a new job and wasn't making enough in salary to bury her decently. So I did the only thing left to me– I sold off some household items."

  She glanced off toward the horizon, embarrassed by what she was revealing about herself, about her and Eric's past.

  "My mother inherited some nice silver serving pieces, some china and a beautiful antique cherry writing desk. But I still needed more money." She gave a self-conscious chuckle. "It came down to selling the television or the washing machine." His dark, unblinking eyes drew her gaze as she finished her simple matter-of-fact rationalization with a shrug and, "I needed the washing machine."

  Long, awkward seconds ticked by– seconds during which Cassie had to fight the urge to squirm. She hated the thought of his knowing just how poor she'd been. And he evidently noticed her discomfort because he took another step closer and reached out to touch her shoulder.

  "Cassie," he said, his voice low and murmurous. "It sounds as though you tried to do the right thing– for your mother and your brother. You have no reason to give an explanation, or an apology. I wasn't asking for either."

  His outstretched fingers exerted a gentle pressure on her shoulder that she was certain was meant to reassure. But his skin was silky against hers, and his touch brought back vivid images of her nearly naughty thoughts at the dinner table– thoughts that were once again coming back to haunt her. She concentrated hard on pushing them from her mind.

 

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