The Nanny And Her Scrooge. DeAnna Talcott

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      “If I know my ex,” Jared went on, “she’ll call someone tomorrow to find out who I escorted to the gala. You’re going to play the part of the woman in my new, serious relationship, and you’re going to help me get full custody.”

      “I can’t,” she protested. “That seems so…deceitful. Dishonest.”

      “Not if you know my ex-wife,” he said brusquely.

      Nicki shook her head, debating, and very much aware she could still back out. The last thing she wanted was to get involved in some kind of messed-up triangle. The power struggle of two people fighting over their child had to be the worst.

      “Nicki, listen to me. If you do this, everyone gets what they want.”

      She stared at him, unable to determine whether he was telling the truth or not.

      “I promise you. It’s the best for everyone. Most of all Maddy,” he said. “My wife hasn’t paid fifteen minutes of attention to her since she got custody—and she only got that because she lived with my in-laws. They passed away last year, within months of each other, and Maddy hasn’t been cared for properly since. My ex only keeps her around because of the child support, because it gives her a little more leverage to my bank account.”

      It occurred to Nicki he was probably being honest about that. Residents jokingly claimed the Gillettes owned half of Winter Park.

      “I’m doing this for Maddy’s best interests,” Jared went on. “My ex suddenly decided she wants to get married—in some cheesy little Las Vegas chapel—and she doesn’t want Maddy hanging around.”

      Nicki blanched, knowing too well how a child could so easily be dismissed.

      “I want her,” he continued. “She’s my daughter, and I can provide for her.”

      War waged inside Nicki’s head. If she had been a vindictive person she’d say no and leave him to his own devices. Yet she’d seen enough on that ten-foot strip of mantel to know he was being sincere. She’d seen Maddy’s photos, carefully arranged like a shrine. The Gillette family did appear to be committed to each other, and she did appear to be a lovely child….

      “Even you’ll get what you want,” he said softly. “You’ll get the job, the money, everything and anything you could want. I’ll see to it.”

      There really wasn’t a choice, and Nicki knew it. She needed the job, she needed the security. Yet, it wasn’t just that…she needed a home for Christmas, and he was offering it to her. She’d be a fool to not accept.

      “I only need a fair salary,” she said shakily. “That’s all.”

      “Done.”

      Nicki’s eyes slid closed, and she wondered if she was making a pact with the devil or Scrooge. “Okay. I have a black sheath in my closet,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s nothing special, but it’s…” She shrugged somewhat helplessly as she tried to pull off one more lame joke. “Well, it’s nicer than the Santa suit. I think it’ll do.”

      Her mother loved glitzy costume jewelry and Nicki hurriedly chose the best pieces—baguette-cut earrings and a matching necklace. Jared didn’t seem to notice they were fake, but when she walked out, his eyes widened at the revealing slit in her slim skirt.

      “You’re right,” he said evenly, “this is definitely better than red velvet and fake fur.”

      Realizing that for the first time he saw her as a woman, not as an employee, not as a baby-sitter, a wave of self-consciousness washed over Nicki. She picked at a piece of nonexistent lint. “The fashion experts claim you can never go wrong with basic black.”

      “Right. It’s simple. Subtle. Sexy…”

      She offered him a sharp look, but his face was unreadable. “I don’t have a coat,” she said, “And my mother’s things are three sizes too small, so I thought…” She lifted up a fringed black wool shawl. “Will this be okay? I don’t want to embarrass you.”

      “It’s fine.”

      Taking a deep breath, she expertly draped the shawl around her shoulders, letting it cascade down her arm.

      His gaze went dark, heavy-lidded. He abruptly turned away, as if he were already bored with her game of dress-up. “It’s a nice condo. I suppose you hate to give it up.”

      While she put her wallet, keys, a few tissues, and a lipstick into her black clutch, she glanced around the sparsely decorated room. She’d always thought the upscale town house had been too modern. “No. It was my mom’s choice. She liked the location.”

      He nodded. “I noticed this photo, here on the table. Your mom?”

      Nicki hesitated uncomfortably, she didn’t want to go into it now. She didn’t want to explain heart failure to a virile man who most likely only took gasping, self-inflicted breaths when he ran five miles. “Yes,” she said, “but…I’m in the process of settling my mom’s estate.” Estate? What estate? There’d been nothing left after the medical bills and funeral expenses carved huge chunks out of her life insurance and pension.

      “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I just assumed…” To his credit, Jared didn’t press for more information, but deftly changed the subject. “You ready to make your debut?”

      She nodded, and followed him out the door. He stopped on the steps and offered up his arm. “I don’t want you to slip,” he said, indicating her strappy shoes.

      Nicki hesitated, then reluctantly linked her arm through his. Jared, she immediately learned, was rock-solid. This close, he smelled like designer aftershave and preppie wool blazers. It bothered her, to have that kind of intimate knowledge about him.

      The ride to the Ritz Carlton was inordinately quiet. Jared, she guessed, had his mind on his ex-wife. He was probably thinking of everything he needed to do before his daughter arrived. He was probably thinking of lawyers, and old memories, and how his life would change.

      “Remember,” Jared advised as he pulled into valet parking at the Ritz Carlton, “play it cool. If anyone asks, say we’ve known each other ‘awhile’ and leave it at that. We’re just making an appearance, really, and that’s all we need to do. Just so the rumors circulate and we convince Sandra this is legitimate.”

      The slit in her dress gaped when Nicki reached for her clutch. Jared’s gaze briefly strayed, and she immediately pinched the folds shut, pinning them with her hand. As if he had scorched her with his look, Nicki’s thigh tingled with heat.

      One valet opened Nicki’s door, and Jared accepted a valet check from another. He came around the corner to escort Nicki inside as a doorman held open the door. The ballroom lighting was subdued, yet Nicki couldn’t help but feel as if the air had been charged with electricity once they entered the room. They followed the maître d’ to their assigned seating at one of the front tables, with Jared pausing to glad-hand every Winter Park businessman and socialite along the way.

      Nicki, acutely conscious of the curious looks, did her best to nod and smile.

      At the table, Jared made cursory introductions.

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