Part-Time Wife. Сьюзен Мэллери

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СКАЧАТЬ her small, almost triangular button nose, gave her an uncomfortable resemblance to the kitten so many people likened her to.

      “I’ll just pencil in some whiskers and be done with it,” she muttered under her breath, then turned her back on the image and flipped on the shower. No wonder Craig Haynes had hired her. She looked young enough to be the perfect playmate for his kids.

      * * *

      Craig drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Now that Jill had left the room, he was able to ease up on his iron-willed self-control. It was as if the dam burst, as heated blood coursed through his body, settling inappropriately in his groin. He walked to the window and stared out blindly. He hoped his new nanny believed in taking long showers. He was going to need the extra time to get himself back under control.

      He could handle the fact that she was an attractive woman, although the petite pixie look had never been his type. Big green eyes and a smile that promised two parts humor and one part sin was okay with him, too. The tousled just-out-of-bed look was a bit more of a problem, but he knew he would have been able to keep it all together…if she hadn’t been naked.

      He swore under his breath. He’d been so worried about the boys, he hadn’t noticed at first. But when she’d settled on the sofa, her full breasts had been evident beneath the thin fabric of her robe. He hadn’t had a date in two years. He hadn’t been with a woman for even longer. Unfortunately, his body had chosen that moment to surge back to life.

      Even with her out of the room and only the faint hint of her perfume lingering in the air, he could feel the need flowing through him. He wanted to go to her and hold her in his arms. He wanted to kiss her and—

      “Stop it,” he said aloud.

      He had to get control. All that mattered was finding someone to take care of the boys. Jill Bradford was only a stopgap. He was going to have to find someone permanent. As if he had the time.

      He rubbed the back of his neck. The dull ache that began between his shoulder blades and worked its way up his neck had become a permanent companion. Now it stepped up a degree in intensity. He would start interviewing right away. The agency swore they didn’t have anyone else to send him, but there had to be someone. Maybe the perfect nanny was about to leave her job somewhere else. He could only hope.

      He heard footsteps overhead. He thought about all he knew about Jill. Kim had mentioned she was recovering from a messy divorce. He could relate to that. He’d gone through the same thing nearly six years ago. Krystal had wanted out, but she hadn’t made it easy. He’d hung on as best he could, trying to be both mother and father to the boys. He’d thought he was doing well, until this last year.

      What had gone wrong? Was it the hours he put in? He didn’t usually volunteer for special assignments, but this one was different. There wasn’t a lot of glory involved. No big drug busts, no fifteen minutes of fame on the local news report. Just directly helping those in need. He’d wanted to give something back. Were his kids paying the price for that?

      He knew some of the trouble with the boys was that they’d lost Mrs. Miller. She’d been a part of their lives for nearly five years. Coming on the heels of their mother’s death—Craig shook his head. No wonder the boys weren’t themselves.

      He’d done his best to keep it from happening, but history was repeating itself again. He was gone a lot, as his father had been. He was failing his kids, and he wasn’t sure how to make it better.

      A thunk from the top of the stairs broke through his musings. He walked through the living room and into the hallway. Jill was dragging down a suitcase almost as big as she was.

      “I’ll get that,” he said, taking the stairs two at a time.

      “I can manage,” she said politely, then stood aside to let him pick up the case. It wasn’t very heavy, but she was so tiny, how big could her clothes be?

      “Is this it?” he asked when he reached the first floor.

      She nodded. “I can come back and get whatever I’ve forgotten.” She had a purse over her shoulder. She shook it once, then frowned. “Keys. I need keys.”

      While she glanced at the small table in the entryway, then patted her pockets, he studied her. She’d made a quick change. Her short red hair was still damp from her shower. Bangs fell nearly to her delicate eyebrows. The style left her small ears bare. She’d put on some makeup. With it, she looked older, although not anywhere near thirty, which he knew she was. She wore faded jeans that hinted at the curvy legs he’d seen just a few minutes before. The baggy white sweatshirt dwarfed her small frame. She’d pushed up the sleeves, exposing finely boned hands and wrists.

      He had the uncomfortable feeling that a man as big as himself could easily crush her if he wasn’t careful.

      “My keys,” she muttered, shaking her purse again. “Come on, Jill, you usually have it together.”

      “But do you usually talk to yourself?” he asked.

      She looked startled, as if she’d forgotten he was there. Then she grinned. “Yeah, I usually do. Sorry. You and the boys will have to get used to it.”

      “Don’t worry. I talk to myself, too. A hazard of the job. Too much time alone.” He motioned toward the front door. “Are those your keys in the lock?”

      She turned around and stared. “Oh. Thanks.”

      He pulled them free. “Not a good idea to keep them here. If someone breaks in you want to make it hard, not easy. By leaving the keys in the door, you let him walk out the front, like he belongs here.” He shifted the keys until he held the one to her car. “Not to mention giving him a nice late-model vehicle to steal.”

      “Yeah, yeah, I know. But if I don’t keep them in the door, I lose them.”

      “You lost them anyway.”

      She stared at him, then reached for her keys. He let them fall in her palm, rather than risk direct contact. Her expression turned thoughtful.

      “Craig, do you ever go off duty?”

      “Not usually.”

      “How do the boys feel about that?”

      Her green eyes saw too much, he thought grimly. He raised the suitcase slightly. “Do you need anything else?” he asked.

      “Nope. I’m ready.” She followed him out onto the porch, then locked the door behind them. “What, no patrol car?”

      He pointed to his two-year-old Honda. “Sorry, no. There’s a utility vehicle at the house so you can cart the boys and their sports equipment around, but I use this to get back and forth to the station.”

      Her red Mustang convertible was parked in the driveway. She opened the trunk and he set the suitcase inside. “Get many tickets in this?” he asked.

      “It looks flashy, but I never drive fast. I know that’s disappointing, but at heart I’m pretty boring.”

      He was about to tell her he wouldn’t have used that word to describe her. Cute, maybe. Tempting, probably. Sexy, definitely. But boring? Not in this lifetime. And any man who thought that obviously had his head up his—

      He СКАЧАТЬ