The Boss's Baby Affair(41)

Jennie chose that moment to protest and look around, an expression of bewildered panic on her face.

“You want Mommy?” Bending his head, Nick whispered against her ear, “Me, too. But that’s our secret, ’kay? Because it’s an impossible fantasy.”

Jennie grumbled.

Nick knew exactly how the baby felt. For now he could be generous. “It’s all right, I’ll take you to her.”

With the baby in his arms, Nick waded over to the steps. When he reached the top step, Candace was waiting. Jennie almost leaped out of Nick’s arms and Candace swaddled her in the thick towel.

The bond wasn’t all on Candace’s side—Jennie was equally drawn to her biological mother.

The gold rays of the sun caught her face as she gazed at the baby in her arms, her expression content and happy. “I’d better get her some supper. She’ll be hungry after that swim.”

“Why don’t you feed her out here?” suggested Nick. “It’s such a beautiful summer evening—no point wasting it by being closeted inside.”

Candace hesitated only for a second. “Okay. I’ll take her upstairs to whip her swimsuit off and put a dry diaper on, then bring her dinner out.”

Nick watched her saunter to the glass doors, her hips swaying, the content, gurgling baby in her arms. Everything worked so well now. Yet Nick knew Candace’s time with Jennie was limited. And, for him, becoming involved with Candace was an impossible fantasy.

Because of their daughter.

Nor could Candace continue to live with them. It would only cause heartache for Jennie in the long term. The longer it lingered, the greater the hurt would be. Nick knew the situation could only end in tears.

Candace was going to have to leave. Sooner would be better for Jennie; and the woman who had him tied up in sexual knots was going to hate him even more when he suggested it.



Candace had been right, Nick realized twenty minutes later. Jennie was hungry, and it didn’t take long for the baby to devour her dinner.

Sitting across the table from Candace, with Jennie in a high chair between them as the sun’s sloping rays reflected off the mirrored surface of the water, the mood felt almost domestic.

Nick watched Jennie’s eyelids droop. He’d opened a bottle of crisp Sauvignon Blanc and poured both himself and Candace a glass, but hers was still full.

Candace followed his gaze. “She’s almost asleep.”

“Why don’t you put little madam to bed and come back and finish your wine? I’ll see what Mrs. Busby has planned for dinner.”

Nick suspected that he was playing with fire and Candace looked as though she might object. But she surprised him by saying, “A sandwich would suit me fine. I shouldn’t be long.”

Adrenaline rushed through Nick’s veins as he smiled at her. “Don’t be.”

He told himself nothing was going to happen.

He and Candace were going to share a glass of wine together, have a light meal…and that would be the end of it. He was capable of controlling his emotions…his desires. After all, he’d been doing it for years.

True to her word, Candace was back within fifteen minutes. To Nick’s everlasting regret, she’d donned a pair of navy sweats and a white T-shirt. No sign of the aqua one-piece swimsuit remained. Pity…

But very much safer.

“Good timing,” said Nick. Mrs. Busby had just left after placing a tray of sandwiches on the table.

“Jennie is exhausted.” Candace set the baby monitor on the table and sank into the chair opposite, then pulled a plate toward her.

“It’s the water. She should sleep well.”

“Until two o’clock.” Candace grimaced. “That’s the drill.”

“She wakes up every night?” He hadn’t known.

“Like clockwork.” Peeling back the protective food wrap that covered the platter of sandwiches, she said, “These look delicious.”

“Smoked chicken and avocado on this side. The others are Swiss cheese and salad.”

“Yum.” Candace helped herself. It didn’t take long for them to demolish the contents of the tray, eating in companionable silence. When the platter was empty, Candace raised her wineglass. “To Mrs. Busby. She’s a wonder.”

Leaning forward, Nick clinked his glass against hers. “I’ll drink to that.”

Tilting her head to one side, Candace studied him. “She tells me she’s worked for you for ten years.”

Had it already been a decade? Nick thought about it. He’d been married to Jilly for seven years, and Mrs. Busby had been with him for several years before Jilly had had this house designed, built and decorated. “It’s possible. I first employed her when I lived over on the North Shore. I owned a drafty old Victorian house with an enormous garden.”