Casey pressed fingertips to her chest and the scars hidden beneath her sleeveless cotton blouse, souvenirs of her time in the army. They were both a warning and a reminder that trusting anyone was a dangerous proposition. She’d let the wrong person come close, and an IED—an improvised explosive device—had taken her best friend’s life and left her two little kids motherless. Blake Decker had no idea how much military she would always carry around with her.
“Another thing,” she said, ignoring his charm. The man had buckets of charm and her military training hadn’t prepared her for that. The army was about discipline, chain of command, following orders. There was no handbook for how to remain impassive when you were attracted to the person giving the orders. You were simply expected to follow the command without question.
“Yes?”
“From what you told me about Mia’s background and the behavior I observed—”
“What a nice way to say she’s a shoplifter.”
“You can only be grateful that she’s not very good at it.”
“That already occurred to me,” he admitted.
“I’ve been thinking about it, and in my opinion the two of you could benefit from counseling. I can give you several recommendations of excellent family therapists—”
“No.”
She stared at him for a moment. “Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“But negotiating is what you do,” she reminded him.
“It is. But some things aren’t worth a compromise. And going toe-to-toe with a Dr. Phil wannabe is one of them.”
Casey recognized the heat of anger in his cool blue eyes and wondered about the nerve she’d stumbled on. “Mia would get a lot out of talking to someone.”
“Talk is cheap.”
“Not at the prices they charge,” she pointed out.
“It’s not the cost I object to.” But he stopped short of saying what he did have a problem with in regard to seeing a counselor. “You get two out of three, Casey. Two evenings and an afternoon off. Any of my social engagements can be scheduled around your commitments.”
“You mean dates?” The words popped out before she even realized the thought had formed.
“Yes,” he confirmed.
“Are you dating anyone?” She really hoped she hadn’t said that out loud, but the way his mouth curved up told her she wasn’t that lucky. That was twice in a matter of seconds that the words were out before going through a rational thought process. It wasn’t something she wanted to make a habit of.
“The only steady woman in my life besides my mother and Mia is an ex-wife I’d rather forget about.”
Her not-so-stealthy recon had produced interesting results. He’d been married. He wasn’t now. And there was no permanent arm candy.
The fact was, that information made her want to smile, a big clue that taking this assignment was a very bad idea.
“And,” he added, “I’m not in the market for a romantic relationship.”
“That makes two of us.”
His eyebrows rose slightly, the only indication that her agreement surprised him. She had good reason for feeling that way. A person needed to trust to be able to form intimate ties and Blake seemed to be lacking in that department. It was something they had in common. A bomb in Iraq had blown her trust to kingdom come, which meant she wouldn’t be forming ties anytime soon, either.
A week later, Blake stared at the stack of completed paperwork on his desk and figured productivity was the happy by-product of having his habitat invaded by females. His new norm was barricading himself in his study, instead of sitting on the couch in front of the TV to watch sports or the news or engage in other mindless entertainment.
Not that he wasn’t using his mental capacity for other things.
One of the reasons he was cutting himself off from the invading females was that Casey had invaded his mind as well as his environment. He stared at the two chairs on the other side of his desk. A week ago she’d sat there and teased him about the way wealthy people lived. Instead of taking offense, he’d been impressed by her sense of humor. She was smart. Still, he knew a lot of smart women and spent little or no time thinking about them.
And flirty ones activated his gold-digger sensors. Casey wasn’t flirty. Just the opposite.
She was clear that she wasn’t interested in anything but a boss-employee relationship. Period. That one intrigued him.
He’d done love once, and the end had been painful and ugly. As a divorce attorney, a successful one, he spent every day representing clients who were looking to end painful and ugly relationships. That made him cautious and determined not to open that door again.
But what was Casey’s story? What had happened to turn her off to romance?
A soft knock on the study door pulled his thoughts back to the moment. “Come in,” he said.
Casey stood in the doorway. “Dinner’s ready.”
No salutation, small talk or frivolous chatter. She was straightforward and to the point. The devil of it was that she couldn’t be further from his type. Her white cotton capris and black sleeveless top were a far cry from the silk and sequins his dates wore. Casey Thomas was all button-down efficiency and he couldn’t stop thinking about unbuttoning her. How stupid was that?
He was her employer and an attorney. Any move in that direction on his part would be inappropriate, not to mention it would open the door for a sexual-harassment lawsuit.
“Blake?”
He met her gaze. “Hmm?”
“I said dinner’s ready. I’m going to get Mia.”
His niece. The whole reason Casey was here. And since he’d hired her, there hadn’t been a single phone call from the school or the police. That made him cautiously optimistic that the new nanny was the solution to the Mia problem. Another excellent reason to continue keeping his distance.
“You and Mia go ahead and eat without me. I have a lot of work to do.”
Instead of backing out of the room, as she’d done every other evening, she advanced on him, and the look in her eyes could best be described as determined.
“We need to talk.”
Four words a man never wanted to hear coming out of a woman’s mouth. Especially when the mouth in question was as kissable as Casey’s. There were about a million things he would rather do with it that didn’t include conversation.
“We’ll schedule a meeting. “I’ve got to get through this stack by tomorrow—”
“You’re here. I’m here. By my definition it’s a meeting.” She sat down in one of the chairs across from him. “And what I have to say won’t take long.”
Definitely determined.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush.”
He’d have been surprised if she did. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.
“Work is not an acceptable excuse for avoidance.”
She knew he was dodging her? Offense was always the best defense. “Six thousand square feet of high-end real estate doesn’t come cheap. It takes billable hours. Keyword hours. I have to put in a lot of them to pay the rent.”
“It’s not about a roof over your head,” she shot back. “This behavior appears to run in the family. Mia has inherited the evasion gene, too.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She’s hiding in her room, the same way you are here in your study.”
“I’m glad to hear she’s hitting the books,” he said, trying to deflect some of the truth.
“How do you know that’s what she’s doing?”
“If she’s in there, what else would she be up to?”
Her wry, pitying look was a clue that his remark was going to bite him in the backside. “She has a computer with Internet access, a cell phone, a house line and a TV. Those are the most obvious electronic devices. And this is a girl who everyone, including herself, admits has had a rocky go of things so far.”
“And your point?”
“Do you seriously believe that a c
ouple of weeks in your high-end real estate has turned her into a disciplined scholar focused on good grades and college goals?”
When she put it like that, he didn’t. The truth was, he hadn’t given Mia a lot of thought at all. Everything with his niece seemed to be under control. Casey was the one he’d spent too much time thinking about.
“You’re saying she has distractions,” he said.
“Yes.”
“So tell me how dinner is going to change things. Especially a dinner with me there.”
“A meal together isn’t just nourishment for the body. It goes a long way toward feeding the soul.”
He tilted his head and studied her serious expression. “Do you really believe that?”
“Completely.”
“Why?”
“Your niece needs to feel stable and secure. A family unit around a dinner table is the best place to start.”
“Why?” he said again.
“It shows you care.”
“Right.” He and his ex-wife, Debra, had eaten together a lot, and he’d found out how much she cared when he caught her in bed with his best friend. “Look, Casey, I appreciate your dedication above and beyond the call of duty, but—”
“That’s not all,” she interrupted. “It’s an opportunity for you to find out what’s going on with her.”
He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the desk. “Just to be clear and make sure we’re on the same page, you are talking about Mia Decker, my niece?”
“Yes.”
“The same one whose default response is, ‘Whatever’? The girl who thinks I’m the dork who’s trying to dump her? That’s the kid you’re talking about?”
“Hostility is a defense mechanism.”
“It’s effective.” He knew a thing or two about hostility.
“The thing is that if you show up and she gets used to you being there, eventually she’ll start talking. Whether she means to or not, she’ll give you clues about what’s going on in her life, good and bad. But communication isn’t all about talking. Listening is an important component. You can’t do that if you’re isolated in this room. For whatever reason.”
His gaze snapped to hers. “So for Mia it’s a defense mechanism, and I’m a head case?”
“That’s not what I said—”
It was implied. “Look, Casey, you’re a soldier slash nanny whose primary responsibility is being my niece’s bodyguard.”
“Blake, I—”
He held up his hand. “The point is that it’s not your job to get into my head. Others have tried and failed.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.” Anger flashed in her eyes as she scooted to the edge of her seat. “Mia has been neglected and left to fend for herself. An expensive roof over her head doesn’t mean it’s not still happening.”
“I repeat, you were hired to keep her safe.”
“I’m paid to do that, but you’re her biological family. She tries to hide it, but like every other human being on the planet, she’s looking for love and acceptance. The more you keep her at arm’s length, the more you reinforce that she’s not lovable. Blake, you have to—”
He held up a finger to silence her. “Don’t tell me what I have to do. She has a place to live. It’s your job to tell me what she needs—food, clothes, school supplies. It’s my job to write the check.”
Anger and something that looked a lot like disapproval swirled in her eyes, making the gold and green flecks that turned to hazel a lot darker. It was almost as if he could see the wheels in her head turning, words pressing to get out. Finally she stood and all but saluted when she snapped out a curt, “Yes, sir.”
And then he was alone.
It should have been a relief, but it definitely wasn’t. Verbal sparring with Casey was the most invigorating thing he’d done in a very long time. He should be mad as hell. In any other employee he’d call it impertinence. But her earnestness had come through loud and clear, erasing any hint of insolence. He believed she was genuinely trying to help, but he didn’t need it. Mia was far better off than she’d ever been in her life and didn’t need him meddling.
He’d made a mess of his own life. Who was he to tell Mia what to do? That was for the nanny. The one with a mouth made for kissing. And a body with curves in all the right places.
The one he couldn’t stop thinking about.
And he wondered, not for the first time, if hiring Casey was as good in reality as it had looked on paper.
Chapter Three
“Boring.”
Casey glanced over at Mia, who was slouched in the front passenger seat of her Corolla. They’d just sat through a college class on Shakespeare’s tragedies, and as tragic as the girl looked, it was quite possible she’d actually absorbed something.
“I’m shocked and appalled that studying Shakespeare doesn’t make you do the happy dance.”
The girl responded with a dramatic eye roll. Casey wished she’d had the luxury of sinking to that level when she confronted her boss about not showing up as agreed so that she could attend class without having to bring Mia along. Blake Decker could have been a bigger ass, but she wasn’t sure how. Actually, that wasn’t true. He was a bigger jerk when he’d told her his only responsibility to his niece was paying the bills.
Casey glanced over at Mia. “If I’m being honest, and I always try, Shakespeare doesn’t excite me much, either. But it’s something I need for my degree and I’ve put it off as long as I can.”
“You didn’t have to drag me along with you. I don’t need a babysitter. I can take care of myself.”
Three whole sentences, Casey thought. Must be a record. Or the kid is really ticked off. “At least you had something to read.”
Mia looked out the window at the Suncoast Hotel marquee as they turned right onto Alta Avenue.
“Is it a book you’re reading for school?” Casey asked, trying to keep her talking.
“No.”
“Wow. Reading for fun. What a concept.”
No verbal response. The only answer was a shoulder lift.
“So,” Casey said, “what’s the book about? And before you shrug, sigh or roll your eyes, remember the polite thing would be to use words.”
Mia glared. “It’s some stupid teenage vampire romance trash.”
“Hmm.” Casey turned the car into the driveway leading to the One Queensridge Place complex and the guard waved as she drove by. “It looked to me like you’re at least halfway through a book that’s five or six hundred pages long. I’m going to guess that you didn’t get that far into it during my hour-long class, so you’ve been at it awhile. Good for you. How did you pick it?”
“Some girls mentioned it.”
“So you’re making friends?” Casey asked.
“No. I heard them talking.”
“Are you reaching out to the girls at school?”
“What’s the point?” Mia looked at her as if she were as dumb as a rock. “I won’t be there that long.”
“Why not? You have a home now, Mia. It’s okay to relax and put down roots. Make friends.”
“He’s going to dump me.”
Her uncle. The same one taking jerk status to new and even lower levels. “That’s not what he told me.” This is where verbal acuity came in handy for creating spin. Casey parked the car and turned off the engine. “He said you’d always have a place to live.” A slight exaggeration of that infuriating conversation.
“Right.” Sarcasm was thick in Mia’s voice. “Wow. I guess I should worship at the altar of Saint Uncle Blake. Except where was he when my mom needed help? Where were her parents?”
“Your grandparents,” Casey said, putting a finer point on it. “Without knowing the facts, it’s hard to comment on your family—”
“They’re not my family. Families are supposed to be there for each other. These people weren’t.”
Casey wanted to sigh, glare, roll her eyes or lift a shoulder in reply, because she didn’t know what to say to t
hat. In a perfect world family would be a support system. But after her own mother died, her father had withdrawn from her. It had been like losing both parents at the same time.
“Family dynamics are complicated, Mia. Your uncle made it clear that you’re to have whatever you need. Money is no object.” That was the best way to spin what he’d said about it being her job to make the list and he’d write the check.
“Don’t go Mary Poppins on me. You see what he’s like. You had a deal with him. He was supposed to be home and take over, but he hung you out to dry. Mom said her family didn’t want her. You do the math.”
Before Casey could think of something reassuring, your basic lie, the girl was out of the car and walking toward the private elevator. Just as well, because Casey hated lies and she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She used her key card to access the top floor and they rode up in silence.
Inside the penthouse Mia disappeared down the hall, and her disappearance was followed closely by the sound of a door closing. Forcefully.
Anger that had simmered when Blake was a no-show earlier now came to a full boil. Casey tracked him down in the kitchen, where he was making a sandwich, and it looked like he hadn’t been there long. The matching suit coat to the charcoal slacks was missing, but he was still wearing his wrinkled white dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled to mid-forearm. The gray-on-black silk tie was loosened, and the first shirt button undone. His dark hair was stylishly tousled or he’d run his fingers through it a lot. Either way, the look worked far too well and was a major distraction when she wanted to be nothing but furious.
She set her notebook and purse on the granite-topped island in the center of the room. “I see you’re no longer missing in action.”
“I knew where I was the whole time.” The words were full of charm and might have distracted her if she weren’t so angry.
“You know what I mean.”
“This was the night of your class. My secretary said she relayed the message that I’d be late.”
“You agreed to my terms,” Casey challenged. “One of which was two nights a week you’d be here so I could go to my class.”
The Nanny and Me Page 3
