The Nanny Who Saved Christmas

by Michelle Douglas

  Always Cade. The thought of him warmed her blood.

  ‘I thought you’d gone to bed.’

  Before she could haul herself upright again, her feet were lifted so that she lay full length on the sofa. She couldn’t help groaning her appreciation at the cushioning softness that cradled her or the warmth of Cade’s hands at her ankles.

  With a small sliding caress, he released them and hunkered down on the floor with his back against the sofa. He smelled of soap and the single malt Scotch that he drank. It took an effort of will not to reach out and push her fingers through his hair.

  ‘I still feel a little too keyed up to sleep,’ she admitted.

  He glanced at her, the blue of his eyes a caress against her face. ‘You could’ve settled in with one of those romance novels.’

  ‘Ah, but then I’d be up all night devouring it.’

  He opened his mouth, but then his eyes stilled, his gaze seemingly arrested by her lips—arrested and absorbed. It made her blood chug and it chased her tiredness away in the time it took the lights on the Christmas tree to wink on and then off. And the longer he stared, the more she remembered the feel of his lips on hers and the taste of him, and the yearning, the craving, built inside her until she had to cover her mouth with her hand to stop him from looking at her like that.

  He jolted away from her, his gaze shooting to the Christmas tree. She closed her eyes and tried to get her breathing back under control. ‘I...’ She swallowed. ‘It’s been a great day. You must be over the moon. You gave Ella a Christmas she’ll remember for ever, and Holly had a ball. Not to mention the rest of your family.’

  ‘And you?’

  When he turned back it was almost as if that earlier moment hadn’t happened. Her heart burned in protest even as her common sense told her it was for the best. ‘I’ve had the best Christmas ever.’ Her voice emerged on a husky whisper. She couldn’t help it. ‘What about you? Did you enjoy today or were you too preoccupied with making sure everyone else had a good time?’

  He lifted his tumbler, breathed in the fumes, but he didn’t drink. ‘I had a great day.’ He started to lift the tumbler to his lips and then paused and offered her the glass.

  She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. ‘I’m not a fan of whisky.’ Not even the gorgeous single malt Scotch that had been Verity’s gift to Cade. ‘I prefer something sweeter.’

  He took a sip and his eyes suddenly gleamed. ‘Something sweeter, huh?’

  ‘I’m fine, Cade. I don’t want anything, honestly.’

  ‘I noticed you didn’t stuff yourself senseless at lunch like the rest of us and then spend the afternoon nibbling on all the assorted goodies.’

  ‘I ate my fair share, thank you very much!’ She just hadn’t gone back for seconds. And she hadn’t picked too much between meals—other than a couple of handfuls of cherries. She was still intent on slimming down.

  She had slimmed down.

  Today had shown her just how much she’d always comfort ate at Christmas...and how much she comfort ate full stop. She didn’t want to do that any more.

  ‘Yet you have a sweet tooth.’

  ‘That I’m doing my best to control.’ She wasn’t given to pats on the back—not for herself—but she couldn’t help feeling she deserved a big fat pat on the back for that. There had been moments when that self-control had been sheer torture.

  ‘You have a sweet tooth,’ he repeated, ‘and it’s Christmas.’

  She didn’t trust that gleam in his eye. ‘So?’

  He slid across the floor and seized her jar of chocolate sultanas and lifted them in her direction. Her mouth promptly watered. No amount of self-control could prevent that.

  She tried to distract herself. ‘Harry and your mother wouldn’t let me tidy up.’ Presents still sat in festive stacks about the room.

  ‘Absolutely not. That’s what Boxing Day is for.’

  He said it exactly the same way Verity had.

  He shook the jar. ‘Nicola, these are unopened.’

  The sound of chocolate sultanas tinkling against glass sounded like raindrops hitting parched earth and cued more mouth watering. ‘I...um...’ She stared at the jar. Simon had kindly informed her that its contents looked like kangaroo droppings, but not even that thought could stop her from salivating. She swallowed. ‘I’m saving them for when there’s not quite so many other nibblies around.’

  ‘You’re not bringing these out to share with anyone.’

  She wasn’t?

  ‘They are all yours.’

  Her heart thudded in anticipation...and greed.

  He slid back over to the sofa, bringing the jar with him. He broke the seal. ‘Oops.’

  His utter lack of remorse should’ve made her laugh, only he waved the jar under her nose and the combined scent of chocolate and sultana hit her. Her stomach clenched. Her resolve faltered.

  ‘They’re open now.’

  The invitation in his voice could tempt a stronger woman than her. She forced herself to think of Melbourne, of Diane and Brad...and her mother. She sat up. She planted her feet on the floor. ‘Then by all means help yourself to as many as you’d like.’

  The gleam didn’t leave his eyes, but a new determination entered them as he planted himself on the sofa beside her. He tipped a pile of the confectionery into his hand and held it out towards her. Taking one sultana, he lifted it to his lips and ate it slowly. ‘Mmm...delicious.’

  For a moment she couldn’t move. She wanted to yell at him for tempting her resolve so outrageously.

  A second sultana followed suit. That hand waved temptingly beneath her nose.

  He lifted a third...

  She could stand it no longer. She seized a sultana from his cupped hand and popped it straight into her mouth. The chocolate melted on her tongue. When she bit down, the flavour of the sultana exploded through her. She groaned and closed her eyes in ecstasy.

  When he took her hand and poured the sultanas into them, she made no protest. She ate them, savoured them.

  He watched her devour them. The gleam had left his eyes, replaced with something she couldn’t read and was too cowardly to decipher.

  ‘You really do love them.’ His voice was low.

  ‘They’re my favourite food on earth.’

  ‘Then why deny yourself? Especially today?’

  The pile he’d tipped into her hand had gone. She’d eaten them all. And she wanted more. Lots more.

  Are you going to be a complete glutton, Nicola Ann?

  With a gulp, she seized the lid and tried to put it back on the jar, only Cade wouldn’t let her. He captured her hand, his grip tightening until she looked at him. ‘Why deny yourself?’

  Her pulse throbbed at the contact. She tried to shrug. ‘Once I start eating them, I can’t stop.’

  ‘And what’s wrong with that?’

  He couldn’t be serious? ‘If I keep eating them, I will get fat. Fatter,’ she amended. ‘How on earth will I lose weight if I keep indulging?’

  ‘So you won’t even allow yourself the occasional indulgence?’

  ‘It’s dangerous to indulge a weakness.’

  His eyes narrowed. He poured more sultanas into his hand and held one out to her. She swallowed. She tried to say no, but his eyes urged her to throw caution to the winds, to live in the moment.

  She opened her mouth, helpless to resist either Cade or the sweet, and savoured every delicious moment of the morsel.

  ‘It’s ludic
rous to deny yourself such a simple pleasure.’

  It wasn’t simple, though. She couldn’t help but feel this lack of self-control was somehow tied into being treated so badly by Diane and Brad...and all her friends thinking her a doormat. Slimming down, brightening herself up and not allowing herself to be taken for granted would prove to them all that she wasn’t a doormat. Or a failure.

  He held another sultana up, she opened her mouth and he slipped it between her lips. The inherent sensuality of the gesture was as delicious as the chocolate and sultana combination. ‘Would you be happier if you were thin?’

  She blinked. ‘Well, hello, yes!’ Any woman would say yes to that.

  He slammed the jar of sultanas onto the coffee table. ‘Why the hell is that so? What the hell is wrong with your body? I love your body. I can’t stand that you hate it.’ He ground his teeth together and then poured more sultanas into her hand. ‘Your worth is not measured by your weight or your waistline. Eat!’

  He loved her body? With tears prickling the backs of her eyes, she ate.

  Finally she had to lean back with a groan and shake her head. ‘If I have any more I’ll be ill.’

  Only then did Cade replace the lid on the jar. He turned back to her. ‘What do you think losing weight will prove to Diane and Brad...or your mother?’

  His perception froze her.

  ‘That you have worth?’

  If she said yes, would he yell at her again?

  ‘It’s not your weight that’s the problem, Nicola, it’s your attitude. Until you learn to embrace your body, to love it as you should love it because it’s beautiful, then nobody else is going to give you the respect you deserve.’

  He reached out and cupped her cheek. His hand smelled of chocolate. She wanted to close her eyes and breathe him in. ‘We teach people how to treat us. You don’t need to lose weight. You need to learn to walk tall—with pride and confidence.’

  She thought about that, and about the way Verity and Dee carried themselves. The way Cade carried himself. They walked with pride and confidence, as if they were sure of who they were and their place in the world.

  Growing up with her mother’s constant stream of criticism had eroded her confidence and sense of self-worth, but she wasn’t a child any longer. She was an adult, able to make her own value judgements, and there were a lot of things she could do well. She was a good teacher and a good friend. She could ride a horse as if it were second nature. When she sang, people stopped to listen. She believed in the values of compassion, kindness and justice.

  ‘Well?’

  She stared into his eyes and realised she couldn’t believe those values held true for other people and not for herself too. Values didn’t work that way.

  She blinked, stunned by the revelation. ‘I think,’ she started slowly, ‘that you might be right. I mean, it’s such a simple truth but...’ She’d never seen it before.

  Finally he smiled and it was like Christmas all over again. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you.’

  He stilled. His gaze lowered to her lips and his eyes darkened. Heat threaded through her...and temptation.

  ‘You should go to bed.’

  The words growled out of him, but his gaze remained on her lips, the hunger in them identical to her hunger for the chocolate sultanas. It was then she realised there was something she craved more than those—Cade. She wanted him with an elemental savagery that shook her bones.

  She should move away and go to bed like he’d ordered, but Cade had set something free in her tonight when he’d tempted her with those sultanas and told her he loved her body. He’d made her face temptation head-on. He’d forced her to indulge it. Now she had no hope of resisting the greater temptation he presented. She had no desire to do so.

  She slipped her hands either side of his face and, leaning forward, placed her lips on his. She tasted of chocolate, he tasted of whisky, and the combination of flavours was as heady as anything she had ever experienced.

  He held himself still beneath her touch, but he didn’t pull away and, emboldened, she moved in closer to deepen the kiss and taste him more fully.

  A breath shuddered out of him. Her hands explored the angle of his jaw, the strong line of his neck and shoulders. One of her hands snaked around his head to anchor her more firmly against him while her other splayed across his chest, revelling in the male strength of him.

  With that movement it was as if she had released some check or restraint in him. With a groan, he gathered her close and claimed her lips with a potent mastery that had her trembling and reeling both at the same time.

  His hand moved to the hem of her shirt, and then under it. The skin on skin contact made her gasp as a delicious new energy and a brand new greed fired through her. He pressed her back against the sofa, angling her beneath him as his lips and tongue teased her lips and tongue, and all she could do was cling to him. One powerful thigh insinuated its way between her legs. She arched against it, wanting to feel him pressed against all of her, gripped by a need bigger than herself.

  He’d fed her chocolate sultanas. He’d told her he loved her body. He kissed her exactly how she’d always needed to be kissed but had never been kissed before. The man was perfect!

  With a growl, she reached up and tore the buttons from his shirt, raked her fingernails down his bare chest. He hissed in a breath and she revelled in the freedom of touching him. She pressed her palms to his hot skin and breathed him in. He was hard and as smooth as satin.

  Perfect!

  Slowly, deliciously, she moved her hands down to his stomach. He trembled. Had she done that? She did it again. He trembled again and she revelled in the knowledge that she could affect all of this superb masculinity so easily, with just a touch.

  Beneath her shirt, his hand moved to cover one breast. Beneath the thin cotton of her bra her nipple puckered and tautened. He rolled it between thumb and forefinger.

  ‘Oh!’ She stiffened and then arched into his touch, her body jerking in reaction, and that slow, lazy smile that she loved so much spread across his face as he continued to torment her fevered flesh.

  Boldly, she ran her fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans and the laziness vanished. ‘Kiss me,’ she groaned. It was half an order and half a plea. He complied and Nicola lost herself in a world of sensation.

  Completely. Time held no sway. There was only Cade and her...and magic.

  ‘Daddy?’

  A foreign sound filtered into her consciousness and Nicola stilled.

  ‘Nic?’

  Cade froze.

  It hit her then what the interruption was—Ella!

  She and Cade sprang apart. Nicola righted her clothes and pasted on a bright smile for Ella’s benefit. ‘Hey, pumpkin.’

  She glanced at Cade, expecting him to look as discomposed as she felt. He didn’t. He’d gone cold and still. He’d withdrawn, utterly and completely. Her stomach dropped and her skin chilled. He’d thrown up a brick wall, complete with razor wire and a watchtower. His body gave off wave after wave of rebuttal and rejection. She wanted to close her eyes so she didn’t have to witness it. She wanted to shake him. She wanted...

  It didn’t matter what she wanted.

  ‘What’s up, sweetie?’ Her voice came out surprisingly steady, although her insides trembled and her knees felt like jelly. ‘What are you doing up?’

  Ella raced across to bury her face in Nicola’s lap. ‘I’m thirsty. I want a drink o
f water.’

  ‘Oh, I think we can manage that.’ She brushed a hand through the child’s hair.

  She kept her voice deliberately cheerful, even while inside she was dying. Dying of embarrassment and something darker and harder and meaner, although she couldn’t put a name to it. But it reared up to stab her every time she glanced at the hard, uncompromising line of Cade’s mouth.

  ‘I’ll take care of this.’

  With an effortless ease that spoke of his strength—and resolve—he lifted Ella into his arms.

  ‘Go to bed, Nicola.’

  He turned and walked away. And just like that she was dismissed.

  She sat there, stunned, unable to move as her body attempted to process the emotions that tumbled through her in a confusing jumbled rush—the memory of Cade’s mouth on hers, with its searing heat, the way her body had come alive in his arms, the way she’d forgotten herself completely...and then the chilled recognition of his withdrawal.

  Her hands clenched. She should feel grateful for the interruption, but all she felt was a frustrated sense of disappointment, and it grew and prickled and itched. She would get no sleep tonight.

  She rose, Cade’s curt and dismissive Go to bed, Nicola still ringing in her ears, when a sudden chill dissipated all of her built up heat.

  Her arms snaked about her waist. Her mouth dried. What on earth had she been thinking? If they hadn’t been interrupted, she and Cade would’ve gone all the way. They’d have made love. And then what?

  She wrung her hands and then gripped them tightly. What was wrong with her? Did she mean to transfer all the dreams she’d had for the future—marriage, babies and a home—to the first man she met? Was she really that weak and needy?

  Her chin snapped up. While she suspected Cade wasn’t in the right head space to contemplate that kind of commitment, she knew for sure that she wasn’t. Her life was complicated enough as it was. She wasn’t going to make it even more complicated.