The Maid, the Millionaire and the Baby

by Michelle Douglas

  ‘And while George is here, you might need to...’

  He raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Lower your standards of cleanliness.’

  He blinked.

  ‘If I’m looking after George for part of the day and night, I’m not going to have the same amount of time to devote to cleaning your house.’

  ‘That’s fine with me.’ In fact, it was more than fine. ‘Ms Hartley, you’ve vacuumed and dusted these rooms every day since you arrived. Now far be it from me to question your work practices—I’ve never been to housekeeping school, so I don’t know what the norm is—but don’t you think vacuuming every day is overkill? I’m tidy in my habits, don’t tramp mud into the house on a regular basis, and don’t have children or dogs—’ He broke off to glance at the baby in her arms. ‘I don’t usually have children or dogs to stay.’

  ‘But Aunt Katherine said you had the highest expectations when it came to—’ She broke off, biting her lip.

  What on earth had Katherine been telling her niece?

  He pushed the thought away. He had more pressing concerns at the moment. ‘I’m happy to relax the current cleaning standards.’ He pulled in a breath. ‘There’s just one other little problem in your proposed plan.’

  ‘Which is?’

  His stomach churned. ‘I don’t have the first idea about babies. I don’t have a clue how to feed them or what to feed them or how to prepare whatever it is that you do feed them. I’ve never changed a nappy. The thought doesn’t fill me with a great deal of enthusiasm, admittedly, but evidently it’s a chore I’m not going to be able to avoid. And precisely how do you bathe a baby without drowning it? Don’t they get slippery and hard to hold? That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, if you ask me.’

  She smiled, the green sparks in her eyes dancing, and the impact of it hit him in the middle of his chest, making his heart thump.

  ‘I can teach you all of those things easy-peasy. But there are a couple of other things you’ll need to learn too, like cuddling and playing. Both are vital to a baby’s development.’

  Before he knew what she was about, she’d leaned forward and set the baby on his lap, and he wanted to yell at her to take him back. But recalled, just in time, that he wasn’t supposed to yell around the baby. He wanted to shoot to his feet and race away. But he couldn’t because he had a lap full of baby.

  He wasn’t sure how the kid would’ve reacted if he’d been fully awake—with a loud verbal protest he suspected—but, drowsy as he was, he merely nestled in against Jasper’s chest. The warm weight made his heart thud, made him wonder when was the last time he’d actually touched someone? Hell! He—

  ‘Stop frowning,’ she chided gently from where she’d moved to kneel in front of him, adjusting his arm so it went fully around the baby with his hand resting on the child’s tummy. ‘We don’t want George glancing up and being frightened out of his wits by the scary man glaring at him.’

  The thought that he could so easily frighten his nephew sickened him.

  ‘I mean, that’s hard enough for a grown-up to deal with.’

  Her voice held laughter, but that didn’t stop his gaze from spearing hers. ‘I’m sorry I scared you earlier. I really didn’t mean to.’

  ‘I know that now. I overreacted, but—’

  He looped his fingers around her wrist. ‘Never apologise for trusting your instincts and being cautious. It’s better to feel a little foolish than it is to get hurt—every single time. No exceptions.’

  She stared at his hand on her wrist and nodded. She’d gone very still. Had he frightened her again? He didn’t hold her tightly. She could move away at any time... Her tongue snaked out to moisten her lips and something hot and sweet licked along his veins.

  He let her go in an instant.

  She eased away, colour high on her cheekbones. ‘Do you mind if I check the bags?’ She gestured to the muddle of bags that apparently came with a baby.

  ‘By all means. Are you looking for anything in particular?’ If she took the baby back he’d look for her.

  ‘George’s schedule.’ He must’ve looked clueless because she added, ‘Feed times, nap times...those sorts of things.’

  He tried to do what she was doing—focussing on the situation with the baby rather than that moment of...

  He didn’t know what to call it. A moment of awareness that had taken them both off guard. He pulled in a breath and counted to ten.

  Emotions were running high, that was all. He was holding his nephew, for heaven’s sake. A nephew he’d thought he’d never get to meet, let alone hold. It was making him hyper-aware of everything. What he didn’t need to notice at the moment, however, was the silkiness of his housemaid’s skin or the shininess of her hair. He gritted his teeth. Or the beguiling shape of her mouth.

  He forced his gaze to the baby who, with half-closed eyes, continued to suck on his dummy with a kind of focussed fierceness. His chest clenched. What kind of unfairness or...or whim had turned this little guy’s life upside down? The innate fragility and helplessness of the baby, the sense of responsibility that suddenly weighed down on him, had his former panic stirring. How could he do this? How—?

  ‘I didn’t go to housekeeping school either,’ Imogen said out of the blue. ‘Just so you know. In case you hadn’t worked that out for yourself yet.’

  She sat cross-legged on the rug, going methodically through each of the bags. And she was telling him this because...?

  ‘I wouldn’t want you accusing me at some distant point in the future of being here under false pretences.’

  He recalled how she’d puffed up earlier when she’d thought he’d been slighting her intelligence. Did she feel lesser because she’d not been to the right school or wasn’t properly qualified or something? Focussing on her issues was certainly better than focussing on the baby he held. ‘It doesn’t necessarily follow that you’re not a hard worker, though, right?’

  ‘Exactly!’ Her smile was so bright it could blind a man. He blinked but he couldn’t look away. And then she grimaced. ‘I don’t have the subservient thing down pat yet, though.’

  His lips twitched. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’

  ‘Ooh.’ Her grin widened and she pointed a finger at him. ‘You just made a joke.’

  He ignored that. Making jokes at the moment was no doubt highly inappropriate. For heaven’s sake, he was holding a baby. ‘Ms Hartley, let me put your mind at rest. I trust Katherine’s judgement.’

  ‘Even though I’m family?’

  She’s a bit flighty and irresponsible.

  He didn’t see any evidence of that. ‘Even then,’ he said. He spoke without hesitation. He’d trust Kate with his life. He knew she was keeping secrets from her family, but they were harmless enough. He couldn’t blame her for protecting her privacy when he’d all but exiled himself to a remote island.

  She’s a bit flighty and irresponsible. He suspected Kate had lied about that to put an invisible wedge between him and her niece. He didn’t blame her for wanting to protect Imogen from a man like him. He didn’t consider himself a good prospect either.

  Imogen halted from her rifling of bags. ‘I want to apologise for my rudeness earlier.’

  She’d been rude?

  ‘I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that for calling me stupid.’

  ‘I did not call you stupid.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  She’d only been responding to his rudeness. ‘I shouldn’t have been so short with you.’

  One shoulder lifted. ‘I’m a bit sensitive on the subject, and I shouldn’t have flared up like that.’

  He stared at her for a moment. ‘Why are you sensitive?’

  She ducked her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  He had a feeling it mattered a great deal.

  He wasn’t sure what she saw in his
face when she glanced back up, but whatever it was had her heaving out a sigh. ‘I don’t think I’m stupid, Mr Coleman. I know I’m not. I’m just a bit sensitive about it at the moment because last week, before I came here, I ran into an old boyfriend—my high-school sweetheart.’

  From the look on her face he’d been anything but a sweetheart.

  ‘When he found out I had no plans to go to university—like him—he told me I was...’

  ‘Stupid?’

  ‘I believe the words he used were uneducated yokel.’ She shrugged. ‘Naturally I kicked his sorry butt to the kerb.’

  ‘Smart move.’

  ‘But, you know, that was seven years ago, and people grow up, so when I saw him last week I said hello.’ Her lips thinned. ‘That wasn’t quite so smart.’

  A hard ball settled in the pit of his stomach. ‘He called you stupid again?’

  ‘Implied it.’

  What a jerk! ‘Why?’

  She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  He didn’t believe that for a moment.

  ‘I’m not stupid and what I’m doing with my life isn’t stupid or risky. It’s just...his voice has wormed its way inside my head, and I haven’t been able to shake it. I’m sorry you were the one who had his head snapped off, though.’

  ‘I have broad shoulders.’ He shrugged. ‘And if you want the truth, I came back early from my run to apologise for being so grumpy.’

  She folded her arms and stared at him. ‘You know what? You’re not the slightest bit difficult or temperamental.’

  What on earth had made her think he was?

  Katherine. The answer came to him swiftly. Katherine didn’t want him messing with her niece, and he had no intention of giving the older woman cause for concern. He might not be difficult and temperamental, and Imogen might not be flighty and irresponsible. But their lives were poles apart. And he had every intention of keeping them that way.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE MYRIAD EXPRESSIONS that chased themselves across Jasper’s face pierced Imogen with unexpected force. Her heart beat too hard—a pounding that rose into her throat and made it ache.

  She didn’t bother tempering the sympathy that raged through her. She doubted she’d be successful even if she tried. He’d stared at his nephew with a mixture of such shock and wonder, pain and hope and desolation, that it had almost overwhelmed her. She understood the shock and the hope, but not the pain and desolation. And certainly not the fear.

  A bit of panic—yes.

  Worry and anxiety—absolutely.

  But not that bone-crushing fear that had seemed to be directed both inwards and outwards at the same time. She’d been desperate to rid him of that expression, so she’d overshared. Again.

  But that was better than staring at his awful expression and doing nothing about it. The lines fanning out from serious grey eyes were still strained and the grooves bracketing his mouth were still deep, but he no longer looked so worn or overwhelmed.

  The grey of those eyes was quite extraordinary. She’d never seen eyes like them—silver in some lights, they held a hint of blue in others, but could deepen to charcoal and concentrate so intensely you felt spotlighted...and seen, really seen.

  ‘All right, Ms Hartley, let’s try your suggestion and see if, between the three of us, we can manage. I’ll increase your and your aunt’s salaries for as long as the baby is here and—’

  ‘Oh, that’s not necessary.’ He was already paying her a generous salary.

  ‘You’ll both be taking on extra duties and I have no intention of taking advantage of your good natures. We’ll do things by the book. You’ll be compensated accordingly.’

  He wanted this to be a work arrangement, rather than a favour between friends. Which suited her fine because they weren’t friends. She recalled the awful expression that had overtaken his face and couldn’t help thinking that the one thing Jasper Coleman could do with at the moment, though, was a friend.

  She glanced at George, noting the way he worried at his dummy. ‘He’s due for his bottle.’

  ‘You’d better take him, then.’

  She suspected that if he’d had more confidence in handling babies, he’d have simply handed him over, and she’d have had no choice but to take him. As it was, he stared at her expectantly, evidently expecting her to obey him immediately, and she had to fight her instant response to do exactly that. ‘I will, but first I want to make a request.’

  His brows rose. Yep. He’d expected her to jump to do his bidding immediately.

  It’s what he’s paying you for, Imogen.

  ‘Is it possible for us to drop the Mr Coleman and Ms Hartley and call each other by our first names? I know I’m only a housemaid with a promotion to a third of a nanny’s position while you’re a genius billionaire, but I can promise you I won’t forget the distinction. The thing is, I’ve never worked in an environment that maintained such formalities, and I just know I’m going to slip up and call you Uncle Jasper to little George here at some point. “Go to Uncle Jasper, Georgie,”’ she sing-songed to demonstrate what she meant. ‘It’d be really nice if we could eliminate that worry right now.’

  She couldn’t work out if he was trying not to smile or trying not to frown.

  ‘You don’t look particularly worried, Ms Hartley.’

  Was that a no? ‘I can assure you that I’m shaking on the inside.’

  She bit back a sigh when he didn’t smile. Mind you, he didn’t frown either. She tried again. ‘You and my aunt call each other by your first names. I promise not to take any liberties just because we move to a more informal mode of address.’

  He stared at her for several long seconds. ‘Are you familiar with the movie The Sound of Music?’ he finally asked.

  ‘Intimately.’ It was one of her favourites. ‘An oldie but a goodie.’

  ‘I’m vividly reminded of the moment in the film where the captain asks Maria if she was this much trouble at the abbey.’

  A bark of laughter shot out of her. ‘And she answers, “Oh, much more, sir.”’ She glanced at the baby in his arms. ‘I have to say I’m very glad you weren’t just landed with seven children.’

  As if they couldn’t help it, his lips lifted. Her pulse shimmied and all the fine hairs on her arms Mexican-waved.

  ‘Very well, Imogen, first names it is. Perhaps now you’ll be good enough to take the baby?’

  He angled the side holding the baby towards her, and she moved closer, ordering various parts of herself to stop tripping the light fantastic. ‘Hey there, beautiful boy.’ George came willingly, but not before Imogen had sucked in a deep breath of Jasper-scented air.

  He smelled of the sea and the sweat from his run and something darker and spicier, like cardamom. The smell of sweat especially should’ve had her nose wrinkling, but it didn’t. She edged away before she could be tempted to drag in another appreciative lungful.

  His sister’s letter still sat unopened on the arm of the sofa. Why hadn’t he torn it open and devoured its contents yet? She adjusted her weight from one leg to the other. ‘May I make a suggestion?’

  ‘You may.’

  ‘I think you should read your sister’s letter. And before you accuse me of taking those liberties that I promised I wouldn’t, I want to assure you that I’m not trying to pry. Your family’s concerns are none of my business. But we need to know if George has any medical issues or medications that he’s taking or any allergies.’ She lifted the schedule of feeding and nap times she’d found in the same bag that held some ready-made bottles of formula. ‘None of those things are mentioned here, which probably means that there’s nothing to worry about,’ she added quickly at the look of absolute horror that passed across his face. ‘But with knowledge being power and all that,’ she finished on a weak shrug.

  Surely no mother would send her baby somewhe
re so remote—so far from medical facilities—if he had a known medical condition like asthma, though. At least...not a good mother. She glanced at the baby in her arms. Sympathy, compassion, pity and foreboding all churned in her stomach. Why on earth would any mother send her child away? Was Jasper’s sister a good mother or—?

  ‘Why are you frowning, Imogen?’

  She started. ‘Oh, I...’

  ‘I’d rather know. Especially if it pertains to the baby.’

  He hadn’t called the baby by his name yet—not once. What was that about? Though she wasn’t silly enough to ask that question either...yet.

  ‘Your sister would tell us if there were any issues we should be aware of where George is concerned, right?’

  She waited for him to reassure her. He didn’t. His shoulders didn’t slump, but it felt as if they ought to, that they were only remaining in place due to some superhuman effort on his behalf. ‘I don’t know. My sister and I have been estranged for the last two years.’

  Why?

  She didn’t ask that either. He didn’t look as if he had the heart for it. She focussed her attention on the baby instead. ‘How about we make a pact, little George? While you’re here you’re only going to get all good things. What do you say to that?’

  He spat out his dummy and gave a grumpy grunt that reminded her so much of his uncle it made her laugh. ‘I’m glad we got that sorted. It’s going to be nothing but sun and fun and kisses and cuddles and good times, right?’

  He nodded, copying her, and he looked so darn cute she found herself automatically swinging back to Jasper to share the moment. She found him staring at them with an arrested expression on his face, and it had her smile freezing and all of that shimmying and Mexican-waving happening all over again.

  She had to get that under control because that wasn’t going to happen here. Instinct told her that if Jasper thought for a single solitary second that she was attracted to him, he’d boot her off his island faster than she could sew a side seam. She couldn’t let that happen until she’d found out what was troubling Katherine.