The Nanny Proposition(8)

“What happens there?”

“The most interesting aspect of the entire business,” he said with a grin. “Research.”

Enthusiasm sparked in his eyes and she wanted to know more about what it was that made him happy, about what made this man tick. “Better ways to grow things?”

“We have people who work on that, but I prefer the plant and flower development side of things.”

“Creating new flowers?” she said, hearing the touch of awe in her voice.

“Basically. Sometimes it’s taking an old favorite and producing it in a new color. Or combining two flowers to create a brand-new one.”

She tilted her head to the side and regarded him. “So really you’re a farmer.”

“No, I’m a scientist,” he said in a tone that made it clear there was no doubt on this subject. “Though my parents were vegetable farmers before they moved here and started this business, and they always saw themselves as farmers.”

She looked him over. His pants were neat and pressed, albeit with dirt smudges on the thighs. And his shirt was buttoned almost to the top, though there was no tie. There was definitely an aspect of “scientist in the field” about him. Which made her wonder about how he ended up here.

She switched Meg to her other hip to accommodate her daughter leaning toward Bonnie. “Did you always want to join the family business?”

“When we were young, we didn’t have a choice. The business put food on the table, so we all helped. Dylan was a charmer even back then, and Adam always had an eye for a profit, so they usually manned the flower stall with Mom on weekends, and I helped Dad in the garden—digging, planting, grafting.”

She chuckled. “Sounds like your brothers got the easier end of the deal.”

“No, but I made sure they thought that.” He shaded his eyes with his free hand as he looked out over the gardens, maybe seeing them as they once were, not as they were now. “I loved those days. Dad teaching me to graft, then leaving me alone with a shed full of plants to experiment. And once he realized I could create new flowers, things no one had seen before, he gave me room to experiment even more.”

“Actually, that does sound pretty fun.” She glanced down at a nearby row of red poppies and, suddenly wanted to sink her fingers into the rich earth and do a bit of gardening herself.

Following her gaze, he crouched down to the poppies, barely jostling Bonnie. He picked a single poppy with two fingers and handed it to Meg, who squealed with glee. “And,” he said, still watching Meg, “there’s nothing quite like the satisfaction of creating something with your own hands and knowing that it will contribute to keeping your family clothed and fed.”

She could see him as a young teenager, focused on his experiments, carefully tending to the plants and recording the data in a spreadsheet. She smiled at the thought. “I’m guessing you were the serious one when you were kids.”

“Adam was pretty serious too. It was usually Dylan leading us astray,” he said, the corner of his mouth kicking up in a smile.

Having worked for Dylan for just over a year and watched him interacting with people, she could well believe that. Dylan Hawke had more than his fair share of persuasive charisma, and one day it would catch up with him.

Bonnie whimpered and flailed her arms, causing Liam to look from baby to nanny and back again. Without missing a beat, Jenna tucked Meg in the stroller and took Bonnie from her father as she asked, “So, have you worked here since you left school?”

Liam put his hands low on his hips, then dug them into his pockets, as if not sure what to do with them now. “I got a bachelor of science but kept my hand in here part-time. A double major in biology and genetics helped me with the development of new flowers.”

“I think it’s marvelous what your family has achieved here. What you’ve achieved here, Liam.” He and his family had taken their destiny in their own hands. Until she’d left Larsland, she’d been on a course mapped out for her by others, and even now, she wouldn’t trade having Meg for anything but she wasn’t on a path she would have chosen if she hadn’t gotten herself into a tangle. Liam was exactly where he wanted to be, doing exactly what he wanted to do. She admired that. “Thank you for sharing the story with me. It’s amazing.”

He shrugged. “Everyone’s story is amazing if you take the time to listen. Take you, for example. You grew up on the other side of the world and now you’re here. That’s interesting.”

Her heart skipped a beat. It was an invitation to share, and in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to tell him about her homeland, the beauty of a long summer sunset, how the winter’s snow left a blanket across ages-old stone buildings or that the majesty of the Baltic Sea skirted the edges of her former world. But she couldn’t. One slip and her whole story could come tumbling out. And then all the effort to create her new life would have been for nothing.

She leaned down and ran her hand over Meg’s blond curls, not meeting Liam’s eyes. “I really need to get Bonnie back inside for a bottle,” she said as casually as she could manage. “It’s been lovely being out here. Thank you.”





                      Four

Five nights later, Liam arrived home just after eight o’clock, feeling an uneasy blend of anticipation and trepidation.

He’d always been something of a workaholic, staying up till all hours with his research, occasionally forgetting meals. And now he had an even bigger reason to ensure the productivity of Hawke’s Blooms—Bonnie’s future. He’d found her a good nanny, so now the best thing he could do for his daughter was make sure she’d always be financially secure.

Though, if he were honest, this evening’s reluctance to come home early may have been more about gaining some distance from his newest employee. Four nights of sitting with Jenna while she attended to the night feedings in the intimacy of the silent, darkened house had led to four nights of lying awake, thinking of the woman a few doors down. Forbidden thoughts rising and swirling through his mind.

Of her mouth.

Her hands.

Her body.

Even though he knew she always dressed sensibly in her robe, the knowledge that she’d gotten up from her bed to attend to his daughter was proving to be alluring.

Yesterday it had become worse. The thoughts had leaked into his daytime activities, and visions of Jenna’s skin, smooth and creamy, had distracted him from slicing the root of a plant he was grafting and he’d slipped and cut this thumb. An amateur mistake, and he’d been disgusted with himself.

He’d already been taking earlier breakfasts and ducking out of the house before Jenna woke each morning on the out of sight, out of mind theory. Today he’d taken it a step further; when he’d seen her strolling through the rows of blooms with the babies, he hadn’t gone out to say hello, undermining their fledgling routine. But it wasn’t just about him trying to regain control of his thoughts. This was also about Jenna.

He refused to jeopardize their arrangement by letting her know where his mind had strayed. If she guessed, she’d be uncomfortable living in his house, and he wouldn’t risk her leaving for a less complicated job. Bonnie was his priority.

Not to mention that he was still a little uneasy about how quickly she’d left the other day as soon as he’d mentioned her background. If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d used the excuse of Bonnie needing a feeding to avoid talking about her life. It sat uncomfortably in his gut that the woman taking care of his daughter might be hiding something, but he’d tried to dismiss it. There was probably a reasonable explanation. Though, to prove it to himself, he’d make sure he asked her about her childhood again.

Fifteen minutes ago, he’d called to tell Katherine he was on his way up to the house, and she’d said Bonnie was sleeping and dinner would be on the table when he got there. He dropped his briefcase in the living room and headed down the hall. With each step, he braced himself for the sight of Jenna.

So what if he was attracted to her? It was a simple case of mind over matter. His mind was infinitely stronger than anything his body felt.

Three steps from the dining room and he was a rock—wind and rain might pound at his surface, but nothing affected him. Two steps—solid stone, unwavering for anyone or anything. One step—he was impervious. He reached the door and walked through with a straight spine and head held high. Jenna stood gently rocking an old-fashioned white cradle that was set up near the dining table. The soft lighting made her eyes look enormous and her skin glow.

She’s just a woman.

A woman of serene beauty, sure. But a woman just the same.

He paused to ensure his breathing was regular, his heartbeat even. He was a rock. Unyielding to outside influences.

He paused by the cradle. Bonnie’s long lashes rested on her cheeks and he allowed himself a moment of tenderness as he watched her little chest rise and fall, her mouth move. Then he pulled himself back together and pasted on a polite smile for his employee.

“Good evening, Jenna.” He pulled a chair out for her and waited.

“Hello, Liam.” She took the seat and he pushed it in, careful not to touch her, as she sat down.