by Leanne Banks
Sara raced to meet him. “I need to warn you. Sam was hurt today.”
Gavin blinked. “Is he in the hospital?”
“Oh, no,” she said. “Band-Aids. Antibiotic ointment. He got scraped running after Princess Bridget’s goats.”
Gavin shrugged. “Was he upset?”
“Not remotely,” she said. “He kept saying, I’m okay. I’m okay.”
“Good for him,” he said. “Where is he?”
“In the kitchen,” she said.
Gavin went into the kitchen. “Hey, big guy, how was your day?”
“I chased goats,” Sam said, proudly flashing the Band-Aid on his cheek.
“I hope this incident isn’t the start of a trend,” Sara said.
“Miss Sara almost cried,” Sam said.
“Of course I did. I didn’t want you to be hurt,” she told him.
Sam rolled his eyes. Not even five years old, but he rolled his eyes.
“I think he’s starting to like you,” Gavin whispered.
“We’ll see,” she said, still skeptical. “Would you like some casserole? I can heat it up.”
“What did you eat?” he asked.
“Nothing yet,” she said.
“Casserole for both of us,” he said and sat down at the table with his children.
She warmed up the casserole and they hurriedly consumed it while they entertained the kids. Gavin rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Sara liked him for that. He bathed Sam. She bathed Adelaide and went to the kitchen to get her cup of water.
Gavin met her just before she escaped from the kitchen. He put his hands on her waist and steadied her. “Whoa. Caught you before you went to your room. Is my company that bad?”
Sara sighed. “No. I’m just trying to stay out of trouble.”
Gavin’s eyes darkened. “I’m innocent. Just look at me.”
Sara shook her head. “Not for me.”
He stared into her eyes. “Okay. What if we just sit on the porch and talk? I won’t make any moves on you.”
Sara felt a sliver of disappointment, but chastised herself for the feeling. “That sounds nice,” she said.
Gavin poured two glasses of wine and led her outside to the porch.
Sara vowed to take only a few sips. Being with Gavin affected her far more than it should have.
Gavin took a seat and she followed. “Sounds like it was an interesting day,” he said, swirling the wine in his glass.
“It was,” she said, and she took a sip of the red wine. “Princess Bridget is much calmer than I recalled. I was so upset when Sam got hurt.”
Gavin nodded. “Kids will terrify you.” He paused. “You did well. If you’re not feeling anything, then you’re not living. Sam felt something today. He chased those goats. He felt some joy. That’s rare for him.”
Silence stretched between them. Sara thought about what Gavin had just said. He was right. Sam had been very short on joy most of the time.
“I want him to feel joy much more often,” she said. “But I don’t want him to end up in the hospital because of it.”
Gavin laughed. “We can work on that.”
“How?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” he said, taking a drink of wine. “But I think you made a breakthrough today.”
“With a goat,” she said.
He chuckled, and it was far too sexy to her. “They didn’t have any cattle?”
“Two, but the goats were far more active.”
“They presented more of a challenge. A boy needs a challenge,” he said.
“Well, thank goodness he’s going to preschool tomorrow,” she said.
Another silence passed.
“Thanks for not quitting,” he said.
“Quitting was never a consideration,” she said.
“That fact makes you entirely too tempting to me,” he said.
“Then I’ll remove the temptation and go to bed,” she said. She stood.
“Well, that’s no fun,” he said.
She swallowed her laughter at his comment. “I’m not here to be fun,” she said. “Except at times for the children.”
“Well, damn,” he said.
Sara felt tempted, seduced, amused. Forcing herself to deny it, she pressed her lips together. “Trust me. This is best for everyone. Good night.” She went to her bedroom, facing another night of counting backward from one thousand because five hundred wasn’t working.
* * *
The next night, Gavin arrived home and made sure he wore out the kids. After he and Sara put them to bed, he made sure to block her before she made her way to the bedroom.
“There you are again,” she said. She licked her too-sexy lips.
“Yeah. You’re teaching me,” he said. “You keep trying to disappear.”
“I’m not disappearing,” she said. “I’m just going to sleep.”
“How long does it take you to go to sleep?” he asked.
Sara paused. “Well, Sam does have my sound machine.”
“Good point. I’ve placed an order for one,” Gavin said, sighing. “On a different subject, I’ve been asked repeatedly to attend a palace dinner, but I’ve dodged the invitation so far.”
“You should go,” she said, her eyes bright with encouragement.
“You’ve been invited to come with me,” he said.
She lifted her eyebrows. “Oh, wow.”
He met her gaze, seeing trepidation. He mentally swore, wishing he didn’t feel like a teenager asking a girl out on a date.
“One of the princesses left a message saying she would send someone to watch over the kids,” he said.
“Bridget,” she muttered.
“Well, are you game?” he asked.
She sighed. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.” She met his gaze for a long moment. “But you need to get out,” she said. She took another breath. “So, I’ll do it.”
“Is that a pity response?” he asked.
“Of course not,” she said, but he wasn’t sure if he believed her.
“Hey, I can turn it down. I’ve done it before,” he said. “I just figured if I go once, I won’t have to go again.”
“You shouldn’t turn them down every time. They’ll find it unfriendly,” she said. “I’ll go. We will go. But they’ll probably ask you again. I hear the royal family enjoys visitors, especially Americans since several of them married Americans.”
“You seem to know a lot about them,” he said.
Sara gave a shrug and looked a bit discomfited. “Well, I did my apprenticeship with Princess Bridget. She’s very outgoing and chatty.”
“You have a very interesting background,” he said.
She shrugged again. “It’s not that interesting,” she said. “If I hadn’t had all those different nannies, my upbringing would have been pretty narrow.”
He wasn’t quite satisfied with Sara’s response. Something about her didn’t add up. All those nannies. Her family must have been loaded, and now she was the nanny for his kids?
“And your parents?” he prodded.
“From a different generation. A different era. Times have changed so quickly in the past fifty years. Technology, traditions. Don’t you agree? Aren’t your parents much different than you?”
“I guess so,” he said, thinking of how his divorced parents had moved on with their lives and not wanted to bother with him and the kids after his wife had died. “My dad is busy golfing. My mother is busy playing bridge and traveling, but surprisingly enough, she’s not interested in coming to visit us in Chantaine. I think we’re a little too sad for her. Lauren’s mother died several years ago, and she was never close with her father.”
“That’s unfortunate,” she said. “Your mother is missing out. Even when he’s sad, Sam is a wonder. And Adelaide,” she said, chuckling. “She would rock everyone’s world. On the other hand, your mother may have her own pain and perhaps she just can’t see past it.”
“Insightful,” he
said. “That’s giving her the benefit of the doubt.”
“I find life is much easier when you give people the benefit of the doubt.”
“Where’d you learn that?”
She lifted an eyebrow and shot him a grin. “From one of my many nannies, of course. And now, I’m going to bed.”
“Will you sleep?” he asked as she turned away from him.
“At some point. Good night,” she said and walked away from him, her posture perfectly erect.
Gavin stared after her. She was such a contradiction. Scrubbed clean face, casual clothes, but oh-so proper manners and a restrained attitude. Who was she?
He was much more curious than he should be. At the same time, when he was around her, he felt...more. He’d been dead for what seemed like ages. Far before his wife died. After she passed away, he’d been desperate to bring himself, Sam and Adelaide back to life, and Chantaine had seemed the perfect place. It had turned out much more complicated than he’d expected.
Sam was inching forward, though. Yesterday was a breakthrough even though it had involved scrapes and bandages. Adelaide was far more calm under Sara’s influence. Sara just seemed to spin some sort of magic over all of them. Even him. Even his sad, cynical self, although he still ran from terrible moments of guilt. He still wondered what he could have done to make things turn out differently for his wife and no wave machine would help him sleep through that.
* * *
The following night, Gavin came home dragging, but Sara noticed that he seemed determined to help with the kids. “Let’s do an outside adventure,” he said.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Outside. Do we have to take Adelaide?”
Gavin laughed. “Adelaide is your baby, too. We need to take care of her.”
“But all she does is sit and scoot,” Sam said. “And cry and poop.”
“That’s what you did at her age,” Gavin said.
“I can keep Adelaide while you two go outside,” Sara said.
“No. I’m taking both my kids outside tonight.”
“I already took them outside,” she said. “But I’m sure they would enjoy being out there with you.”
Gavin paused. “You want to come with us?” he asked.
She couldn’t resist his request. “I would love that.”
After a quick diaper change for Adelaide, Sara put the baby in the stroller and urged Sam to take a quick potty break. Moments later, they began their adventure.
“I see something pink,” Gavin said.
“A flower,” Sam said, pointing at a blooming anemone.
“Good,” Gavin said. “What do you see, Sara?”
“I see something gray,” she said, pushing the stroller alongside Sam and Gavin.
“The road,” Sam said. “The road is gray.”
“Good job,” Gavin said. “Your turn, Sam. What do you see?”
Sam looked up. “I see something white and fluffy.”
Gavin glanced at Sara and shared a smile with her. “What’s white and fluffy?”
“The clouds in the sky. I see something green...”
And so it went for the next fifteen minutes. By the time they arrived back at the house, Gavin appeared refreshed and Sam was more relaxed. Adelaide was hungry. She wailed until she was fed, then banged on her tray and spit out her excess food.
Somehow, minutes turned to hours during feeding and bathing and bottles and reading books. Sara washed dishes while Gavin put both children to bed. Just as she was sudsing a frying pan, she felt warmth behind her and a hand join hers in the sink.
“Need some help?” he asked, sliding his hand through hers in the soapy water.
Sara’s heart tripped over itself at the sensation. Dishwater. A man’s hand over hers. Why should that affect her?
“I’m almost finished,” she said, but for just a few extra seconds, she savored the sensation of his fingers laced through hers in the warm water.
She drained the sink and rinsed the last dish, hyperaware of the fact that Gavin stood behind her, his strong body warming the back of hers. He felt so solid, so male. She couldn’t help leaning back against him—just for a quick moment, she told herself.
Out of her peripheral vision, she noticed Gavin grabbing a dish towel to dry his hands. Then he slid his hands across the front of her waist. “You feel so good, Sara.”
He guided her to turn toward him and he lowered his mouth to hers for a long, soulful kiss. “I didn’t know I’d ever feel this way again. I want you,” he told her.
Chapter Five
Sara couldn’t breathe. A dozen emotions roiled through her. Want, need, denial... She closed her eyes, trying to gain control. Shaking her head, she squeezed his hands. “This isn’t a good idea. I shouldn’t. You shouldn’t...”
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not.”
“I’m your employee,” she said, trying to stay firm even though it was all she could do not to lean into him. “I’m caring for your children. My focus needs to be on your children. Not on you. Not on how I feel about—”
“About me?” he asked.
She felt as if she were sinking into his chocolate-brown gaze. Quicksand. She felt as if she were walking in it. She closed her eyes again. “Mr. Sinclair,” she began.
“I’m not Mr. to you,” he said. “I’m Gavin.”
Her heart slamming in her chest, she pressed her lips together and licked them.
“You know I’m right,” he said.
Her stomach twisted. “This is so complicated. I don’t want to mess up things with your children.”
Sara felt Gavin take a deep breath and then exhale. “I get it,” he said. “I don’t want to mess things up for my kids either. I didn’t expect to feel this way.”
“Neither did I,” she said. “It’s probably just the proximity.”
“I don’t know.” He gave a rough chuckle. “I haven’t had this problem with the other nannies.”
The way he looked at her made her heart jump. She had to resist. “Would it be better if I left? If you got a different nanny—”
“Hell, no,” he said. “The kids are getting used to you. I’m not a rabid animal. I can restrain myself. If you can,” he added with a hint of challenge in his eyes.
“Of course,” she said. Of course I can control myself. She always had. It wouldn’t be any different this time.
* * *
The following day, Sara took Sam to preschool and arrived back home to a large number of boxes on the front porch of the cottage. Carrying Adelaide to the pile, she spotted an envelope with her and Gavin’s name on it. She opened it and found a note from Bridget. “A tree and a few holiday trinkets from the palace to make your season merry. All the best, Bridget.”
Sara glanced at Adelaide. “Well, I guess I know what I’ll be doing today.”
Taking Adelaide inside the cottage, she strapped the baby into the infant seat and prayed she would get five to ten minutes to get the boxes inside before Adelaide began to squawk. Adelaide actually gave her more time because she seemed fascinated by Sara rushing in and out the front door.
Sara opened a few of the boxes and laughed at the combination of decorations. An artificial white Christmas tree. “Probably because Chantaine hasn’t seen snow in a century,” she said to Adelaide. She pulled out a wreath with bells, a musical snow globe and ornaments galore. There was even a toy train set.
Just as Adelaide began to squirm and make impatient sounds, Sara put her on her tummy on a play blanket and hoped the baby wouldn’t be acquiring more scooting skills until after the holiday season because there was plenty the tot could get into.
The rest of the morning, Sara alternated between entertaining Adelaide and unpacking boxes. Before she knew it, it was time to pick up Sam from preschool. Bursting with hope and anticipation, she restrained herself. Sam was not at all interested in discussing his time at preschool, so she didn’t force it and put on the radio to keep from blabbing about the Christmas decorations.
When sh
e strode up the porch and flung open the door, she held her breath as she waited for Sam’s excitement. What Sara hoped more than anything was that the Christmas decorations would lift his spirit. She wanted the whole family to feel the joy.
Sam stopped and stared silently at the tree, the train and the boxes. He looked up at her. “The tree should be green,” he said and walked down the hallway to his room.
Sara’s heart sank. She’d been so hopeful. She shook her head at herself. How could a few decorations cause the healing of such a deep wound? She looked at the fake white tree and wondered if she should take it down. She wondered if she should remove all the decorations. Gavin had expressed his disinterest in making a big to-do over the holidays. Maybe she should have listened to him.
Sara took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Maybe she shouldn’t make a snap decision. Why not wait until tomorrow? The only thing she had to lose was Gavin’s scorn. Perhaps both of the Sinclair men would change their minds sooner rather than later.
Sam left his room when she called him for lunch. He was so quiet, the only thing she could hear was his chewing and crunching. As soon as he finished, she engaged him in a dice game in an effort to draw him out.
“Can I watch TV?” he asked.
“May I please,” she corrected.
“Yes,” he said with a nod.
“Repeat it,” she said, biting back a smile.
Sam looked put-upon. “May I please watch TV?”
“After a thirty minute rest,” she said. She’d learned to avoid the word nap because Sam was convinced he was far too old for naps.
“Okay,” he said grudgingly.
Sara put down Adelaide and took advantage of the quiet time by slumping on the sofa and closing her eyes. Funny how the attitude toward naps changed as one grew up a little bit. Shortly, she felt a tug on her arm and glanced up to see Sam looking at her.
“Is rest time over?”
Sara glanced at her watch in surprise. “Why, yes it is. Right on the dot. You may watch an hour of television. Then we’ll take a walk when Adelaide wakes up.”
Sara noticed that Sam seemed to completely ignore the Christmas tree. He didn’t exhibit the tiniest bit of curiosity even in the toy train set. Discouraged, she took care of tasks around the house until Adelaide awakened and she took the children for a walk. She played racing games with Sam to keep it interesting.
