Her facial bones were delicately carved under her tawny velvety skin. Her short crop of raven hair glittered like strands of black silk in the slivers of afternoon sun streaming through the glass door. Long lashes accentuated a pair of fiery, obsidian eyes, and her lips, full and provocative under a thin layer of gloss, looked as if they’d just been thoroughly kissed.
She was the most enchanting woman Erik had ever seen.
Unwittingly, his gaze fell to the ripe swell of her breasts straining piquantly under the stretchy material of her blouse. Was she even wearing a bra? His gut wrenched at the thought.
“You must be Dr. LaCrosse,” she said, breaking the silence and offering him a tantalizing smile.
Her unfamiliar, yet highly stimulating perfume wrapped around him. He grew harder. Restless.
She was probably about five feet, ten inches tall, he thought, suddenly feeling uncomfortable sitting in her presence. But if he dared stand up, she would have a full view of his unsolicited arousal. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m Dr. LaCrosse, and you are—”
“Michelle. Michelle Carter.” She held out her hand.
Her wrist was delicate, her fingers long and slender, the nails red. Channel. Channel your thoughts. Erik’s hands curled around the arms of his chair. “Apparently my housekeeper neglected to relay my message to you, Ms. Carter.”
She dropped her hand. “Actually, she did. But I’d already seen you through the window when my cab pulled up.”
He held her gaze, not knowing whether to smile or scowl at her pursed lips. It obviously gave her great satisfaction to have caught him in a lie. “Ms. Carter,” he began in an attempt to repair the self-inflicted damage to his character, “the minute I saw you step out of the cab, I knew you were wrong for the job. For one thing, you’re far too young. I specifically requested someone older who has experience taking care of young children.”#p#分页标题#e#
Feeling the tension in his groin loosen a bit, Erik stood up and stepped from behind the desk. He stared down at her, still appalled that she’d come to an interview dressed so unprofessionally. “You,” he continued, “definitely do not fit that description.”
With considerable effort, Michelle suppressed the sensual jitters the deep sexy voice of the extremely tall man was causing inside her. Dressed in no smaller than size fifteen loafers, tan slacks, and a white Polo shirt, his olive-toned body was lean, hard, and athletic. He was classically handsome, with a nice straight nose and a rich crop of curly dark-brown hair. His smoky grey eyes, speckled with an array of golden hues, were as sharp as they were eccentric.
McDreamy and McSteamy rolled up into one. Move over boys. This doctor was so fine, he made her leak.
Michelle licked her lips as an inexplicable sense of fear washed over her. She’d had to deal with a few arrogant men in her past, but this one made her feel quite susceptible. If she were smart, she would walk out of this room, out of this cold luxurious country mansion and whistle her cab back to Manchester.
But she wasn’t smart. She was desperate. She needed this job. She needed a roof over her head and a fresh start.
“Well, have you nothing to say, Ms. Carter? You barged into my study after you were asked to leave. I explain why you don’t qualify for the job, and all you can do is stand there gawking at me?”
From the way he assessed her with his eyes, Michelle knew he disapproved of her attire as much as her age. Ready Nanny Agency had warned her that the fastidious widower had requested someone much older. Since they were fresh out of antiquated nannies and would probably lose him as a client anyway, they wanted to know if she was up to trying her luck.
Heck, yes. She had nothing to lose.
Michelle took a deep breath. When the agency called her as a backup, she was in a laundromat in downtown Manchester. With a ninety-minute window of time, she barely had enough to finish the last wash, pull the half-dried load from the dryer, catch the city bus back to her apartment, throw her clothes and a few other personal items into a suitcase—since she was determined to land this job and move in tonight—and catch a cab to 204 Jefferson Drive in the upscale town of Amherst, New Hampshire.
If she told him all that, he would know she was desperate. That wasn’t happening. Not today, and definitely not after the way he was looking down his nose at her. She clutched the folder with her credentials to her chest. “Dr. LaCrosse, if I were you and saw me walking up my driveway dressed like this to interview for a nanny position for my seven-year-old daughter, I would have the same reaction.”
“Is that so, Ms. Carter? Then perhaps you can explain your attire?” His eyes lingered on her chest then wandered down to her waistline before he looked away.