“They’re very beautiful,” Betsy said as she fussed over the huge bouquet that had been delivered to her daughter’s room late that afternoon.
Cynthia leaned back in her hospital bed and gazed at the exotic flowers. “I agree.” She grinned. “I don’t even know what half of them are. I recognize starburst lilies and the roses, but what are those little waxy things? And all that purple puffy stuff?”
Betsy smiled at her. “Purple puffy stuff? Is that the official Latin name?”
“I guess it is for us.”
Her mother moved to the side of her bed and patted her hand. “You seemed to have made an impression on Jonathan Steele.”
“You think?” Cynthia asked, not meeting Betsy’s gaze.
Thirty-six hours of unconsciousness had left her brain a little foggy. Certain events leading up to her passing out after drinking the poison weren’t as clear as they could be. She remembered going to the ball and then meeting and dancing with Jonathan. She definitely remembered their kiss…perhaps in more detail than she should. But she didn’t recall much more than stomach cramps, then waking up to find her entire family and Jonathan waiting in her hospital room.
“He stayed here the whole time you were unconscious,” Betsy told her. She sighed and touched her daughter’s cheek. “For a while they weren’t sure you were going to make it and I didn’t see how I could survive that. I was closer to falling apart than I would like to admit and your Mr. Steele was very supportive.”
Cynthia felt a flare of heat on her cheeks. “He’s not my anything.”
“Then why the flowers?”
Cynthia returned her gaze to the beautiful display. “I guess he’s just a nice man.”
Her mother took her hand in hers and squeezed it slightly. “I’d have to agree with you on that.”
Jenny, Brad and Brett returned from their trip to the hospital cafeteria for dessert. The boys gave their mother an elaborate description of the piece of pie they’d each had. Jenny was quieter, hanging back until Cynthia patted the edge of her mattress and urged her to sit down.
“I’m fine,” she said quietly when the thirteen-year-old settled gingerly next to her. “I know it was scary, especially when no one knew what was wrong, but I’m okay now.”
Big blue eyes stared at her face. Jenny flashed a quick smile, showing a mouthful of braces. “I know you’re better, but for a while it was awful.” She glanced at their mother. “If Mr. Steele hadn’t been here, I think Mom would have lost it. But he stuck around and made sure we all ate and stuff.” Jenny flicked her long blond hair behind her shoulders.
Despite the age difference, she and Jenny were close. Cynthia had missed her terribly the year she’d been working in Chicago. Since Frank’s death three years ago, Cynthia had been living in Grand Springs, giving her and Jenny a chance to renew their special relationship.
“I’ll be home in the morning,” she reminded her sister. “Life will be back to normal and you won’t have an excuse to miss school.”
“I’m glad you mentioned that,” Betsy said as she ruffled Brett’s short blond hair. “Visiting hours are about over and we need to get going. These three need a good night’s sleep so they can be alert for classes tomorrow.”
“Ah, Mom,” Brad said. He puffed out his lower lip in an effort to show his mother how much the news distressed him, but she wasn’t the least bit impressed.
“No ‘ah Mom’s’ from you, young man.” But her warm hug belied the stern tone of her voice. Both freckle-faced boys clung to her for a brief embrace before turning to their oldest sister.
“See you tomorrow, Cyn,” Brad said. Brett leaned down and hugged her.
She squeezed the twin boys, then gave them each a smile. “I’ll be home by the time you get back from school. Everything is going to be fine. You’ll see.”
It took a couple of minutes for the Morgan family to finish their goodbyes, but just before the end of visiting hours, Cynthia finally found herself alone. She sank back against her pillow and sighed with contentment. Despite the potential tragedy of what had happened to her, everything had turned out well. She was nearly recovered from the poison and Dr. Howell had assured her there would be no long-term effects. Her body felt a little achy and her stomach would take a few days to settle down, but they were minor complaints.
As she pulled the sheet and blanket up to her chin, Cynthia turned her attention to the extravagant display of flowers by the window. They had arrived that afternoon with a handwritten note from Jonathan Steele. He’d ducked out that morning, shortly after she’d regained consciousness. Now, after everyone was gone, she was willing to admit that she’d been hoping he might stop by and see her before she left in the morning. But that wasn’t likely. Jonathan had a very busy life. They were practically strangers. He’d already been so kind to her family.
But all those reasons weren’t enough to ease her faint sense of disappointment. She’d wanted to see him again. Mostly because she knew she would never have another chance. They’d lived their entire lives in the same town and had never run into each other before. That wasn’t about to change.
“Oh well,” she said softly and closed her eyes. “Obviously I should have left my shoe at the ball or something.”
She waited for sleep to claim her. She’d nearly drifted off when she heard her door open quietly, followed by the sound of footsteps on the linoleum.
She opened her eyes and blinked at her visitor. Jonathan Steele-tall, darkly handsome and carrying a large stuffed bear-stood at the foot of her bed.
“I couldn’t tell if you were really asleep or just pretending,” he teased, then glanced over his shoulder toward the door. “I’m here after hours over the protest of your nurse. She made me promise to stay no more than ten minutes. If I violate that, she’s threatening bodily harm. Have you seen her? I think she could take me.”
Cynthia found herself giggling even as her entire body tingled with delight. “Thank you for visiting me.” Then she remembered her hospital gown, her lack of makeup and the fact that her hair must look like a visual “ode to a rat’s nest.”
“I’m a mess,” she said, trying to smooth her bangs.
Jonathan pulled a chair up close to the bed and sat down. “Neither of us think you’re anything but very lovely,” he said, handing her the stuffed bear. “This is Alfie. He was put into one of those programs that release animals back into the wild, but he decided he would rather live with an attractive blond woman who works with children. I instantly thought of you. I hope you don’t mind.”
She wrapped her arms around the cuddly bear. “I don’t mind at all. Thank you for him. And for the flowers. They’re beautiful.” She eyed the bouquet. “I’m not sure they’ll fit in the car.”
“I can rent you a truck if you need it.”
“Gee, thanks.” She pushed the control panel and raised her bed so that she was nearly in a sitting position. “And thank you for all your help with my family. Everyone says you were terrific. My mom says she was on the verge of falling apart and you helped her keep it all together.”
Jonathan dismissed the comment with a flick of his hand. “No problem. All I did was go for coffee and keep the kids fed.”
She shook her head. “You stayed. We’re strangers to you and yet you stayed. That means a lot.”
He leaned back in his plastic chair. During the time he’d been away he’d changed from his tux and had showered and shaved. Now a white shirt emphasized the width of his shoulders, while worn jeans outlined narrow hips and strong thighs. She wouldn’t have thought of a rich powerful guy like him wearing jeans, but she had to admit he could easily have modeled them on billboards across the country. Men might not be impressed but most women would have slowed to take a second look.
But it wasn’t just his body that got her attention. He wore his short, dark hair in layers. The hints of silver at the temple gave him a distinguished air. She found herself wondering if it was possible to get lost in his gray-blue eyes. She would have thought the color could be cold and distant, but on him it was warm and welcoming.
“I don’t think my actions qualify me for sainthood,” he said, “but thank you for the compliment.”
“I’m impressed you weren’t overwhelmed by my family.” She smiled. “The boys, especially. Most people have trouble telling them apart and when they decide to get into trouble, there’s no stopping them.”
“They were on their best behavior. I think you had them scared.”
“I guess you’re right.” She relaxed against her pillow. “When I was little, I was an only child. I was so happy when my mom had Jenny and then the boys. We’re a close family.”
His expression hardened. She couldn’t read what he was thinking, but she knew that she’d reminded him of something unpleasant.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “That made you think of your brother. You’re still in shock about his death.”
“Among other things,” he admitted. He hesitated, then leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “David and Lisa have a son. Colton. He’s three or four months old. Apparently I’m his only relative, and therefore his guardian.”
Cynthia beamed at him. “How wonderful! Oh, Jonathan, this is great. You’re going to have a piece of your brother in your life. As Colton grows up you’ll be able to see parts of David in him. You must be so relieved to know you’re going to have your nephew living with you.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.”
He didn’t sound very excited.
“Aren’t you happy?”
“I’m getting used to the idea.” He straightened. “The police have found the man who put the poison in the coffee.” He paused, then looked at her. “It wasn’t meant for you, Cynthia. I don’t want you worrying that someone is out to get you.”
She turned his words over in her mind. The pieces all clicked into place. “The poison was for you, wasn’t it?”
He nodded.
“But they caught the man? You’re safe now?”
“Looks that way. I’m sorry you drank the coffee. If I’d known-”
“But you didn’t,” she said, interrupting him. “It was just circumstances. I’m not thrilled I was sick, but I’m going to be fine. Dr. Howell is letting me go in the morning.”
Jonathan nodded. “I heard. I’ve already spoken to your mother. I’ll be handling your medical expenses.”
“You don’t have to do that. I have insurance.”
“All the same, it’s something I want to do.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t think he was offering charity. He was a rich man, so the money wouldn’t mean as much to him as it would to her. She bit her lower lip. “Okay. I appreciate your kindness, but in return I want to do something for you.”
A predatory gleam came into his eyes. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well, unless you’ve made other arrangements already, I might just have a solution to your problem.”
“Which problem is that? I have several right now.”
She smiled. “The problem of what to do about the baby. I’m guessing that no matter how thrilled you might be to have custody of him, you’re not exactly equipped to take care of an infant.”
His expression tightened. “That would be an understatement.”
“I thought as much.” She set the stuffed bear next to her and linked her hands together on her lap. “I happen to be the sole owner of a company called Mother’s Helper. We provide temporary live-in nannies for just this sort of occasion. Actually we do a lot of work for parents with newborns or people who have a short-term day-care crisis. Your child care needs are going to be long-term, but I can help you until you can make permanent arrangements.”
He frowned. “I thought you taught kindergarten.”
“No,” she said with a laugh. “You said I worked with children and I agreed. I actually work with babies the most.” She paused and felt herself blushing. “I would be thrilled to help you out, Jonathan. I owe you. Not just because of what happened here in the hospital but because you’re the reason I have my business at all. The seed money you provided for start-up companies here in Grand Springs made it possible for me to open Mother’s Helper. I received a grant of capital as well as a lot of excellent business advice.”
He shifted uncomfortably on his chair. “Like I said, I’m not exactly saint material.”
“You are to me. One of my clients gave me a ticket to the charity ball. I came specifically with the hope that I would be able to meet you and thank you.”
“Look, Cynthia. You’re a nice young woman and I’m sure you mean all this, but I’m not a nice guy. I could introduce you to a dozen people who would be happy to swear that I’m a real bastard.”
“They’re wrong,” she said simply and with great conviction. Jonathan had been nothing but kind from the moment she’d met him. “You’re one of the good guys. An asset to the community and a real gentleman. Just like my stepfather.”
“How flattering,” he said dryly. “This is where I remind you that you don’t know me from a rock. Before you commission a statue to my greatness, you might want to get to know me a little better. You’ll find that I tarnish on further acquaintance.”
“I don’t believe you,” she told him. His protestations simply convinced her that he was modest as well as good. “But I am still offering my company’s services. Do you want me to provide you with a temporary live-in nanny?”
“Sure. Someone has to look after Colton. I have a business to run.” He stood up, leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You can barely keep your eyes open, so I’m going to go before I get thrown out. I’ll be by to talk with you in the morning. We can work out the arrangements.”
Her skin heated where he’d touched her and she wished he’d kissed her on the mouth instead of the cheek. “You’ll, ah, have to tell me what you’re looking for in a nanny. I’m not sure who is available right now but I can find out and give you a list.”
He looked at her and raised his eyebrows. “I don’t bother with staff,” he said. “I prefer to work with the people in charge.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You want me to be the nanny? But that would mean living with you. In your house.”
He smiled. “I know. Still think I’m a saint?”
Heat filled her. Heat from his nearness and her memories of the kiss they’d shared. Heat and a desire to say yes. Even if it was just for a few days, she wanted to see what it was like to spend time with someone like Jonathan Steele.
“I sometimes take jobs,” she said slowly. “If we’re really busy or it seems like I would be a good match for the client.”
“I think we’ve already proven we’re a good match,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And with that he was gone. Cynthia was left alone with Alfie, the bear and her whirling thoughts. Jonathan was completely out of her league. She had no business trying to make herself fit into his world. If she tried, she was practically promising herself heartache. The man appealed to her in fifty different ways, yet she knew that he couldn’t possibly share her feelings.
“A smart woman would simply walk away,” she told the bear. And she’d always thought of herself as smart. Yet she knew she wasn’t going to be this time. She could only hope that she wasn’t going to regret her impulsiveness.
What was he doing here? Jonathan asked himself the question late the next afternoon as he sat in the middle of the chaos that was the Morgan living room.
Brad and Brett, the ten-year-old twins were sprawled out on the carpet, arguing about a board game they were playing. Betsy was fussing, bringing drinks and snacks, while Cynthia stretched out on the sofa, a handmade afghan tucked around her legs. Jenny sat in the wing chair by the window.
He had no business being here, he thought, trying to avoid looking at both Cynthia and Jenny. He felt awkward and out of place. But he was trapped by a situation of his own making and he had no one to blame but himself. He’d been the one teasing Cynthia the previous night, playing a grown-up game with someone who was still very much an innocent. He’d allowed himself to consider the possibilities of having her under his roof, but he’d ignored the reality of who and what she was. He didn’t have the right to seduce her and by suggesting she be the one to help him with his nephew, he’d invited her into his home. Now he was stuck with her and all the temptation she provided.
Even as he told himself to look away he found his gaze drawn back to her pretty face. She had wide hazel-green eyes, so different from the rest of the Morgan family. They all had blue eyes. Cynthia must take after her father in that way. She was also much taller than her mother-another legacy from her paternal side. But her features were similar to Betsy’s. He also caught the likeness in the tilt of her head and her quick smile.
He told himself he had no business thinking of Cynthia that way. She was several years younger than himself. Her lack of worldliness widened the gap between them. If she was really going to work in his home, then he had to forget their kiss and the attraction he felt, and replace it with a cordial, worklike attitude.
A soft cooing sound caught his attention. Reluctantly he looked at Jenny and the wrapped bundle she held. Child services had delivered his nephew to him less than two hours before. At Cynthia’s suggestion, the social worker had come to the Morgan house. Colton would spend the next couple of days here until Cynthia was well enough to begin her duties at Jonathan’s house.
“Nervous?”
He turned at the sound of her voice and caught her watching him. “About?”
She smiled. “I’ve seen you trying to avoid looking at Colton. Small babies frequently make new fathers nervous, so I’m guessing he’ll have the same effect on his uncle. After all, you told me that you hadn’t spent much time around him.”
Today was the first time he’d seen Colton, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. Cynthia had her own particular views about families and their relationships. He didn’t share her opinion, but he wasn’t going to get into an argument, either. Not with Jenny and the twins as interested bystanders.
“I thought Colton would do better in the hands of a professional.” He winked at Jenny. His gesture earned him a shy smile.
“He’s a wonderful baby,” the teenager said. “I’ve been going on jobs with Cynthia since she started her business and I’ve always loved being with the babies.”
“Jenny’s a natural,” Cynthia told him.
Betsy bustled in with a plate of freshly baked cookies. Jonathan could see the steam still rising from them. The boys scrambled to their feet at the sight and swarmed toward their mother.
“Company first,” she said, stepping around them and approaching Jonathan. “I hope you like chocolate chip.”
“Who doesn’t?” he said lightly, taking two cookies.
She passed the plate around, then had to take it back from Brad and Brett when they each grabbed two handfuls. The boys were good-natured about replacing the extra cookies.
Jonathan took a bite of the still-warm cookie. While he appreciated the gesture, he felt out of place in the house. A part of him could appreciate the warmth of the well-worn furniture and the way the children obviously cared about each other. But appreciation was different from understanding. Here, in the small living room, with the open game box scattered and magazines stacked haphazardly on an end table, was the real heart of a home. His house might be several times larger, but that only gave it more room for the silence to echo. Not that he was interested in what these people had. He still believed that families were an invention of the devil.
Betsy wiped her hands on her jeans, then settled on the sofa by Cynthia’s feet. She placed a hand on her daughter’s knee. “Did Cynthia tell you that your contribution to start-up capital is the reason she was able to form Mother’s Helper?”
Jonathan swallowed uncomfortably. “She mentioned it last night. It’s not a big deal.” Instead it was a nice tax write-off and a way to grease wheels in the community. Not that he could explain that to anyone in this room. He doubted any one of them had ever had a cynical thought in their collective lives.
“We think it’s a very big deal,” Betsy insisted.
“Jonathan’s not interested in having a statue erected in his honor,” Cynthia said, giving him a teasing smile. “He told me so last night.”
He’d also told her that he was a bastard, but she hadn’t bothered to listen. Or had she? Had she figured out that he was nothing like her? That he was dangerous? That the only thing that would prevent him from following up on their impressive kiss was a thin veneer of civility that said a man like him had no business preying on the innocents?
“Do you think he knows?” Jenny asked. She looked at the baby and blinked several times. “Colton. Do you think he knows his parents are gone?”
Jonathan was stunned to see tears in her eyes, as if the thought of the boy being on his own was painful to her.
“I know how I felt when Dad died,” she whispered.
He didn’t know what to say to that. If he wasn’t careful they would start acting sympathetic, which he didn’t want. He still didn’t know how he felt about David being dead. His own brother had tried to steal millions of dollars and have him killed. In the process he’d gotten involved with some dangerous people and that had cost him his life.
Betsy stood up and reached for the plate of cookies. “All right. You boys come on with me. You, too, Jenny. We’ll go into my bedroom and watch a movie while Cynthia and Mr. Steele talk about arrangements for Colton’s care.”
She ushered the boys out in front of her, then placed her free arm around Jenny’s slender shoulders. The teenager held the baby as if he were her most precious possession. In her sweatshirt and jeans, she looked like the thirteen-year-old she was, yet her competence with the baby impressed him. He doubted he would ever do as well. Nor did he want to try.
“I’m sorry,” Cynthia said when they were alone. “Jenny speaks without thinking.”
“I’m fine,” he answered honestly. “I hope she’s not too upset.”
“Sometimes Frank’s death still gets to all of us. But Mom is good at distracting the kids.” She hesitated. “I hope you don’t mind that Jenny took Colton in with her. I thought she would feel better if she continued to hold him, but if you’re concerned about her taking care of him-”
He held up his hand to stop her in midsentence. “I might not know anything about babies, but even I can see she knows what she’s doing. In fact if it were in my power, I would be happy to leave him in her capable care until he was eighteen or so.”
Cynthia grinned. “You’ll get over being nervous. In a couple of weeks you won’t be able to remember what it was like without him in your life.”
He doubted that but didn’t see the point in arguing.
She shifted on the sofa, pulling up the afghan and leaning back against the pillows one of the boys had brought her. “I expect Colton and I will be moving in this Friday. What do you want to do about baby furniture and supplies?”
He stared at her blankly. “Whatever you think is best.”
“I figured as much.” She smiled. “I can’t see you having a great time hanging out at the baby store.”
Nor could he. “Are you going to be up to all this?” he asked. “You’re still recovering.”
“I feel fine. I’m ready to get back to work.”
He wasn’t so sure. “Perhaps I should simply start looking for a permanent nanny now and save you the trouble.”
Cynthia’s gaze was steady. “You can start looking whenever you’d like. In fact one of the services I provide is an interview screening process. I’m also happy to be at the interview with you. But finding someone to stay in your house, looking after your child on a long-term basis isn’t all that easy. It usually takes time. I don’t mind filling in.”
But this wasn’t about her, he thought. Even now Cynthia was gazing at him with a look that spoke far more than she realized. She wasn’t looking at him with hero worship-not exactly. It was more…female interest in an available man. And he would be willing to bet his third-quarter earnings that she didn’t have a clue that he could tell what she was thinking.
She reached for her glass of water, but it was a couple of inches out of reach. When she started to move, he waved her back to the sofa.
“I’ll get it,” he said and crossed the room.
When he handed her the glass, he found himself sitting on the edge of the sofa instead of returning to his seat. Cynthia took a drink then put the glass down.
She wore jeans and a green sweatshirt that had faded from too many washings. There wasn’t a speck of makeup on her face. Her shoulder-length blond hair was loose and soft around her face. She looked young and fragile and she’d nearly died because of him.
“I’m sorry about the poisoning,” he said. “I know that’s a stupid thing to say, but I never wanted you to get hurt.”
She drew her knees to her chest. “Don’t be silly. It’s not your fault. It was an accident.”
His hip pressed against hers. He could feel the heat of her through the layers of her clothing and his own. He was close enough to inhale the floral fragrance of soap or shampoo or maybe just the essence of her.
She smiled. “Right up until the bad stuff started happening, I’d been having a really good time. I’d hoped I would meet you. I never thought we’d get to dance.”
“Or that you would drink poison meant for me.”
“Don’t,” she said with a shake of her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.”
He found himself drawn to her, moving closer, when there wasn’t that much room between them to begin with. She was trouble, he thought. She might look like the last living virgin, but she was more dangerous than any other woman he’d ever known.
“Did you like the dancing, too?” she asked, her voice breathless.
He was close enough to see that her eyes had dilated and that color was moving up her neck and down from her hairline. A blush. Who the hell still blushed?
“I liked the kissing better,” he said honestly.
But before he could press his mouth to hers, there was a sound from a nearby room. He remembered where he was and who had the potential to walk in without warning. He drew back and rose to his feet.
“Coward,” Cynthia said lightly.
“Let’s just say I know about the importance of good timing. And this isn’t it.”