The Nanny's Plan

by Donna Clayton

  “It’s not that I can’t—” Again her tongue darted across her lips, nerve impulses kicking in and forcing her to swallow. “It’s that…I don’t want to.”

  “Do you have to go off without us today?” Benjamin voiced the question in a plaintive whine.

  Ruffling his hair, Amy grinned. “It’s my day off. Everyone deserves a day off, don’t they? I’m going to go to the store. I’ll look for a new dress. Maybe a pair of nice pants. Some high heels. Stockings. Who knows what I might end up with? You wouldn’t be interested in shopping with me.”

  The boy’s whole face lit like a hundred-watt bulb. “I would if you were shopping at a toy store.”

  Having offered to feed the twins and get them ready for the day, Amy now waited on the patio for Pierce, who was showering. She was actually looking forward to exploring some of the women’s apparel shops in town.

  She laughed at Benjamin’s comment. “Well, there’s not a single toy store on my list of places to visit today.”

  “Oh.” True disappointment clouded his gaze.

  “But just think,” she quickly added in an attempt to lift his spirits, “you and your brother get to spend the whole day with your uncle Pierce. That should be fun.”

  He agreed with her, then ran out into the yard to join Jeremiah.

  Amy flipped through a beauty magazine, studying the pictures of the gorgeous models and the how-to articles she had taken to turning to for makeup and wardrobe suggestions.

  She didn’t really need this day away from the twins. Yes, the boys had required every ounce of her attention this past week, but she’d enjoyed it more than she’d expected to. Six-year-old boys were prone to say just about anything that was on their minds, and Amy had found herself laughing at their antics more often than not. Taking the boys with her for a day of shopping wouldn’t have been something she’d have objected to. But Pierce would have opposed it. He’d told her she was due a day off, and he was adamant that she take it.

  A model smiled at her from a full-page advertisement for a new summery shade of lip gloss that caught Amy’s eye. The woman’s hair and skin color were a close match to Amy’s, and she made a mental note to purchase a tube of the shimmery lipstick.

  When she’d been accepted into the flight attendant training course, she’d been ecstatic. All she’d ever wanted to do was see the world. During her weeks of instruction sessions, she’d learned all about the different models of airplanes, how to treat her customers and what to do during an emergency. She’d also learned how important demeanor was, how essential outside appearance was when the intent was to look professional. She’d learned that the body spoke an entire language all its own.

  A woman whose spine was straight, whose shoulders were square, whose gaze was level and steady not only appeared self-assured, competent and worthy of respect, she was most often treated that way, as well. The attitude one projected was…well, it meant the difference between success and failure. The difference between being taken seriously and being dismissed out of hand.

  Having been raised by her father, Amy had grown up working hard alongside him to make their small motel business a success. She’d never had the opportunity to play dress-up like other young girls. When your life consisted of changing bed linens, scrubbing toilets and bathtubs, dusting and vacuuming, keeping the accounts, greeting customers and seeing to their needs, looking attractive never really entered your head. There was no need for makeup or pretty clothes or smart hairstyles when there were what seemed a thousand chores needing to be done each and every day.

  But Amy’s training instructor had changed her thinking completely. A dab or two of mascara, a swipe of eyeliner, a flick of blush, a smear of lipstick—those things got a girl noticed. She’d never forget when this revelation had struck her full force.

  The other young women in the training class had seemed to understand that liquid foundation smoothed the color of a woman’s skin, that it needed to be set with loose facial power and that contour powder could be used to give the illusion of a narrow nose or higher cheekbones. Amy, on the other hand, had been ignorant of all these things.

  Oh, there were plenty of things she did know. But knowing how to keep credit card and cash receipts organized and tallied for the IRS, or how to remove all sorts of stains from white cotton sheets and carpeting wasn’t the kind of knowledge that an airline flight attendant needed.

  So Mary Beth, her instructor, had taken her aside for some private sessions in the application of makeup, hairstyling and fashion. Those lessons had changed Amy’s life…changed her whole outlook on herself.

  She had been astounded by what a little tweezing and shaping, what a little tinted powder and gloss could do for a woman’s face. Amy had actually felt pretty as she’d stared into the mirror.

  She smiled even now as she thought about the reaction of an extraordinarily handsome man she’d met after one particular session. Mary Beth’s brother had come to the center to visit his sister, and as Amy had left the room…he’d stared. He’d called after her. And then he had thrilled the daylights out of her by asking her out for coffee.

  Of course, Amy had declined the invitation. Going out with anyone would have been counterproductive when she was on the brink of having everything she’d ever wanted—travel and excitement, some real life experiences! But that moment had forever changed Amy’s opinion of who she was. Or rather, how she wanted to project herself.

  She didn’t have to be a homely nobody barely worth noticing. She might be uneducated, in the formal sense of the word. She might even be downright unrefined. But she could make herself look just as sophisticated as any other young woman walking down the street of Lebo, Kansas, or Glory, Delaware, or Paris, France, for that matter.

  Pierce had noticed.

  Boy, had he ever.

  Amy had felt attracted to Pierce from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him. The man was gorgeous, with his thick black hair and those dreamy green eyes. She’d have had to be dead not to be stirred by his smile.

  However, she’d never imagined that attraction might be reciprocated. She’d been so sure that controlling her own feelings was all that she needed to do.

  Apparently she’d been wrong.

  When she and Pierce had been standing in the kitchen the night before last, something amazingly potent had wrapped itself around the two of them.

  She hadn’t really noticed it at first. From their conversation, she’d realized that he was devoted to his mother. His affection for her had shone in his gaze when he’d spoken of her. But when Pierce had mentioned his father, Amy had become acutely aware of some darker emotion. Almost a bitterness. He had quickly moved on to other topics, but Amy couldn’t deny she’d been curious about what might have caused friction between Pierce and his father.

  Soon, though, Amy had become cognizant of a humming energy in the air. It had taken a moment or two, but she’d identified the electricity as allure. Never in her wildest imaginings had she thought that Pierce might be in tune with the current that zipped and twanged between them. Yet he had.

  His green eyes had darkened with obvious acknowledgment. His entire countenance had gone intense, almost pensive, as silence had struck them both.

  When he’d reached out and touched her face, she’d thought she was going to faint dead away. Her mind had turned into an empty void. Words and thoughts had completely failed her. But her heart had revved alarmingly and her body had heated…like the engine of some fancy race car.

  Luckily, reason had cleared the fog in her brain and she’d been able to calmly tell him the truth. She was not interested in exploring the passion that thickened the air.

  “Amy?”

  She started, realizing from the boy’s tone that Jeremiah must have spoken her name more than once in order to capture her attention.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Amy nodded.

  “Whatcha doin’?”

  Unwilling to admit that she was daydreaming about the child
’s uncle, she swiftly came up with a story. “I’m just looking at the pretty ladies in my magazine here.”

  The boy came closer and stared down at the model with the summery-tinted lips.

  “You’re way prettier than she is.”

  Amy’s heart warmed. “What a nice thing for you to say.”

  “This is for you,” he said. He held out a yellow dandelion.

  She accepted the flower with a smile of thanks. “It’s lovely. You’re such a sweetheart.”

  “I’m going to miss you today.”

  “I’m going to miss you, too.”

  Benjamin called his brother to come look at a small hill of ants, and Jeremiah raced away. She watched the twins, realizing all over again that she’d had a great deal of fun with them this past week.

  Amy’s gaze wandered to the magazine that lay in her lap.

  You’re way prettier than she is.

  Jeremiah’s words floated through her mind. Amy wasn’t stupid enough to take the child’s biased opinion as fact. But his innocent statement did start her thinking.

  The very things she’d been clinging to in order to come off looking confident and competent—her physical appearance, her veneer of poise, her attitude of self-assurance—were quickly becoming a precious bane. She enjoyed wearing the persona, no matter how fake it might be. Her mask made her feel good about herself. However, the very thing she’d decided she needed in order to command respect was now leading her straight into trouble.

  She didn’t want Pierce to be attracted to her.

  No matter how much of an enticement he was for her, she knew she could control her own emotions. All her hopes and dreams hinged on her doing just that. But she seriously doubted she could control a man like Pierce.

  The magnetism that had plucked at them in the kitchen the other night could really turn into quite a problem. She didn’t want to get involved in any kind of relationship that might become messy or entangling. She had too many plans to let something like that happen.

  Besides that, this front she’d been presenting wasn’t the real her. It was merely a guise taught to her as a way of looking professional.

  Amy looked off across the bay, the blue water calming her anxious spirit.

  Maybe what she needed to do was forgo the pretty part of the persona she’d created in order to become more noticeable. Maybe what she should do was slip back into that plain, unadorned Amy. Pierce wouldn’t find her the least bit attractive.

  She wasn’t willing to let go of her new attitude, though. She liked looking and feeling confident. However, she was willing to brush her hair into a plainer style, scrub her face free of blush, foundation and eye shadow. No way would Pierce find her the lease bit alluring then.

  The urge to chuckle rose in her throat. Most women hankered after a transformation that would make them more beautiful. She certainly had. But here she was contemplating a reverse makeover, an alteration meant to make her less appealing to the opposite sex—less appealing to Pierce.

  “What has you grinning this morning?”

  Amy looked up to see that Pierce had stepped out into the sunshine. The very sight of him in his white polo shirt and olive shorts made her feel things she knew she shouldn’t. She did what she could to squelch the inappropriate impulses.

  “Oh, nothing, really,” she intoned as lightly as she could. “Just thinking about what I’m going to do today.”

  His green eyes glistened. She’d have liked to think it was just the morning sunlight that caused the glitter, but she highly suspected it was interest. In her.

  He came close enough so that she could smell his cologne. His face was just-shaved smooth. Why did he have to be so darned handsome?

  “I know,” he said, “that I stressed how important I feel it is for you to get away from the boys on your day off, but…”

  Amy’s heart tripped a beat as she wondered what he had on his mind.

  “I thought the four of us could do something special—” he paused long enough to moisten his lips “—together.”

  The suggestion surprised her. She stood up so quickly that the fashion magazine slipped from her lap and fell to the patio. She reached down and scooped it up, held it to her chest as if it were some sort of shield.

  “I can’t,” she blurted. “I—I planned to go shopping.”

  Pierce looked as disappointed as young Benjamin had just a moment or two ago when he discovered he wouldn’t be going along with her today.

  “I—I’m sorry…” she began.

  “No,” he rushed to say. “That’s quite all right. It’s your day off. You should do whatever you like with it.”

  “Thanks.” She edged toward the door of the house. “I’ll be back around dinnertime.” Amy called a quick goodbye to the twins.

  She did have some shopping to do, she suddenly decided. But she wouldn’t be buying any shimmering lip gloss or tailored trousers. The items she needed wouldn’t be found in any exclusive women’s boutiques, either. A run-of-the-mill department store would have everything she required, she was certain.

  Chapter Four

  The waning afternoon had turned stifling and muggy. Pierce had suggested a dip in the bay, and the sweaty boys happily agreed.

  Every so often he’d remember how surprised he’d been when he’d so unexpectedly blurted out the suggestion to Amy that the four of them do something special together. After having spent the entire week in the company of the twins, Amy needed some time away from them. He’d known that. Had even stressed that opinion to her. But then he’d gone out onto the deck this morning and had invited her to spend the day with them.

  He’d been amazed at his own actions.

  Luckily Amy had reined in his rashness by announcing she had plans.

  This day had turned out to be just great. He’d played ball in the yard with the boys for most of the morning. They’d had peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches for lunch. He’d shown them all around his lab. He grinned as he remembered how unimpressed they’d been with the seedlings that were taking up so much of his time. And now the three of them were splashing around in the blue-green water.

  Amy’s observation that Benjamin and Jeremiah couldn’t swim had worried Pierce. The unseasonably warm weather presented a great opportunity to get his nephews into the cool bay to judge how much swimming skill they did or didn’t possess.

  Pierce quickly discerned that Amy had been correct. Both children were fearful of even putting their faces into the water, and neither was comfortable with venturing farther than knee-deep into the bay.

  After an hour of clowning around and playing keep-away with a spongy rubber ball, Pierce asked the boys if they’d like to learn to swim.

  Jeremiah, the more adventuresome of the two, replied that he really wanted to learn. Benjamin, on the other hand, grew quiet as a fearful shadow clouded his dark eyes.

  Turning to his brother, Jeremiah said, “It’s okay, Benjamin. Don’t be afraid.”

  Benjamin’s chin jutted forward with obvious affront. “I’m not ascared of anything.”

  “That’s good.” Pierce kept his tone calm in order to keep the conversation from flaring into an argument. “But you both should know that you can’t learn to swim in one lesson. First you need some basics. You need to get used to getting your faces wet. You need to practice holding your breath and going under the water. You’ll need to become more comfortable in the water.”

  The lessons went much more smoothly, he learned, when he turned each task into a game. They blew bubbles and ended up laughing at each other. They remained close to shore and took turns sitting on the sandy bottom so that the water came up over their shoulders. Finally he got them comfortable enough to dunk under the water. They both came up sputtering, but gleeful and proud that they had completed the challenge.

  Pierce showed them the “dead man’s float,” the gory name alone igniting an overwhelming urge in both boys to try floating facedown in the water as if they had “croaked,” as the twins d
escribed it. However, it took the twins quite a while to trust the fact that they could float on their backs almost as easily as they could float on their faces.

  With one hand planted firmly between Benjamin’s shoulder blades, Pierce coaxed the child to try lifting his feet from the bottom one more time.

  “I’ll sink,” the boy said.

  Hearing the trepidation in Benjamin’s voice, Pierce promised, “I won’t let that happen. Trust me.”

  His nephew’s gaze locked on his, and Pierce felt Benjamin’s body relax. His toes peeked above the surface of the water.

  “It’s okay,” Pierce assured him. “I’ve got you.” When it seemed that the child was ready, he asked, “You want to try it on your own?”

  “Yeah.” Benjamin’s answer was a mere whisper.

  Pierce eased his hand from his nephew’s back, but remained right by his side. Then he lifted both hands above the surface so that his nephew could see them. Benjamin’s mouth broke into a grin.

  “I’m doing it. I’m floating.”

  The clapping and cheering coming from shore drew the eyes of everyone.

  “Woo-hoo!” Amy jumped up and down with glee. “You did it!”

  Her shiny brown hair swung loose about her shoulders, the sunlight catching bronzed highlights. It was the first time Pierce had seen Amy’s hair when it wasn’t styled and sprayed to perfection. His gaze was riveted on those free-flowing tresses.

  “Did you see me, Amy?” Benjamin called once he’d planted his feet on the bay bottom once again. “Did you see me floating?”

  “I did. And you were doing a great job out there.”

  Refusing to take a back seat to his brother, Jeremiah called, “Amy, watch what I can do.” He held his breath, his cheeks puffing like a blowfish, and slipped beneath the water with a small splash. Immediately he popped up, and Amy applauded for him, too.

  “Way to go!”

  Pierce couldn’t take his eyes from her. She’d…changed.