by Olivia Logan
“All right, how about I teach you?” More for safety than anything else, she figured, especially if he was determined to get down to the other end.
“Okay, so we start with a normal crawl,” she told him, pushing off from the edge and swimming till she reached deeper water. “Then you tread water like this,” she sputtered, trying hard not to swallow the chlorine-treated water as it splashed into her mouth, before deftly twisting onto her front and swimming back to the side, “Tell you what, I’ll swim with you to the end. That way if you get tired, I can pull you back. Okay?”
Seeing his nod, she waited for him to push off before following after, slowing her pace to match his. He slowed as they reached the end, his face getting redder and redder as they reached the other side. Swimming a little ahead, she grabbed hold of the railing, reaching out a hand to pull him in.
“Yay! Well done, Theo!” she exclaimed, pulling him in for a quick hug.
“Yeah, well done, kiddo!” She froze, looking up slowly.
Nick stood near the end of the pool, watching them. The early evening sun highlighted his hair and made him seem for all purposes, a living, breathing Adonis.
“Dad! Did you see me? I swam all the way from the other side!” Theo shouted excitedly at the tall figure.
“I sure did.” Nick said, kneeling down beside him.
Plastering herself against the side, she wondered what else he had seen. Hell, if she were being honest with herself, the worry was how much of her in a swimsuit he had seen! She watched as he pulled Theo out and wrapped a towel around him.
Pulling herself toward the stairs, she stopped as a hand came down in front of her face. “Need a lift?” His voice was smooth and husky.
Despite the heat, she could feel the goose pimples rise on her arms as he took her hand. In one fluid motion, he pulled her out of the water as if she were as light as a feather. Which, she knew for sure, she was not.
Ducking her head so she wouldn’t have to look at him, she made a beeline for her sarong, wrapping it tightly around her and trying to ignore the fact that it stuck to her like a second skin. At least it was another layer.
“How come you’re back so early?” Theo asked, making his way toward the doors.
That was a good question. Why couldn’t he have come back when she was asleep? Not in a bathing suit.
“It’s Valentine’s Day and everyone wanted to get home so we finished a little earlier than expected,” he explained, following his son into the kitchen with Rania trailing behind, hoping against hope that at the first opportunity she could escape upstairs.
She was not prepared for the mounds of food when she entered the kitchen, nor the sheepish expression on Nick’s face when he saw she had spotted it.
“So I was thinking … how about I make us all dinner tonight?”
Speechless again. Really, this was becoming as bad a habit as sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong.
“Cool,” Theo piped up, reaching for a cupcake from a brown bag.
“Bath first mister, then chocolate,” came the firm admonishment ruined by the twinkling eyes.
“Oh, okay!” he said, scurrying off without even so much as a backward glance.
“I should, ummm … ” She stammered, fingers pointing to the staircase Theo had just exited up.
“Yeah, sure.” He seemed distracted, his eyes and hands busy taking out the various food things. And the champagne. Rania felt frozen to the spot, eyes glued to the bottle in his hand. He looked up at her and she could swear she could see a tinge of pink lighting his cheeks. “Well since it’s Valentine’s Day and all … ” His voice trailed off as his gaze dropped to the bottle.
“Yeah, of course. Probably a Valentine’s Day special reduction sort of thing,” she laughed, the sound coming out more Wicked Witch of the West than the tinkling laugh of the Good Witch of the North. Just perfect; now she sounded like a witch and not even the nice one.
Turning, she fled up the stairs, finally able to breathe normally as she hit the safety of her bedroom.
Chapter 5
She’d never remembered showering or dressing so quickly in her life. Or worrying about what to wear. Her relationship with Ben hadn’t actually seen a Valentine’s Day so she’d never had to worry. She’d been convinced she hadn’t inherited that girlie-girl gene from her mother who used to make a point of dressing up to the nines on every occasion.
Thinking about Ben reminded her that he’d never bought her champagne before. Nor was he over six feet tall and had the body of someone straight from her fantasies. As she corralled her straying thoughts, she corrected herself. Nick hadn’t bought her champagne. He’d bought champagne, probably because it was discounted and he didn’t want to drink alone. She had never been the sort of girl to inspire the champagne-drinking, flower-buying sort of behavior. And she never wanted to be that kind of girl, either, she thought, frowning at herself in the mirror. Especially not with a director from Hollywood.
The girl in the mirror frowned back, although Rania was unsure whether she was agreeing with her or frowning at her new V-necked sleeveless red dress. The “just above the knee” hemline meant it was modest enough for dinner and she knew the color suited her. Adjusting her dress, she grabbed her tan pumps as her gaze drifted to a pair of black jeweled flip-flops. Dropping the pumps, she slid her feet into the flip-flops, glad she’d done her mani-pedi during one of Theo’s nap times. Letting her hair dry loosely she took a deep breath as she descended the stairs. She felt her heart thump with each step. If she had been the fanciful kind — which she was not — she would have pretended she really was Belle from Beauty and the Beast.
Her breath hitched in her throat as he came out of the kitchen. Boss or no boss, it should be illegal to be cooking and still look that good. Not a sign of any splatter was on the crisp white shirt. In fact, the only sign he’d been anywhere near the kitchen was the two bubbling champagne flutes he held.
Glancing up she could see his gaze roam over her and she gripped the banister tighter as she made her way down the remaining stairs. The flats put her at the same disadvantage as when she first met him in the shop, her head only reaching his chest and she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. She couldn’t tell if the stunned expression in his eyes was a good or a bad thing and she barely resisted the urge to run back upstairs and throw on her old little black dress.
“Is one of those for me?” She asked, pointing at the glasses he held. She could do with some liquid courage right about now.
“What … Yes, of course.” He handed her the glass, their fingers brushing in the exchange and she jerked her hand back quickly, the imprint of his touch still tingling.
Sipping slowly, she felt the bubbles tickle the back of her throat. She’d have to be careful with this stuff. She’d never been much of a drinker and now was probably not the time to start. After all, it wasn’t like they’d be alone. Theo was going to be there. Just a family dinner. No, scrap that; just a dinner with father and son spending time together, with the nanny along for company.
“Smells amazing,” she said, following him to the kitchen where various smells wafted through the air. The large table, where she had been standing a short time ago was now laden with three plates, cutlery, glasses, and a single red rose.
She felt frozen to the spot, her eyes flicking nervously back and forth between the rose and her champagne flute. A rose too!
He caught her stare and his lips curved up understandingly. “The rose was Theo’s idea. He Googled ‘what happens on Valentine’s Day’, and then ran out to the rose bush before I could stop him.”
“Awww. That’s very sweet. And a nice touch,” she said, making her way across to stroke the velvety petals as she sipped the champagne.
She turned at the sound of glass chinking against the granite countertop and saw him attempting to lift a ste
aming dish out of the oven. The intoxicating lemony herb smell of some sort of fish dish made her mouth water and she remembered that, despite insisting Theo eat, she hadn’t eaten any lunch.
“Can I help with anything?” she asked, placing her own glass down and moving forward.
“Damn this is hot!” He swore under his breath as he pulled his now-red hand away from the metal tray on the stovetop, dropping the thin towel beside the open oven door.
“That needs cold water or it will blister,” she warned, grabbing his hand and shoving it under the cold water faucet before turning it on full blast. The powerful spray hit his hand and bounced back up, spraying them both. Shrieking with shock, she jumped back, careening into him as he maneuvered himself side ways to turn it off.
Looking down at her dress, she could either laugh or cry. The once tomato red was now soaked through to a dark maroon. He was wiping the water off his arms and catching sight of her dress grabbed a towel, dabbing it at her chest and down her stomach. The sight of the pointless display of gallantry with a small hand towel was too much and clutching at her sides, she laughed aloud, feeling the tears roll down her face. Before she knew it, Nick was laughing too, holding onto the kitchen counter for support as he doubled over.
“What happened?!”
Rania straightened up as Theo came in, eyes wide at the open oven door, sopping wet floor and his father and nanny, both soaking wet.
“Just a little accident Theo, nothing to worry about. Dinner will be ready soon.” Nick said, grabbing at another towel and calmly mopping himself up. Despite his best attempt to remain calm, Rania could see he was anything but as he kept puckering his lips, trying hard not to laugh.
Grabbing a pair of oven gloves from a nearby drawer, she marched past him to the oven, hauling the roast potatoes out and sliding them next to the fish. “Dinner’s ready,” she called, looking across at father and son, paper towels in hand, doing their very best to mop up the floor.
Theo stood up first, coming to stand next to her, leaning down to smell the food. “What is it?” he asked as his nose scrunched up at the smell.
“That, my son, is monkfish with lemon and tarragon. Served with new potatoes and green beans.” She shivered as Nick came to stand behind her, his breath warm on the back of her shoulders.
“You made this yourself? From scratch?” The disbelief must have been evident in her voice as she felt him chuckle behind her, the sound close to her ear and doing nothing to maintain her equilibrium.
“Hard to believe anyone can be this good-looking and talented, too, eh?”
“Mmmm, something like that,” she murmured, not trusting her voice to give her emotions away and make her sound like Alvin and the Chipmunks.
She felt a slight movement at her elbow and looked down to find Theo had leaned against her. She made the mistake of looking up at the glass doors and bit back a cry at her reflection. Theo nestled happily against her arm, and Nick standing strong behind her. The perfect family.
Catching Nick’s gaze in the glass she quickly lowered her eyes and clearing her throat made a grab for the spatula. “So who’s hungry?” Her voice overly bright as she tried to distance herself from the happy picture where she had no right to belong. As Theo made his way around to the table, she stepped back and collided straight against Nick’s chest. She stopped, every fiber of her being suddenly on high alert at the warm hard body behind her.
Neither of them moved and she could hear his intake of breath close to her ear. After a few seconds, he stepped away, leaving her feeling oddly cold and alone. Shake it off, Rania, she told herself firmly. She was used to being alone and taking care of herself. She wasn’t intending to forget that just because a handsome man was around. A handsome man that was beyond the point of off-limits.
“Do you want to go and get changed? We can hold dinner for you?” The forced politeness more depressing than if he just ignored her.
Looking down at the still sopping wet material, she could see he had a point.
“No, you two go ahead. Theo must be starving. I’ll be back in a second.” Taking the steps two at a time, she rushed into her room, leaning heavily against the door. Gathering herself up, she approached the large mirror. The girl reflected in it stared back; it didn’t seem to be the same girl she had seen earlier. This one was sad, not excited; her golden eyes darkened to hazel as she frowned.
Blinking back the image, Rania straightened up. Enough of this, she told herself firmly. Stepping out of the sopping wet dress, she grabbed her one “go-to” outfit. It was several years old but still fit like a dream, and the royal blue tunic accentuated her golden LA tan. Slicking on some pink lip gloss, she made her way out the door, turning briefly to toss a saucy wink at the girl in the mirror.
Flying down the stairs, she saw them tucking into the meal. All traces of the kitchen disaster had been erased.
Pasting a smile on her face, she slid into her designated spot. “This looks delicious, Nick. Thank you.” She picked up her half-full champagne glass and offered a quick toast: “To Hollywood!” Rania was pleased to see both Nick and Theo join in, as Theo downed his drink in seconds and passed her his cup for an OJ refill.
The food really was delicious and she was more than happy to eat in silence for a few minutes.
“Wait till you see dessert!” Theo’s small face flushed with pleasure as he took over hosting duties. Nick laughed as he watch his son whip around the table at lightning speed, gathering up plates and cutlery as he went, returning very quickly with smaller plates and spoons.
Rummaging through the big fridge, he returned to the table, eyes shining as he put the chocolate cheesecake down in front of them. Closer to him than the grown-ups, Rania noticed with a smile.
“Theo, how about if I do the honors for this one?” Nick asked, grabbing a knife and cutting them each a slice. The chocolate melted on her tongue, the smooth creamy texture making her reach for another bite almost instantly. Before she knew it she’d eaten her serving, resisting the urge to lick her spoon as well, she put it down glad she wasn’t on a perpetual diet, happy with her curvy form.
“How about a game on the X-box?” Theo said, jumping out of his chair.
“How about bed, little man?” The firm suggestion was softened by the tired smile on his father’s face.
“All right.” The long drawn-out sigh coupled with the sad puppy dog eyes fooled no one. After targeting both adults and seeing he was getting nowhere, he grinned mischievously. “Night, Dad; night, Belle.” Theo walked around the table to give his dad a hug, and then surprised Rania by giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“Do you want me to come and read you a story or anything, Theo?” she called after him, hearing his faint “No, thanks,” as he ran up the stairs.
Standing up, she reached for her plate just as Nick stood up and reached for it as well. Dropping the plate as if it had burned her, she grabbed the cheesecake and stowed it in the fridge while keeping her back to him.
“Well, guess I’ll get an early night too, then,” she said, closing the door and turning around to find him watching her. His eyes searched her face.
“Are you sure? There’s still some champagne left if you’re interested.”
She felt like stamping her foot in frustration at him for making it so easy to like him. The problem wasn’t that she was uninterested; the problem was she was too interested.
Okay, so she hadn’t had much to drink, in fact she had barely had one glass so having another wouldn’t mean her becoming drunk. What was the etiquette for things like this anyway? Her mind was screaming at her to go back upstairs. He was her boss. He was a director. He was everything she had deliberately stayed away from. And yet every fiber in her body was urging her to stay. Yes, he was her boss but he had also gone out of his way to make dinner for her.
Nope, back up. Them. He’d
made dinner for them. And she had a sneaky suspicion that he was the one who had stepped in on her behalf with the Fox’s Chocs’ disaster. It was something she wanted to ask and yet, if he hadn’t intervened, how much of a fool would she look to think he thought that highly of her and her business that he would help her?
He stood in front of her, two glasses swinging in his hand. The white shirt was still damp from earlier and crumpled from the constant movement. Her throat felt suddenly dry at the sight and not trusting her voice, she moved toward him, nodding as she put her hand out.
The smile he threw at her wasn’t the lurid leer she had imagined a man would wear in this situation; in fact, it was the total opposite. It was reassuring, as if he knew she was worried. He poured the champagne, one hand holding the bottle, the other hand cradling the glasses. His movements were steady despite the weight and she found her attention pulled again to his wrist. She’d never been drawn to anything before and once she found herself looking, couldn’t look away.
Jarring herself out of her daze, she looked up as he shook her glass lightly in front of her, the delicate bubbles hitting the surface and popping with each movement.
“What are we going to toast to?” She licked her bottom lip as the words came out less confidently then she would have liked.
“How about to your first Valentine’s Day in Hollywood?” he ventured, his eyes holding hers over the rim of their glasses.
“Sounds good to me,” she said, raising her glass and tipping it to his before taking a small sip. “But what about you?”
His mouth tilted up as if remembering a private joke, “How about … to the first nanny my son has had that he hasn’t given the slip?”
“I’ll drink to that,” she said cheerfully, feeling the bubbles pop against her lips as she took another sip. “Thanks for dinner, by the way. I meant what I said earlier; it really was delicious.”
“You sound surprised,” he said, frowning at her over the glass. Oh great, now she’d offended him.
