The Boss's Baby Affair

by Tessa Radley

  Jet lag was definitely setting in with a vengeance, he decided.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said brusquely.

  Her smile vanished and she blinked, shattering the unwelcome spell that bound him.

  “Even ten minutes will make a difference to any possible bruise marks,” she wheedled.

  “Okay.” To make amends for his terseness, Nick gave her a wry smile. “Then I won’t have to explain how I came to have a bruise.”

  Her eyes clouded over. She was about to start apologizing again. Nick hadn’t intended that. She’d relaxed a little since leaving him with Jennie. He didn’t want to see her looking wretched—he wanted to see her smile. The generous, spontaneous smile that lit up her whole face…and made him feel like a ray of sunlight had stolen into the night.

  “Don’t worry—it will take more than a bump in the night to keep me down.” Reluctantly he moved away from her toward the sitting area off the upstairs lobby and slumped down into the closest sofa, his head falling back against the pile of cushions as he closed his eyes. Man, he was tired.

  The sudden cold of the ice pack against his skull made him flinch.

  “Try not to move.” Candace spoke from behind him. “I’ll hold it here for a few minutes.”

  Despite the pressure of the freezing pack, a bit of peace seeped into him. It was the first time in weeks that he’d done nothing at all.

  Candace leaned forward. “Not too cold?”

  “At least it’s keeping me from falling asleep.”

  She laughed, a joyous peal of sound. Nick forgot the coldness of the ice pack against his head and became aware of the wholesome scent of baby powder, soap and the hint of something more spicy and sexy that enveloped her.

  The surge of desire that thrummed through his blood startled him. How long had it been since he’d allowed himself to feel that heady heat? And now it had happened with a woman he didn’t know—his daughter’s nanny, for God’s sake.

  He must be desperate.

  Jeez, he was desperate.

  How long had it been…?

  “Relax. Your shoulders are all bunched up. Do you want me to rub them?” The angel’s wickedly seductive voice interrupted his out-of-control thoughts.

  “No.” Nick closed his eyes against the tempting suggestion. He was already far too aware of the woman. If she touched him…

  To Nick’s intense discomfort, his body instantly reacted to the idea of her hands rubbing his skin. If Candace glimpsed his lap, she would see the humiliating effect her proximity had had on him from his tented trousers. Damn. He was trapped until this wayward impulse subsided.

  Candace shifted, adjusting the ice pack, her breath soft against the top of his head.

  Nick tensed, moving his hands surreptitiously to his trouser front, shielding any bulge from her view. “That’s fine. It’s late. Why don’t you call it a night and go to bed?”

  “I want to check on Jennie first before I retire.” She straightened with a rustle of fabric, and he could no longer feel her breath ruffling his hair. Her voice had taken on a different note, too. Brisk and all business. Nick missed the concern, the caring note. Then he jerked himself back to reality.

  He’d been aroused by his child’s nurse. It was like a bad-taste comedy. Nick didn’t grope the hired help…or seduce his secretaries.

  He had to get away from her.

  “I’ll hold the ice pack on the lump. You can let go,” he said gruffly, suddenly desperate for her to leave. But even that didn’t block out the heightened awareness he’d developed of Candace…where she stood…as he strained his ears trying to figure out what she was doing.

  The ice pack shifted. A curl brushed against his cheek.

  “Oops!” Her voice was breathless.

  The ice pack slipped from her hold and landed in his lap. Nick made a grab for it and, growling with frustration, closed his eyes and prayed for control.

  The sudden silence that followed stretched his nerves to breaking point.

  Nick opened his eyes.

  She’d moved, and now stood in front of him, staring at him, and she flushed as he caught her gaze. “I should go check on Jennie.”

  “Yes, you should.” It came out as a low, feral growl. Wide awake now, all his weariness evaporated, he cleared his throat and held the ice pack out. “Thanks for the ice.”

  She reached for it the same moment that he unfolded his length from the sofa. They bumped into each other and she laughed awkwardly. Nick didn’t smile. He had never felt less like laughing in his life.

  “Sorry—”

  “I’m sorry—”

  They both broke off, her laughter coming to an abrupt end as their eyes met. Nick didn’t know how it happened, but he’d taken a step forward. She didn’t retreat. He couldn’t have stopped what happened next if he’d tried…

  Her lips were soft. Softer than any he’d ever kissed.

  Hunger clawed at his belly. He fought to keep the kiss gentle, not to unleash the ferocity that lurked within him. She tasted so sweet. He pressed soft kisses along the seam of her lips, leashing the feral urge to grab her by her shoulders, yank her to him and kiss her with all the hunger that churned inside him.

  Instead he concentrated on their only point of contact: their lips.

  But it wasn’t enough. His hands came up and cupped her jaw.

  She jerked, breaking the thrall that held them both.

  “No!”

  Candace pulled back sharply. Nick’s hands dropped away from her face. They were shaking. And he wasn’t the only one affected. Her breasts were rising and falling under the snug fit of her T-shirt, the ice pack clutched between her white-knuckled hands.

  Nick forced his gaze away, back to her face.

  Damn. He was out of his mind. “That should not have happened.”

  Her eyes had gone dark. “You’re right.”

  “It won’t happen again,” Nick vowed, putting the length of the sitting room between them and retreating toward the top of the stairs…then edging to the safety of his suite that lay beyond. “I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it—I certainly don’t intend to.”

  Once he’d reached his own wing of the mansion, Nick made for the luxurious bathroom, where he stripped off the travel-soiled suit pants and unbuttoned the business shirt. He was wired now. All thoughts of sleep banished.

  He spread his hands on the glass vanity slab. Lowering his head, he drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

  In the past half hour he’d experienced swings of emotion that had badly rattled him. The vulnerability when he’d held Jennie, the realization as he fed her the night bottle that this little scrap depended on him for everything in her life. And the need to get the hell out of that nursery before the safety of his world cracked wide open.

  Only to find himself over the edge of the precipice. Shuddering, he relived the torrential surge of desire that Candace had aroused. Had he walked away while he could? No, he’d acted on it.

  Kissed her.

  Double damn.

  Bracing his weight on his arms, Nick raised his head and confronted himself in the wall of mirror above the vanity. He looked different from his usual tightly controlled, immaculately groomed self. Not outwardly—the swelling where the edge of the tin had connected didn’t show. It was in his eyes where the change lay. Instead of the customary cool calculation, they were filled with turmoil.

  What had unnerved him? The sudden bond he found himself forging with Jennie? Or the angelic-looking nanny who’d woken the devil in him?

  Nick wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

  A sharp cry woke Candace.

  After silencing the baby monitor, Candace sprang out of bed and ran along the carpeted landing lit by night-lights until she reached the nursery. Lifting Jennie out of the crib, she rocked the baby in her arms.

  “Hush,” she murmured as Jennie’s head swung up and butted her chin.

  The red numbers of the counter clock on the dresser glowed in the night. Two o’
clock. Not yet time for a feeding. Jennie fussed in Candace’s arms. Walking silenced her momentarily, then the whimpers restarted. Candace laid Jennie down on the changing surface above the dresser, and reached for the thermometer in the first-aid kit on the shelf above. Talking a stream of softly whispered nonsense to Jennie, she deftly removed the diaper and inserted the thermometer.

  “Sorry, sweetheart. I know you would’ve preferred a tympanic thermometer, but those ears might still be tender.”

  A few seconds later the thermometer beeped. The reading was above normal, but far from dangerous. Quickly, Candace put on a clean diaper, then picked Jennie up and started to walk, Jennie grumbling incessantly.

  Candace suppressed a sigh. “So much for not losing any sleep tonight, huh, Jennie?”

  A flash of memory hit her of the wild pleasure that had pierced her when Nick Valentine had kissed her…and the flare of absolute panic that had followed.

  She must’ve communicated her unease to the baby because Jennie let out a volley of wails.

  Seconds later, the door to the nursery burst open.

  Nick stood there, a dark silhouette against the shaft of light that spilled in from the landing. A rustle of movement, then a switch clicked and bright light flooded the room.

  Candace blinked against the glare. Nick wore only a pair of hastily donned pants, the top button still undone. His chest was bare, his hair mussed.

  He’d told her he had no intention of losing any sleep over the kiss they’d shared…and had expected her to do the same.

  Yet the sight of him caused her pulse to thud.

  She was a fool.

  Candace looked away as Jennie wailed more loudly.

  Nick advanced. “Let me see if I can settle her.”

  Gut instinct caused her arms to tighten.

  “Give her to me,” he ordered, his face closed, exhibiting no sign of the passionate man who’d kissed her with such ravenous hunger.

  Candace took herself in hand. Forget about that kiss. This hard-eyed man was her employer. Jennie’s father. Soundlessly she surrendered the baby.

  Nick took Jennie with more ease than he’d shown earlier. Instantly, Jennie’s cries stilled. Her eyes widened as she stared up at the man who held her. The sight of the baby bundled up against the muscled torso caused pain to splinter deep inside Candace.

  When Jennie looked down from her father’s face and stared at the wall of chest in front of her with a puzzled expression, Candace’s throat closed. The baby reached out and touched a ridge of muscle, her puny fingers closed around a sprinkle of hair. She tugged.

  Nick didn’t flinch.

  Jennie gave a gurgle.

  And Candace wanted to cry.

  It was clear that the baby hardly knew her father.

  So what am I going to do about that? Candace asked herself. Can I leave Jennie with a man who doesn’t have time for his own child? A man who didn’t even care enough to call home from overseas when she was sick?

  Nick Valentine needed to take responsibility for Jennie. He was her father.

  “I’m going to make an appointment to take her back to the doctor tomorrow,” Candace told him.

  “She doesn’t appear that ill.” Nick was studying the baby.

  He’d seen Jennie for maybe an hour after a month away and now he was an expert on her health? As much as she itched to, Candace couldn’t voice that reaction—Nick Valentine was her boss. The last thing she wanted was to annoy him enough for him to dismiss her.

  Besides, if she was honest, he had a point. Right now Jennie didn’t look that ill. But Nick hadn’t seen her flushed with fever, her body limp after being contorted with convulsions. He hadn’t experienced the fear—the helplessness—that had caused his sister to sob at the hospital. When Candace had taken the baby from Alison that day, she’d been terrified by the baby’s burning temperature, the spasms that had shaken her little body. Nick couldn’t possibly understand.

  He’d been thousands of miles away, choosing furniture and carvings for upmarket gardens, focusing on making his next million.

  But blaming him, working herself up, wasn’t going to help the situation. Candace pulled herself together and said with forced calm, “I don’t like the way she’s fretting.”

  “Then make a doctor’s appointment in the morning.” He jiggled the baby in his arms.

  “What time will suit you best?”

  His head jerked up. “What?”

  “When will you be free?” Did he imagine she’d make an appointment without consulting him? Even she knew he was a hotshot tycoon with endless demands on his time. “Or should I ask your assistant when you’re available tomorrow?”

  “I can’t come—I’ve got too much to do tomorrow.”

  Of course he did. Poor Jennie. “You have to come. You’re her father and she’s been ill.”

  “What exactly was the matter?”

  “Chronic ear infection. Her temperature rocketed until she had convulsions. She had to be hospitalized.”

  And that was how she’d come into Jennie’s life. Candace hadn’t stopped thanking her stars for whatever twist of fate had put her on duty for the shift when Jennie arrived.

  “I’d have come if—”

  If it had been important enough…

  Candace cut him off with a wave of her hand—she wasn’t interested in his excuses. Nick had no idea what havoc she was capable of unleashing—especially driven by her own guilt, her own very personal demons. “Jennie needs you with her. And I want to make sure there’s been no resurgence of the infection, that her eardrums are clear. I’d hate for Jennie to lose her hearing for life.”

  He gave her an unreadable look. “Arrange the appointment, and get Mr. Busby to take you. Let me know the time and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Good—Jennie will appreciate it.”

  The baby might be blissfully unaware of the importance of the moment. But in the years to come, at least Candace would have the comfort of knowing she’d gotten Nick involved in taking care of his daughter.

  Something about the expression on the nanny’s face bothered Nick.

  Nurse, he amended silently. His sister had told him Candace was a nurse…not a nanny. Frankly, Nick didn’t care what Candace called herself as long as she quit having this unsettling effect on him.

  He was doing everything he could to pretend her proximity was leaving him unfazed. He’d forced himself to be cool and distant, but it wasn’t working. He only had to catch a whiff of her sweet, spicy perfume to want to pull her close and bury his mouth against her scented skin.

  It wouldn’t do.

  If only he could make himself think of her as the nanny—or the nurse—rather than Candace, the woman with tousled hair and translucent silver-gray eyes who was standing a short distance away from him wearing nothing but a pair of pink-and-white candy-striped cotton pajamas. Nick’s gaze fell on the monitor that poked out the breast pocket of her pajama top, and he said with more than a little desperation, “I’m glad the system works—you must’ve sprinted up the stairs to have got here quicker than I did.”

  She gave him a peculiar look. “What do you mean? I’m in the room next door.”

  Next door? “You’re not in the nanny’s quarters in the basement?”

  She shook her head. “The doctor and I agreed it made sense for me to be close at hand when Jennie was ill.” Her gaze was very level. “Your sister agreed. The house has so many bedrooms—all of them empty. It seemed silly for me to stay two floors away from Jennie.”

  “Of course.”

  His lukewarm response caused her to say quickly, “I’m here to look after your daughter. As long as she’s happy and healthy, does it matter where I sleep?”

  Nick could hardly confess that the thought of her living here—on the same floor as him, a short distance from the master suite—was going to drive him crazy.

  At least, he supposed, his mind would be at peace knowing Jennie was well looked after. Even if his body was on re
d alert.

  He suppressed a groan.

  So much for getting any sleep…

  Three

  The next day Candace glanced at her watch for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. The minute hand had crawled to twenty minutes past noon.

  Where was Nick?

  On her lap, Jennie gurgled and gazed avidly at the two identically dressed boys on the opposite side of the doctor’s reception room, who appeared hell-bent on stripping the florist ribbon out of a flower arrangement. Their harried-looking father kept telling them to stop, to no avail. The twins had arrived half an hour after Candace, right on the heels of a little girl with a rash on her face.

  That patient had already been sent in ahead, Candace having elected to miss Jennie’s scheduled appointment time and wait for Nick to arrive. Who was now forty minutes late. With every passing moment, it was becoming clearer that Nick had no intention of keeping the promise he’d made.

  Candace had tried to call him several times. Only to get his voice mail. She should’ve expected this. He’d told her he was busy. But she’d blissfully thought this time he would put Jennie first…before work.

  Had he ever intended to come? Or had he sent her on ahead with the chauffeur simply to get her out of his hair?

  It didn’t matter what excuse he’d make later, it wouldn’t take away the ache of…of…disappointment…in Candace’s heart.

  She told herself the emotion she was feeling had nothing to with her ambivalent relationship with Nick…or with the desire he’d awakened within her last night. She told herself it was all about Jennie.

  By not arriving for the appointment, by not even bothering to let Candace know he’d bailed, he’d irrevocably let Jennie down.

  With his round face and ruddy complexion, the snowy-bearded man seated behind the heavy antique desk twiddling a pen between his fingers looked like every child’s vision of Santa Claus.

  Nick had been taken in by the air of jolly bonhomie when he’d first met Desmond Perry—until he’d discovered that the devil himself lurked behind that merry mask. Now he couldn’t figure out how he’d failed to notice the splinters of ice in the startling blue eyes.