The Nanny Proposition(28)

Panic clawed inside his gut. She really was going today. “What if I asked you to stay? You’ve been happy here.”

“I can’t go on like this, Liam,” she said, her voice breaking on his name. “It’s tearing me apart.”

“What if you stay but not as the nanny?” He cleared his throat, braced himself. “What if you stayed as my wife?”

A proposal hadn’t been in his plans, but now that he’d been backed into a corner and made the offer, it felt right. She’d make a good mother for Bonnie and he’d have her in his bed every night. He should have thought of it sooner.

She raised her eyebrows, creating frown lines across her forehead. “And live the rest of my life incognito as Jenna Peters?”

“No.” He straightened his spine. “Jenna Hawke.”

“I can’t live my entire life as a lie.” Her hand fluttered up to circle her throat. “I’d be in hiding every day, wondering if anyone recognized me. And what about my family? They’d never know where I was. Besides,” she said ruefully, “I think my father would have me tracked down eventually.”

“I can’t be part of your life if you go back,” he warned. It was a deal-breaker for him.

“I know.” She sighed, resigned. “You told me once that people born to wealth and privilege are a different species, one you have no time for.”

“You can’t believe that I think of you that way.” Surely, after all they’d shared...

“No, but it’s how you think of my family, of my real life. And I’m sorry you feel that way. You had bad luck and went to a rotten school when you were a kid, but I have friends and family who aren’t like those people you experienced.”

“I was raised with working-class values, and that’s the way I want to bring up Bonnie.” He’d put a lot of thought into this since he’d become a father, and his value system was the best thing he could pass to his daughter. He wouldn’t compromise that, not for anyone.

“Not the way I was raised, you mean,” she said pointedly.

He rested his hands low on his hips. “I won’t commit Bonnie to a life in a royal family. It’s the life you ran away from not so long ago. How could you expect me to allow that for my daughter?”

“So, we’re at an impasse.” She nodded, as if she’d expected this. “I can’t stay, and when I get home, I’ll be subject to my parents’ decision about what to do with my life. And you won’t be part of that.”

A band clamped around his skull and tightened. He rubbed at the sides of his head—there had to be another way. His career was based on thinking outside the box and finding creative solutions. “What if they want you to stay out of the spotlight? To go on living incognito? You could come back.”

“So, you’ll have me under those circumstances?” Her blue eyes flashed. “You want to know something, Liam? I might have lied to you, but at least I saw you. What we had was more honest than anything I’ve had with anyone else, despite the lie.”

He stilled as the truth of that statement flowed through him. She was right. She’d been the first person outside his family to see the real him. And she might have even seen more of him than they had.

“I know,” he said, his voice low. “I saw you too.”

Her bottom lip trembled and she bit down on it before she replied. “You did, yes. But if I came back to a man who would only have me under certain conditions, what would that say about our relationship?” She swiped at a tear that made its way down her cheek. “It wouldn’t be about the real me or you, the whole person. It would be about only accepting the parts that suited you. What sort of foundation for the future is that?”

He thrust both hands through his hair and held them there. What more did she want from him? He’d offered her marriage, then said she could come back if her parents didn’t want her in Larsland, and still it wasn’t enough. That was all he could do. Bonnie’s welfare had to be paramount. What sort of father would he be if he sold out his daughter’s future for his own happiness?

He set his jaw. “I can only offer you what I’ve already laid out.”

“And I won’t settle for less than what I need.” She rubbed her eyes and turned to look up toward the house that was only just visible through the net walls of the greenhouse. “I’ve rung the friend who helped me move here, Kristen, and arranged to go home.”

The weight of everything that had just happened suddenly fell down on him and he struggled not to let it press him into the ground. She was going. Jenna was leaving him and he couldn’t stop her.

He covered the few feet between them and ran a hand down her arm to tangle her fingers with his own. “I’ll miss you and Meg.”

“We’ll miss you and Bonnie,” she said, her voice wobbling. “If you need me, I’ve left Kristen’s cell number on your bedside table. She’ll be able to get me a message, no matter where I end up.”

He leaned down to kiss her cheek, but, unable to stop himself, he drifted across and kissed her sweet lips instead. She moaned his name as she gripped his shoulders and he pulled her closer. She tasted of tears and everything he wanted, and he wondered if he’d have the strength to let her go or whether he’d hold her here in the greenhouse forever.

He wrenched his mouth away while he still could, stepped back and dug his hands into his pockets to keep himself in check. “Do you need any help packing?”

“No,” she said, folding her arms tightly under her breasts. “I’ve packed a suitcase to take, and Katherine said she’d send the rest on for me.”

“God, Katherine,” he said, wincing. “She’ll probably kill me. She’s turned into your biggest fan.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I have to go. Your mother should be up at the house with the babies by now.”

“I’ll walk you up.” He turned to his workbench and pushed the seedlings into the middle so they were safe while he was gone, then looked back to Jenna.

“Please don’t,” she said, gulping air as the tears flowed more freely down her face. “I don’t think I could stand saying goodbye to you in front of other people.”

He could barely speak past the lump lodged in his throat, but seeing her cry really tore him up. “Goodbye, Jenna.”

“Goodbye, Liam,” she said and rushed through the rows of flowers, away from him, gone.





                      Twelve

“Well, you’re a sorry example of fatherhood.”

On hearing his brother’s voice, Liam scowled.

In the couple of weeks since Jenna had left, he felt like he’d merely been going through the motions of living, and Bonnie had been the only light in his dark. He hadn’t felt like seeing anyone else and had barely spoken to the other researchers at work. So on a Sunday morning when he should have been surrounded only by his daughter’s baby sounds, the last thing he wanted was visitors. Guests would expect him to talk and interact like a normal person, a person whose heart hadn’t been torn in two, with one half on the living room floor here with him, and the other on the other side of the globe.

Resigned, he leaned over and picked up Bonnie from her play mat and faced them. “I’ll be telling Katherine to check with me before letting you two in again. What’s that comment supposed to mean, anyway?”

Adam shot Dylan a glance. “I see what you were talking about.”

“What?” Liam demanded. He didn’t have the patience for cryptic games.

Dylan winced. “Well, there’s that bark for a start.”

Adam reached over and took his niece. “A father should at least pretend to be enjoying time with his daughter.”

Liam folded his arms over his chest. Who were they to question his parenting? “I was enjoying my time with her. Until you two showed up.”

“Could have fooled us,” Dylan said. “You look like you just lost the love of your life.” His eyes widened in mock innocence. “Oh, wait...”

Liam felt his temper rising and cut his brother off before he could say something else and make it worse. “Why, exactly, are you here?”

“We wanted to see how you’re doing,” Adam said, concern in his voice this time. “Since Jenna left.”

Dylan folded his arms, mirroring Liam’s stance. “And if you’re going after her.”

Going after her? As if he hadn’t thought about that option at least a million times. “I’m doing fine, thank you very much, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Adam narrowed his eyes. “Then you’re a fool.”

“Hey!” Liam said, surprised. This was going beyond their normal fraternal teasing.

“You know,” Dylan said conversationally, as if the other two weren’t squaring off, “I was reading a Larsland newspaper this morning and I saw a story about our Princess Jensine.”

Liam found his scowl again. Perhaps they’d been bored and were here to torture him for their own entertainment.

“They said,” Dylan continued, “that she’d spent some time in seclusion after losing her boyfriend, Alexander.”