When She's Bad

by Leanne Banks

  “The percentages are on our side. It may take more than a few interviews, but eventually a good nanny will walk through that door.”

  Stuck on his use of the word our, she blinked. Our, as if he was in this with her. As if she weren’t alone. As if she could count on him. Dangerous thought, she told herself.

  She pulled herself together. “I can only hope.”

  He pointed at her suit. “Looks like you’ve been busy this morning. You went to work?”

  She nodded. “Business emergency. I also went to Wal-mart. I bought all their diapers and some other things. Speaking of which, would you mind bringing them up from my car? I’ll wait here with Willy, but the swing is poking out of one of my windows and it looks like rain.”

  He chuckled and nodded. “No problem. How bad was the business emergency?”

  “On a scale of one to ten?” she asked. “Fifty.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “What could be that bad at a spa? Did someone fry somebody’s hair?”

  She shook her head, not wanting to reveal the fact that Benjamin’s brother was dating her business partner. The connection was sure to provoke a sticky discussion. “I’m not sure I have the words for it. I don’t want to swear in front of the baby. Bad habit of mine,” she said, feeling oddly nervous as he moved closer to her. “One of many.”

  “You’re a woman of many bad habits?” he asked.

  Her silly heart went pitter-patter. His eyes were too sexy. “Many,” she repeated. “Swearing, eating M&Ms, drinking coffee, drinking champagne cocktails.”

  “Saving lives and taking responsibility for babies.”

  “Baby,” she quickly corrected breathlessly. She could smell his aftershave. He was way too close. He should move back five feet. Fifty feet. “One baby.”

  “I haven’t figured you out. Half the time you come off like you’re a hard-hearted, superficial—”

  He broke off and she filled in the blank for him. “Bitch,” she said. “I believe the word you’re looking for is bitch.”

  “I think that’s just a cover.”

  Oops. A little too close. “No it’s not. I’m actually a bitch.”

  He shook his head slightly, studying her. “No. And the bad-girl image.”

  “Oh that,” she said, waving her hand in a dismissing gesture. “It’s not an image. I was born with it. My father said I was the spawn of a devil and angel, but the devil won.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Was he the devil?”

  She opened her mouth then closed it, blinking at the possibility. “What an interesting thought. My father is a professional evangelist, so I’m sure he believes that he was the angel.”

  “Then why did he tangle with the devil?”

  “Oh, it’s always the devil’s fault,” she said, still feeling nervous about the look in his eyes. She needed to eliminate his curiosity, the almost sexual interest. It made her jittery. “He said my mother tempted him with her earthly wiles. Quick and dirty story is he was a freshly graduated frat boy who hadn’t sown enough wild oats. He went into business with the owner of the local bar where we lived, fell head over butt for my mother when she won a wet T-shirt contest. His mother, however, literally suffered a stroke when she learned her boy was playing around with a single-mother floozy. Guilt-ridden, he repented of his sins by ditching my mother and entering seminary. My mother exacted her revenge by naming me Delilah and neglecting to tell him that he had become a father. So you could say I was born and bred to be a bad girl.”

  “Your mother was a single mother before she had you?” he asked.

  Delilah nodded, certain the truth would offend and horrify him. “Yes. She was quite proli—” She searched for the word. It had been one of her words of the day last week. “Prodig—” She frowned.

  “Prolific, prodigious—”

  She nodded again. “Prodigious. Probably prolific too. Fertile would also work. Four children by four men.”

  He didn’t appear nearly as shocked as she’d expected. He still had that curious, sexually intent look. She’d seen it before a million times, so she knew. “Totally different world than yours. Totally different kind of woman than you’re used to,” she said, heavily hinting that he should take his interest elsewhere.

  “I’ve had a relationship with a certain type of woman and it didn’t work out. Maybe I should try a different kind of woman.”

  She shook her head. “Oh, don’t even think about it. You’re used to French champagne and trust me darlin’ I am domestic to the bone. Think pedigreed French poodle versus mixed breed. You wouldn’t know what to do with me if you had me, and once you had me, you wouldn’t be able to get rid of me fast enough.”

  She saw a hint of challenge light his eyes and bit back an oath. Oh, crap, she’d awakened the sleeping giant that lurked beneath the skin of almost every proper white boy.

  He leaned closer to her and touched his finger to her mouth. “You could be right that I’m used to French champagne. You could be right that I’ve spent too much time with pedigreed women.” He rubbed his finger over her lips in a sensual motion that made her want to slide her tongue over his bold finger. Holding her breath, she resisted.

  “But you could be wrong when you say that if I had you,” he said in a deep velvet voice that felt far too intimate, “I wouldn’t know what to do with you.”

  She felt her body respond in ways it hadn’t responded in months. Swallowing over her surprise that a good boy like Benjamin could generate such heat, she took a step back, determined to cover her reaction. “That’s not something I want or need to know.”

  “That could change.”

  Willy let out a wail. Delilah smiled. “Not likely.” Not with Willy the ultimate sexual mood-killer in residence. Strange as all get out, but it looked as if Willy could protect her from the wiles of Benjamin until he felt he’d repaid his debt of honor to her and got the heck away from her.

  Benjamin spent the afternoon baby sitting. When the clock passed five P.M., he got an uncomfortable feeling that Delilah would be late. The image of her going out and forgetting to return for Willy made him itchy. After all, she had emphasized that she was a bad girl. He and Willy had gotten along fine, but Benjamin didn’t want to spend the night with the baby.

  No sooner had the disturbing thoughts slithered through his mind like a serpent than Delilah burst through the door surrounded by the aroma of Chinese food and carrying bags from the grocery store and Chinese take-out.

  “Nothing fancy,” she said to Benjamin. “But I thought you might need some sustenance after hours with Wild Willy. How was he?” she asked warily.

  “One diaper change and a nap,” Benjamin said with a shrug as he took some of the bags from her. “He was easy.” He pulled out two boxes of baby cookies and shook his head. “You’re not really planning on giving these to Willy, are you?”

  “Well, I wasn’t planning on eating them myself. Although I won’t make any promises,” she said with a mischievous grin.

  “Too much sugar,” Benjamin said, shaking his head again. “Bad for his teeth, bad for his mood.”

  “He doesn’t have that many teeth yet,” Delilah pointed out. “And his mood isn’t that great either.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You can rot his teeth out before they’re through the gums.”

  She gave him a double-take. “How do you know so much about this?”

  “I turned on the baby channel while Willy was taking a nap.”

  She gave him a look that mixed curiosity, amusement and entirely too much sex appeal. She shook her head. “Not every man could stand there and say he’d watched the baby channel and still look like a stud.”

  “What does watching the baby channel have to do with my—” He didn’t want to say the stupid word.

  “I don’t know. Studs just seem to be more interested in other things on television.”

  “Like the World Wrestling Federation?” He laughed. “You can put the intellectual value of that show at minus—”


  “I watch wrestling.”

  He blinked. “Why?”

  “I like the bodies,” she said, lifting her hands and moving her fingers as if she were stroking imaginary bodies. “Muscles. Probably a primitive thing. You wouldn’t understand,” she said in a smoky voice that made him want to pull at his collar.

  “So that’s the kind of guy you’re into?” he asked. “All brawn and no brain.”

  “I like a man who’s open to suggestion, my suggestion,” she said and touched her tongue to her lip as she emptied the bags.

  Her mouth was plump and rosy and it was too easy to imagine those lips of hers wrapped around his— His body reacted to the graphic image and he mentally swore. “Some women are turned on by men who can take charge.”

  She nodded. “That’s been a weakness of mine every now and then, too, but I just keep reminding myself that taking charge can equal controlling, dominating. About the cookies, here’s the deal. The cookies are here in case of emergency.”

  “What constitutes an emergency?”

  “Stop acting like a lawyer. That’s to be decided later. Do you like cashew shrimp?”

  “Yes.”

  “Me too, so you’ll have to fight me for it,” she said and pulled out a bottle of beer. “Corona with a lime okay for you?”

  “No Dom Perignon?” he teased.

  “Not around here,” she said and pulled a bottle of budget bubbly from the bag. She put boxes of rice and oat cereal along with a dozen jars of baby food on the kitchen counter, then mixed a cocktail for herself and cut a lime for Benjamin’s beer.

  “Isn’t Chinese food and a champagne cocktail a strange combination?” he asked as he accepted the beer she offered and joined her at the small table in the kitchen.

  “A champagne cocktail goes with any food, any meal. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Dessert and in the Jacuzzi.”

  “Except you’re not supposed to drink while you’re in the Jacuzzi.”

  She smiled. “I’m not supposed to do a lot of things. Have you always been such a stickler for rules?”

  “A lot of the time,” he said, but Delilah made him rethink some of those rules on a minute-by-minute basis. “Have you always been determined to break the rules?”

  “Pretty much,” she said. “But you must remember that a rule breaker gave birth to me. It’s in the genes,” she confided. The phone rang and she picked it up. “Hello?”

  Her eyes widened. “Nanny Finders. You want to send over an applicant now? That’s fine. But did you tell her we’re using cloth diapers?” Delilah nodded. “Good. I’ll be looking for her.” She hung up the phone. “The answer to our prayers could be walking through that door any minute.”

  In fact, minutes later, a stout woman who looked around sixty-something strode through the door with an umbrella in her hand. “I’m Mrs. Heidelkin from Nanny Finders. Are you Miss Montague?”

  “I am. Please come in. Willy’s just waking up from his nap,” Delilah said.

  Mrs. Heidelkin eyed her watch. “That’s much too late for a nap. You’ll have a difficult time getting him down for the night. Babies require a strict schedule.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. We’re in a transition phase right now,” Delilah said as she scooped up Willy and put him in her newly purchased high chair. She pulled out a jar of baby food green beans.

  Mrs. Heidelkin turned up her nose. “I make the baby food from scratch. More nutritious.” She saw the cookies on the counter. “And no cookies. Terrible for their teeth and makes them hyper.”

  Delilah slid a sideways glance at Benjamin.

  “Is this Mr. Montague?” Mrs. Heidelkin asked.

  “Mr. Huntington,” Benjamin corrected the woman. “I’m Miss Montague’s neighbor.”

  Mrs. Heidelkin nodded. “I’m glad I won’t have to deal with any men. Men don’t know anything about child-rearing.”

  Delilah met Benjamin’s gaze again and her lips twitched. “You have some definite opinions.”

  “Years of experience. Years.”

  “Tell me about your experience,” Delilah said as she spooned the baby food into Willy’s mouth.

  “I raised three of my own children and have been nanny to two other children for ten years each. I thought about retiring, but Nanny Finders told me you don’t need someone to stay overnight. I can’t abide working with men though. I don’t like them.”

  “Would it bother you that Willy is male?” Benjamin asked, finding the woman’s antipathy toward men grating.

  “Oh, no,” she said sweetly. “This way I get them young and teach them the right way. My boys are just as obedient and docile as the girls.”

  “It’s getting late. Did you want to ask Mrs. Heidelkin anything else?” Benjamin asked Delilah, but gave a slight shake of his head.

  She paused. “You’re right. Thank you so much for coming, Mrs. Heidelkin. I’ll be in touch with the agency if I have any further questions.” Delilah passed the baby spoon to Benjamin, then led Mrs. Heidelkin to the door.

  “You can’t hire her. She’s a man hater.”

  “I know. She might chop Willy’s weewee off if I leave him alone with her. This nanny’s agency isn’t putting out like I’d hoped.”

  Benjamin was still stuck on Delilah’s colorful description of Willy’s potential emasculation. He tried to imagine those words coming from his former fiancée’s mouth and couldn’t.

  “Maybe I should place a classified ad?” she said, taking the spoon from Benjamin. “Help wanted: Mary Pop-pins reincarnated. Must change cloth diapers.”

  “Only in Disneyland,” Benjamin murmured. “Does the job require perfect pitch and a four-octave range?”

  She nodded. “And a magic umbrella.” She met his gaze. “Thank you for helping out today. You can leave now.”

  He blinked at her abrupt dismissal of him. He had the sudden understanding of what yesterday’s garbage felt like. She was pushing him out the door. Curious, he pushed back. “I’m not in a rush. I can help you all night if you like.”

  “I don’t,” she said, studying the green beans. “Like,” she added and met his gaze. “I think you should leave.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Willy is my responsibility and I need to get used to it.”

  She didn’t bat an eye, but he sensed she wasn’t telling the truth. “And the real reason is?”

  She scowled. “I don’t know. You ask too many questions. You won’t let me give Willy cookies. You make fun of Mary Poppins.” She made a huffing sound. “You show signs of being a control freak. It’s like I’ve always said, wealthy, controlling men are a pain in the butt. And they have no sexual creativity.”

  She shouldn’t affect him. She wasn’t his kind of woman. He shouldn’t feel the urge to beat his chest, howl at the moon, rip off both their clothes and make love to her until she couldn’t think straight. Particularly in front of a six-month-old eating green beans.

  Benjamin counted to ten then did the only thing he could. He pulled the jar of green beans and spoon from her hands, set them on Willy’s high-chair tray and dragged Delilah outside the kitchen. Shoving her back against the wall, he slid his knee between her legs and lowered his mouth to hers.

  “What on earth are you doing?” she whispered.

  “I’m sick of hearing your ignorant assumption regarding sexual creativity and wealthy men.”

  “Oh, yeah, and what are you going to do about it?”

  “I’m going to shut you up,” he said and kissed her.

  Getting a man’s attention is like holding a hot auction on ebay. A little competition and they’re off to the races.

  —DELILAH’S DICTUM

  Chapter 7

  He flicked his tongue over her lower lip then dipped it inside with a seductive, sensuous stroke. Heat flicked to life and roared up from her feet to her cheeks. He sucked her lip into his mouth, coaxing, daring her to respond. His kiss said give it to me, baby.

  She instinctively slid her tongue into his m
outh and felt him draw it deep inside. Her nipples turned to hard buds against his tight chest. Suddenly lightheaded, she waved her hands, reaching for something solid and stable. She found his arms and wrapped her fingers around the bulge of his biceps.

  He gave a low growl that vibrated inside her while he rubbed his hard pelvis against her and she felt her blood pool in sensitive places.

  Her body responded to his with hair-trigger speed. Fast, hard, dizzy. What is this? she thought, confused. She wasn’t accustomed to being out of control unless she decided it was time to roll with it. She was accustomed to being the one in control. What the—

  She pulled her mouth from his and sucked in a breath of air. “If you don’t move away from me, I’m going to rearrange your family jewels.”

  “You didn’t like me kissing you,” he said in disbelief and lowered his hand to touch one of her rigid nipples.

  She swallowed a moan.

  “Tell the truth.”

  “I can honestly say I don’t like what you did to me,” she said in a voice that needed far more oomph to be convincing.

  “I’m teachable. What didn’t you like?” he asked, lowering his open mouth to her throat.

  How easy it had been for him to put her into do-me mode. She inhaled a quick breath to clear her mind, but caught a draft of his aftershave instead. Her body was begging to be very bad, but some weird sense of self-preservation was screaming to back off.

  Gritting her teeth, she shifted her position slightly and jerked her knee upward into his hardened crotch. Benjamin stiffened and not from pleasure.

  He swore and stepped back. “Okay,” he said, dark arousal draining from his eyes. “I somewhat deserved that.”

  “I warned you,” she said, surprised that she still felt hot and bothered.

  “Yes, you did,” he said speculatively. “But you kissed me back.”

  Uncomfortable with the truth, she shrugged. “It’s been a while.”

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise as if he couldn’t imagine her going for more than two days without sex. “Really?”

  “Really. But you’re really not my type.”

  “You’re not mine either,” he said. “Makes you wonder what would happen if we both went against type.”