by Leanne Banks
Gail didn’t even own one. Dress at her former job had been casual, and she sure as heck didn’t need a black dress on the volleyball court. Brushing aside her discomfort, she tried to project a confidence she didn’t feel.
A woman wearing a black dress and pearls approached Nicholas and extended her hand. “Nicholas, we’re so delighted you’ve come. Bill always says a party’s not a party if the Barones aren’t represented. And your date,” she said, looking at Gail. “I thought Corinne was joining us.”
“Corinne is sick and Gail was kind enough to join me at the last minute,” Nicholas smoothly interjected. “Gail Fenton, this is Jo-Ann Forwood.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Your home is lovely,” Gail said.
“Thank you. Are you a colleague of Nicholas’s?” Jo-Ann asked, her gaze curious.
“Oh, I just started—”
“Gail is a close family friend,” Nicholas interjected again. “Did I hear you say you were thirsty?” he asked Gail.
Uh, no, she thought, wondering why he didn’t want Jo-Ann to know she was his daughter’s nanny.
“We must get you something to drink,” Jo-Ann said. “What would you like?”
Gail drew a blank. She’d been surrounded by milk, baby food and apple juice. She felt Nicholas’s gaze on her.
“White wine,” he said.
“Beer,” Gail said at the same time.
Jo-Ann’s eyes widened. “Beer,” she echoed, then recovered her poise. “And what may we get for you, Nicholas?”
“Scotch, neat,” he said.
“Very good. Excuse me while I tell the bartender,” she said, and glided away.
Gail immediately turned to Nicholas. “Why didn’t you want to tell her I was your daughter’s nanny?”
“Because it’s none of her business,” he said, irritation bleeding into his tone.
“Are you sure it’s not because you’re embarrassed that you’re here with a nanny?”
His jaw tightened and anger flashed in his eyes. “I can do what I damn well—” He took a deep breath. “Later,” he muttered. “The mayor’s coming.”
Over the next thirty minutes Gail met six people. They all asked about Corinne, and Gail quickly grew weary of the dubious expressions on their faces as they looked at her. She was clearly a fish out of water. To be brutally honest, she didn’t want to be in the water, except that for some strange reason she’d wanted to please Nicholas. The party wore on and Gail became separated from Nicholas. One beautiful woman after another vied for his attention.
Mentally waving the white flag, Gail nursed another beer and wandered into a connecting room. An elderly woman sat next to roaring fire. “Nice fire,” Gail said, then politely introduced herself.
The woman smiled. “I’m Delores Forwood. Bill’s my son.”
“You must be very proud of him.”
“Depends on the day,” Delores replied. “He’s a political blowhard who’s going to get too big for his britches if he’s not careful.” Her tone was feisty.
Gail’s lips twitched at Delores’s bluntness. “Something tells me you try to keep him in line.”
“I try, and sometimes I do, since the key to his inheritance is me. That beer looks good,” she said, gazing longingly at the tall glass Gail held.
“Would you like me to get one for you?”
“Yes, but just make sure Jo-Ann doesn’t see you. She’ll have a conniption fit. Who are you here with?”
“Nicholas Barone,” Gail said, and paused a second. “His date is sick and he needed a quick replacement. I’m his daughter’s nanny.”
“Nicholas Barone,” the woman murmured. “He’s a gorgeous man. Smart, too,” she said. “Probably bored as hell. You’re not his usual type.”
“I got that impression,” Gail said wryly.
“Maybe his taste is improving,” the old woman said slyly.
Gail laughed. “Oh, I’m glad I found you. Let me get your beer,” she said, and brought a tall, cold glass to the mayor’s mother.
Gail enjoyed her conversation with the woman so much that thirty minutes passed before a shadow fell over her.
“I couldn’t find you,” Nicholas said as he stepped next to her.
Gail glanced at the clock on the mantel. “I guess I lost track of the time. Have you met Delores Forwood?”
“I have,” he said, and smiled at the woman. “I should have known Gail would find the most interesting person at the party to talk with.”
Delores smiled with pleasure. “You Italians are full of flattery. You’re worse than the Irish.”
“I won’t take that as an insult since I know your husband was Irish.”
“So he was. I enjoyed my visit with your daughter’s nanny. If it means I get to chat with Gail, I hope all your future dates get sick.”
Nicholas stared at Delores in surprise for a beat, then roared with laughter. “You’re a breath of fresh air.”
“Especially after spending an hour in that room. You need a backhoe to get through all that brown stuff, if you know what I mean.”
Nicholas chuckled again. “It’s a pleasure seeing you again, Delores, but we need to be going.”
Delores patted Gail’s hand. “Visit again. Anytime.”
“Thank you. I will,” Gail said. “Thanks for the chat.”
“Thank you for the company. Good night, you two.”
Nicholas led Gail away from the party after they thanked the host and hostess. As soon as he put the car in gear, he glanced at her. “You disappeared.”
“Not really,” she said. “You were busy.”
He frowned. “I’m not accustomed to having to go searching for my date.”
“Oh, well, I wasn’t really a date.”
He slowed at a stoplight and turned to look at her. “Then what were you?”
“Your daughter’s nanny operating as a last-minute substitute whom you didn’t have to entertain for an engagement you didn’t want to attend,” she said, and told her ego not to feel pinched. It was the truth and she should be totally okay with it.
“But I’m still responsible for you having an enjoyable time,” he said.
“Not really,” she said. “That’s gentlemanly of you, but not necessary in this situation. I think you’re used to women pretty much planting themselves by your side. It’s probably a territorial thing. But I don’t feel that way about you.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “You don’t feel that way about me.”
“Of course not,” she insisted. “And if I did, I’d be in big trouble because there was a bunch of beautiful women elbowing their way next to you.”
“I had thought that having you with me would prevent that,” he said.
Gail gaped at him. He was serious. Amusement bubbled up from her throat and she laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nicholas, if you were looking for a woman to intimidate all your wannabe girlfriends, you picked the wrong girl. I don’t look the role. I didn’t even have on the right uniform.” She nodded. “Light turned green.”
He returned his focus to the road and moved forward. “Right uniform?” he echoed.
“Little black dress. I don’t own one. I’m a great nanny, a great friend. But I’m no female barracuda and I never will be.”
“I guess you’re not,” he said, but something in his expression indicated that wasn’t bad. “How did you find Delores Forwood? They usually try to hide her.”
“She was in the next room. I’ve learned the secret to surviving parties, you know.”
“What’s that?”
“The nicest and most interesting people at a party are often in the corners, not in the middle.”
“I was in the middle,” Nicholas said. “Are you saying I’m boring?”
“You were there under duress,” she said.
“I was,” he agreed. “The next time you go to a party, I’m following you into the corner.”
His statement hung in her brain l
ike a veiled but delicious sensual threat. “Okay,” she muttered. “But the corner’s gonna get awfully crowded when all your wannabe dates follow you there.” Nicholas just chuckled, but Gail knew as sure as her hair was red that she wouldn’t be attending any more parties with him.
The following morning Gail perused the morning paper while Molly picked up her Cheerios one by one and ate them. Molly seemed to delight in finger food and relished the opportunity to exert her independence.
Gail read the front page, then the sports section, then glanced at the style section. A photograph on the front page caught her attention. A dozen local women were featured in photos for their stylish clothing. It just so happened that Nicholas was shown escorting one of them.
Gail couldn’t help staring at the photograph. First she looked at Nicholas. What woman wouldn’t? He was one of those men who would look just as good naked as he did in a suit. And the woman beside him in the photo was so beautiful she almost didn’t look real. Gail studied the woman’s impeccable clothing from head to toe, all the while entirely too aware of her own sweat suit and tennis shoes.
Nicholas’s housekeeper, a middle-aged woman from Romania named Ana, came up behind Gail. “One of Mr. Barone’s ladies?”
Feeling her stomach give an involuntary twist, Gail nodded. The photograph underscored the differences between her and the other women in Nicholas’s life. The stark contrast shouldn’t bother her. She’d always been fairly content with herself, never spending much time pining to be different. So why was she bothered now? “She’s beautiful. Everything about her looks so perfect. I wonder how she does it.”
“They’re all beautiful,” Ana said. “But Mr. Barone, he is quite handsome. The newspaper takes his picture all the time. He looks so good. But the women, he doesn’t let them into his heart.”
“That’s what he told me,” Gail said.
Ana’s dark eyebrows flew upward. “He told you that?”
Gail shrugged. “Men tell me things they wouldn’t normally share with a woman. They don’t see me as a potential romantic partner. I’m like one of the guys,” she said, and though she hadn’t minded the situation before, the notion that no man viewed her in a romantic way was starting to grate on her. Silly, she told herself. Last night had just been a little tough on the ego. “I can’t disagree with you about Mr. Barone, though. He’s a hottie. I’m beginning to think I should get hazard pay working for him.”
“Hazard pay?” Ana said.
“Sure. He’s so hot he’s hazardous to a woman’s concentration.”
Ana laughed and swiped at her. “You are joking. You have good sense of humor.”
Gail wasn’t joking. She had the uncomfortable feeling that any woman in Nicholas’s proximity could fall for him, and based on his attitude toward romantic love, that would be a disaster. She opened her mouth to protest, but a Cheerio hit her on the cheek.
She glanced up at Molly just before another barely missed her nose. “You little bugger,” she said, rising to clean up the toddler. “I’ve told you not to throw food. Soon enough, you’ll be eating Italian food, and people don’t like to dodge meatballs even from cutiepies like you.”
Molly lifted her hand to toss another Cheerio, but Gail stopped her. “No, no,” she said, taking the Cheerio from her tight clasp. “Breakfast is over. If you’re throwing food, then you’re definitely not hungry.”
She quickly wiped off Molly’s hands and face, then lifted her from the high chair. Molly immediately wrapped her hand around a strand of Gail’s hair.
“It’s so sweet the way the baby reaches for your hair,” Ana said, and smiled.
“Yes.” Gail looked down into Molly’s trusting wide eyes. “This is one person who definitely doesn’t care if I wear designer clothes or sweats.” Molly adored her, but, Gail reminded herself, she would do well to remember that Nicholas would never fall for any woman, least of all her.
That not-good-enough feeling followed Gail around for the next two days. By game time on Thursday night, she was ready to take out her frustration on the volleyball court. She played hard, too hard, and she pulled a muscle in her shoulder in the last three minutes of the game.
Her team won, and her teammates were jazzed with her performance. They wanted to take her to their favorite bar to celebrate, but Gail’s shoulder hurt too much to hang around. She drove home and quietly crept in the front door, then tiptoed down the hall. All she wanted was the peace and quiet of her room.
“How was the game?” an all-too familiar masculine voice asked from behind her in a tone that wreaked havoc with her heart.
Gail tensed. She didn’t turn. She didn’t want to look at him. The man had filled too many of her thoughts lately. “Great. We creamed them. Only problem is I creamed my shoulder in the process,” she said, squeezing her right shoulder.
He walked to her side. “How bad is it?”
“I won’t die from it.”
“You’ll just feel like it,” he said with a gentle smile of commiseration. “Go get in the Jacuzzi in the mini-gym downstairs. It’ll work wonders.”
She couldn’t deny that a few minutes in a hot tub sounded inviting. “Then I’ll go straight to bed,” she said, finally glancing at him. “Thanks.”
Gail quickly climbed the stairs, stripped and pulled on a one-piece bathing suit. Self-conscious about running into Nicholas, she pulled on a sweat suit, too. She took the two flights down to the mini-gym to find the light already turned on and the hot tub bubbling in invitation.
Breathing a sigh of relief that Nicholas was nowhere in sight, she pulled off the sweat suit and stepped into the tub. She sank into the hot water and moaned as her muscles immediately began to unknot. She closed her eyes and relaxed.
“Is it your right shoulder,” Nicholas said from behind her, startling her so that she jerked upright. She felt his hand on her bare skin. “You need to relax.”
“It would help if you wouldn’t sneak up behind me.”
“I didn’t sneak. You were almost asleep.” He gently massaged her shoulder. “Relax.”
While you’re touching me? she thought. Fat chance. She closed her eyes and exhaled. As long as he stayed out of the hot tub, everything would be fine. She allowed herself to relax while his fingers soothed her knotted muscles.
She felt him shift his stance and swear under his breath. “This is too difficult from this position. I’m coming in.”
Uh-oh.
Four
“No! That’s really not necessary. You’ve done enough,” Gail said, standing up in the tub. “More than enough.”
“What is with you?” Nicholas asked, looking at her as if she had a loose screw. He stepped into the swirling water. “Why are you panicking? Do you have some kind of phobia about hot tubs or something?”
“No, but—” She broke off, flustered, feeling color rise to her cheeks. She tried to avoid looking at his naked chest, but wasn’t succeeding. “Don’t you think it’s…well, inappropriate for us to be in the hot tub together?”
“Why?” he asked with a blank expression on his face. “We’re not naked.” He shrugged. “Although I admit I usually don’t wear anything when I get in the hot tub.”
Gail closed her eyes and swallowed a moan. “That’s more than I needed to know.”
“Just sit down.”
Gail sighed and sank back down in the water. “Why are you doing this?”
“I owe you after that awful cocktail party,” he said, returning his hands to her shoulder. “Waste of a free evening.”
“It was pretty bad,” she conceded. “Except I enjoyed meeting Delores.”
“Hmm,” he said, continuing to massage her. “So you’re the POM?”
“What’s a POM?”
“Player of the moment.”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling at the acronym. “I’ll have to tell that one to Jonathan. He’ll love it.”
“Was he there tonight?”
“He’s always there. He’s the team captain.�
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“And he wants to be more than friends with you,” Nicholas said.
Gail laughed. “That’s a good one. You’re wrong, you know. Jonathan and I have been friends forever. Well, at least through college.”
“Trust me. I know what I’m talking about. I saw the way he looks at you,” Nicholas said.
Gail paused at his tone. He wasn’t joking. She opened her eyes and turned around to look at him. “How does he look at me?”
“Like he wants to get you in his bed,” Nicholas said, his voice low, his eyes full of secrets.
Gail’s stomach turned a somersault at the idea of Nicholas wanting her in his bed. She sucked in a shocked breath. Where had that thought come from? She shook her head. “I haven’t seen that from him at all.”
“Maybe because you’re not looking for it,” he said, lifting a wayward strand of hair from her cheek.
“Or maybe it just doesn’t seem likely to me. I’m not—”
“Don’t say you’re not pretty. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Nicholas said.
Gail rolled her eyes. “Okay. I’m not sexy.”
His gaze took a slow trip over her face, hovered on her lips so long they burned, then slid down to the tops of her breasts and lower. Gail felt her nipples grow taut and sank lower into the water.
His gaze returned to hers. “That’s a matter of opinion.”
Her heart hammered against her rib cage. She felt as if she were going to dissolve into the bubbling water. She tried to gulp a deep, mind-clearing breath, but only managed a shallow one. The sexual intensity in his eyes scrambled her mental circuits, and of its own volition, her body leaned toward his. She instinctively lifted her mouth.
He lowered his.
She sucked in another quick breath. She was going to kiss him. He was going to—
No! Some wayward part of her rational mind kicked in. This was craziness. She forced herself to back away. “You are very good,” she said, wishing her voice didn’t sound so husky.
