by Ana E Ross
“Oh, okay. Was she sick or something?”
“No. She was killed by a drunk driver,” Michelle said quietly.
“Oh man, Mich. That’s too close to home.”
“You’re telling me. The worse thing is they haven’t found him, yet. As far as Dr. Erik LaCrosse is concerned, every drunk out there is a potential suspect, including my father.”
“Did you tell him about your father?” Yasmine asked.
Michelle sighed and picked up a crystal saltshaker from the breakfast bar and twirled it between her fingers. “What am I supposed to say? By the way, Dr. LaCrosse, my father is a drunk. It’s possible he’s the one who killed your wife.” He’d already formed an opinion about her the moment she stepped out of the cab. She’d had to prove herself fit to take care of his kid, and that still didn’t mean he trusted her completely. He didn’t know anything about her.
“I see what you mean,” Yasmine said. “But what are you going to tell him when he does ask about your family? He will want to know. I’m surprised he hasn’t already asked.”
“I don’t know what I’ll tell him, Yas.” Michelle set the saltshaker back on the counter.
“You know, I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. That man may not be your real father. Neither you nor Robert looks like him.”
“Yas, give it up. Lots of kids don’t look like their fathers or mothers for that matter. You don’t look like your dad. And don’t you think our mother would have said something to Robert if that were the case?”
“Maybe she wanted to, but couldn’t. Maybe he threatened her. You know that temper of his.”
“So if Dwight is not our father, where is our real father?” Michelle asked. “Why hasn’t he been looking for us all these years?”
“I don’t know, Mich. Maybe you should go find out.”
“Yeah, right. You watch too much TV.”
“It’s not TV. It’s the weird cases I come across since I’ve been studying criminal law. You wouldn’t believe the things some people would do for no reason whatsoever. There are thousands of unsolved cases out there.”
“Well, I’m sure there are a lot, but mine isn’t one of them. Bye, Yas.”
After she hung up, Michelle pondered over Yasmine’s question about what she would tell Erik when he asked about her father. One thing she knew was that she could not tell him her father was a drunk, had been since she could remember. Erik would begin to second-guess her character, her ethics, because that’s what people do when they learn you were raised in an unhealthy home environment. If Erik began to question her upbringing, he might be inclined to fire her.
As she slid off the stool and headed up a flight of stairs that led from the kitchen to the second floor, Michelle knew one thing: she would not let Dwight Carter take this job away from her. He had taken enough already.
As to the other matter about Dwight not being her real father, well that was just preposterous.
CHAPTER FOUR
Erik poured himself a mug of coffee and sipped at it as he stared out the kitchen window at the Monadnock Mountains in the distance. Usually after his daily seven-mile run, he’d enjoy his coffee over his edition of The New York Times while the house was as quiet as his thoughts. His thoughts were anything but quiet today. Images of a very beautiful young woman had been running about in his head since yesterday afternoon and he couldn’t make them stop.
He hadn’t even been able to enjoy the play with Precious last night. They had gotten home after midnight—not because the play had run late, but because he’d been too shaken up over that passionate kiss between him and his daughter’s new nanny to come back to the house.
He’d gone to visit his mother, who was always happy to see her only child and grandchild. She was up late, packing for her annual three-week cruise to the Caribbean with her friends, and since she was leaving in two days, she’d assumed he’d come to say goodbye, and didn’t question his late and impromptu visit.
His mother had put her life on hold to help out with Precious while he was searching for Holly’s replacement, so it was no surprise that she’d thrown her hands in the air and exclaimed, “It’s about time, Erik!” when he told her he’d hired a new nanny.
If she only knew the new nanny wasn’t old, but an attractive, irresistible temptress, who’d already managed to wiggle her way under his thick skin, his mother would have brought out the champagne. After all, she’d been badgering him about remarrying and giving her more grandchildren before she was too old to spoil them.
He could tell her that since he had no intentions of marrying again, Precious was the only grandchild she’d ever have and that she should enjoy her all she could. But that would be cruel, so he indulged her and told her she would have all the grandchildren she wanted when he found the right woman, to which she always responded, “Fastidious as you are, that’ll probably never happen. It’s a miracle that Cassie managed to land you.” The woman just could not be pleased, he thought, an affectionate smile spreading across his face.
Erik tensed as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. It was too early for either Mrs. Hayes or Precious to be up, so he knew it was Michelle. She was an early riser, he thought, a bit disconcerted that he’d have to adjust his morning routine just when he’d finally gotten used to it.
He turned when the footsteps halted and a soft gasp echoed behind him. Michelle was standing under the arch separating the kitchen from the dining room. Thank goodness she was fully dressed in jeans and a far less revealing shirt than the one she showed up in yesterday. They looked clean, but a bit rumpled and faded. He hadn’t suggested it, but he hoped she’d go shopping today for the new wardrobe she needed so badly. He’d given her quite a bit more than a month’s salary, and he hoped her pride didn’t get in the way of making herself presentable.
“Hi. Good morning,” she said, her eyes darting around the room as if to confirm they were alone. “Um... I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll go back upstairs until you’re gone.” Her gaze flittered apprehensively over his damp shorts and T-shirt clad body.
What a picture he must make, he thought half amused, even as he marveled at the impeccable smoothness of her bare skin, and the black long lashes flanking those dark sensual eyes. She was one of those lucky women who didn’t need makeup.
He set his empty mug on the table. “Michelle, it’s okay. I was just having coffee. Besides, we need to talk about Precious’ schedule and other things. What better time than when there’s no one else around?”
“You run?”
“Seven to ten miles every day. And I lift weights three days a week at the country club.” He chuckled. “Have to, or else I’ll be as big as your pet bull Calvin. Mrs. Hayes is a wonderful cook, and I love to eat.”
“I noticed that last night.” A faint smile played at the corners of her voluptuous lips, but her eyes remained wary.
She was guarded, Erik thought with a frown. She wasn’t the feisty spitfire that had burst into his study yesterday. Was it their kiss that was coming between them? Damn his blasted libido. “What about you, how do you stay in shape?”
She shrugged. “I walk. When I lost my job and had to give up my car, I learned to use the legs God gave me. But now—”
“Now you have a new job that comes with full medical and dental benefits and a membership to the Amherst Country Club. I take care of my employees, Michelle,” he said with a smile.
“I noticed that. I visited Mrs. Hayes in the guesthouse last night. It’s really nice.”
“Well, she deserves it. Come, sit.” He gestured toward the table. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Please.”
He took his empty mug to the coffee cart that Mrs. Hayes had been preparing every night for eight years. When Cassie was alive, after he returned from running, they would sit at the kitchen table and have coffee and read the newspaper together before he headed out to the hospital. Even after his wife’s death, Mrs. Hayes continued to put out two mugs. This
was the first time in two years that Erik would share his early morning cup of coffee with another person. Holly was a late riser—something he’d been thankful for.
Erik poured a mug for Michelle and refilled his. He opened the drawer of the cart, took out a spoon and set them on a tray. “How do you like your coffee?” he asked.
“Just cream, thanks.”
He got the cream from the fridge, added it to the tray, and took it to the table.
She gazed up with a half smile. “You sure I’m not disturbing you? ‘Cause it looks to me like you had a private thing going here.” She pointed to the unfolded copy of The New York Times on the table. “Some people need their solitude to get them going in the morning. Me, I just jump right into the day and tackle whatever it throws my way.”
Erik grinned at her insightfulness. “It’s a welcome change,” he assured her, easing into the chair across from her. He watched as she picked up the jug and poured the cream into the coffee. He loved the way her slender brown fingers with the red painted nails enfolded the long white jug. Sexy fingers. He could just imagine them wrapped around his hard shaft.
“Did you sleep okay on your first night here?” He took a sip from his mug, grateful for the hot bitter sting to keep his thoughts from traveling down a salacious path. Everything about the woman made him think of sexual acts. He never realized he was this sexually deprived.
She shrugged. “I have to get used to sleeping in a strange house and bed, I suppose. You were out late,” she added. “I turned in around midnight, and you still weren’t home yet. That must be the longest running play in history.” She took a careful sip of coffee, closing her eyes briefly as she swallowed the hot liquid.
“Actually, the play ended around nine then we went for ice cream, and finally ended up at my mother’s.”
“Does she live around here?”
“About fifteen minutes away. You’ll probably meet her soon,” he added with a hint of dread at that meeting. His mother wasn’t one to hold her tongue. She spoke her mind, and if she thought he and Michelle were perfect for each other, she’d come right out and say it. Come to think of it, Michelle was a lot like her. She’d probably make Michelle her new best friend, just to annoy him.
“Precious will probably sleep late,” he said. “You should wake her soon after I leave, or it would put a strain on her schedule today.”
“Is she in boot camp? Will she be court-marshaled for skipping duty? Lighten up, Erik. She’s only seven years old. It’s summertime. She really shouldn’t have a schedule. She’ll survive sleeping in one day. I was a kid once. Trust me.”
Trust her. He couldn’t even trust himself. “You know, I know nothing about you,” he said lightly. “Yesterday, I hired you to look after my daughter then I came on to you, for which, again, I deeply apologize. All I know is that you are good for my daughter.” And a damn good kisser.
“Isn’t the fact that I’m good for Precious enough?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“What else do you want to know?”
“Just the necessary facts.” Erik leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. His eyes assessed her softly. He wondered if she had a man in her life, and if she had sex with him on a regular basis, and in what positions she took him. Judging from the sexy sounds she made while he kissed her last night, he knew she could make a man forget everything but the softness of her delicate yielding body. Erik’s jaws tightened at the image of Michelle’s long legs wrapped around the waist of a nameless faceless man. Jealousy cruised through him.
“I am twenty-four,” Michelle said. “You already know from my resume that I have a bachelor’s degree, and you’re aware of my past employment record. I’ve never been arrested. I love music, dancing, aerobics, and of course, children I adore.
“Any family besides your older brother?” He already knew her mother had passed away, but she didn’t know that he knew.
“My mother died minutes after I was born. I never knew her. All I know about her is what Robert told me.”
“I’m sorry about your losing your mother, but it does give you something in common with Precious. At least she had a chance to know hers, even if it was only for a very short time. I’m afraid that as she gets older, those memories will fade.”
“Only if you let them. Even though I never knew my mother, I feel very close to her because of what Robert told me about her.”
“What about your father?”
“He’s dead, too.” Michelle coughed, choking on the mouthful of coffee she’d taken before he popped the question. She reached for a napkin and pressed it to her mouth. She couldn’t believe she’d just told the man a blatant lie. Up until this moment, she’d been an honest, truthful person. Of course, she’d told little harmless lies in jest before, but she’d never lied about anything so important.
She set the mug on the table and starred at Erik. She couldn’t very well take it back now. Dwight Carter had been dead to her for years. But from this moment forward, he was also dead to the rest of the world.
“When did he die?” Erik asked.
“Some years ago,” she answered simply, trying to avoid a specific date she would have to remember. God, what had she done? “And if you don’t mind, I prefer not to talk about him.”
Erik frowned at the bitterness in her voice and the hostility in her eyes. Yesterday, when Mrs. Hayes told him that Michelle’s mother died when she was born, and how she used to look out for a little Michelle and Robert, he’d sensed that there was something else the old lady wasn’t telling him. Did it have something to do with her father? Had the man abused her? What on earth could a father have done to his daughter to make her hate him so much, even beyond the grave?
He’d had a sheltered and happy childhood, and although his parents weren’t married, they had both loved and cared for him. Something in Michelle’s eyes told him she hadn’t been that lucky.
“Is there anyone special in your life, Michelle?” He just had to know if there was someone out there she turned to when the sad memories of the past made her blue. Well, in all fairness these were the type of questions he would have asked yesterday before he hired her if he hadn’t been sidetracked by her beauty, sassy mouth, and provocative attire.
She gave him a sidelong glance and asked rather cheekily, “You mean like a man?”
“Yes, like a man.” You wanted somebody older, someone unattached. That’s why you’re asking, he told himself.
She folded her arms across the tabletop and looked him squarely in the eye. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know what to think. That’s why I’m asking.” Boy, his curiosity had gone way past the need-to-know interview stage. When had this line of questioning become so individual, so personal?
“Why is it important?” She licked her lips slowly as she boldly held his gaze.
Erik rested his elbows on the table and laced his fingers under his chin as he studied her face. This cat and mouse game they were playing sent a hot tide of wanting through him. He’d never had to dance to this catch and release beat before. He’d known Cassie since they were teenagers. There had never been anyone else for either of them. This was all new to him.
Just who was the cat and who was the mouse here?
“It is important because the last nanny got married and resigned,” he said with a patronizing edge to his voice. “That’s the reason I wanted someone older. I don’t care to put Precious through another loss anytime soon. I’m sorry if you think my question is too personal, but I’m just looking out for my daughter’s best interest.” And the thought of another man kissing you, holding you the way I did last night is driving me out of my mind.
Michelle let out a long slow breath and lowered her gaze to the coffee in her mug. Erik’s grilling was getting a little too uncomfortable for her, especially the questions about her father. At least that boat had come to shore without capsizing.
After her talk with Yasmine, she’d gone down to the
guesthouse to catch up on old times with Mrs. Hayes. During the conversation, Michelle had discovered that Cassandra Elizabeth LaCrosse had been killed months after Michelle’s father had ruined her own life and disappeared from Manchester.
Since he was hundreds of miles away at the time, it wasn’t even remotely possible that he could have committed the crime. Mrs. Hayes had also told her that the doctor and his wife were very much in love and that Cassie’s death had changed Erik drastically from a happy, sociable family man to a grim workaholic who hardly spent any time at home. No wonder he’d been so aloof when she first met him, yesterday. Yet, she had to admit that something had changed in him by the end of the evening when he unexpectedly and passionately kissed the breath out of her. The man definitely had a volatile temperament, a trait she should pay careful attention to.
She’d heard him come in last night or more precisely, early this morning. As he’d put Precious to bed in the room next door, she’d fought the desire to get up and help since that was her job. But the memories of their hot kiss had kept her in bed. She wondered if it were the memories that had kept him from returning home last night.
It was a pretty embarrassing situation for both of them.
She wasn’t ready to face him last night, nor this morning for that matter. She’d come downstairs to make a cup of coffee, hoping to escape back to her room without running into him. Yet, here they were in his kitchen—she in jeans and a T-shirt, mussed hair, and sleepy eyes, and he in a sleeveless jersey and running shorts, showing off his long strong limbs and muscular torso, and armed with a litany of questions about her personal life.
He had the right to probe her about her family background since he’d hired her to take care of his daughter. He had the right to know if she were psychologically and emotionally fit. And the one about her personal relationship with the opposite sex was quite legit, now that he’d explained his reason for asking.
She brought her gaze back to his. “If there was a man in my life, Erik LaCrosse, I would not have kissed you last night. I don’t mess around. When I’m with a man, I’m with him only. I hope that answers your questions.”
