Susan Meier - Nanny for the Millionaire's Twins

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Placing the star on the top of the ladder, she took the hanger from his hand and reached up to paste it to the wall.

But, even stretching as far as she could stretch, she couldn’t reach the spot she wanted. So she took another step up, to get closer to the tree, and tried again. The ladder shimmied but she took another step up. This time it downright shook. Before she could catch her balance she fell backward.

Luckily Chance caught her. Their gazes met and they both burst out laughing. But within seconds their laughter faded. His arms were wrapped around her. Her arms had looped around his neck automatically, instinctively, because she didn’t want to fall. But it felt so right to be in his arms and to have her arms around him that she didn’t want to pull them back.

His head began to descend. Slowly. From the flash of heat that came to his eyes she knew he intended to kiss her. By the time she told herself to pull away his lips had touched hers. Softly. Sweetly.

The brush of his lips was a balm to her hurting, weary soul. The well of emptiness inside her began to fill, and instead of jerking back she answered him. Her lips pressed against his every bit as softly, every bit as sweetly, as if experimenting. It had been a long time since she’d intentionally kissed a man. Though she’d expected it to feel odd, it was as natural as breathing.

Dear Reader,

Every once in a while a story comes along that surprises me. Nanny for the Millionaire’s Twins is one of those stories. I started out intending to write a book about a hero who has a chip on his shoulder. He’s had a horrible life, with a demanding, frequently dishonest dad, and he’s been running from years of emotional abuse—until his ex-girlfriend dumps their twins on him and he can’t run any more.

Enter Tory Bingham. Chance might think he has it hard, but Tory has it a hundred times harder. Still, she doesn’t flaunt her misery, or even look for understanding. Instead she helps him get through the trauma of being left by his ex-girlfriend and helps him become a daddy to his twins.

She’s loyal and honest and wonderful—and when Chance discovers she has so much more trouble in her life than he has, he’s humbled.

She changes him in a way he doesn’t expect to be changed. She challenges him in ways he doesn’t want to be challenged—even though they are star-crossed, and even though it looks as if they might not get their happily-ever-after. And if they do it will come at a great price …

In the end Chance Montgomery becomes the man he’s supposed to be. His choices are gut-wrenching and powerful. So are Tory’s. But I hope their story will inspire you.

Enjoy.

Susan Meier

SUSAN MEIERspent most of her twenties thinking she was a job-hopper—until she began to write and realised everything that had come before was only research! One of eleven children, with twenty-four nieces and nephews and three kids of her own, Susan has had plenty of real-life experience watching romance blossom in unexpected ways. She lives in western Pennsylvania with her wonderful husband Mike, three children, and two over-fed, well-cuddled cats, Sophie and Fluffy. You can visit Susan’s website at: www.susanmeier.com.

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For the hospice patients and their wonderful families

who have taught me in my years of volunteering

that the truth about life and death, love and hope,

is sometimes very simple.

CHANCE MONTGOMERY PULLED his SUV up to the big black iron gates that protected his mother’s estate. He punched in the code she’d given him, and, after the gates opened, drove along the winding lane, not surprised that nothing had changed. The leaves on the tall trees that lead to the mansion had turned red, yellow and orange, the way they always did in October in Pine Ward, Pennsylvania. The brown and gray stone mansion, his childhood home, looked exactly as it had on his eighteenth birthday, when he’d run away.

He’d left because his life was a mess. A rope of days, months and years braided together with betrayal and lies. Ironically, he was returning for the same reason. The woman he’d thought was the love of his life had left him when she realized she was pregnant with his twins. She’d never loved him, only used him as a stepping stone to get where she wanted to be in her career. Nine months later, she’d had their babies and seemed to mother them adequately for six or so months. Then suddenly two weeks ago, she’d brought them to his house and said she didn’t want them back.

Odd that it took her giving up the kids to reinforce the valuable lesson he’d learned when he’d discovered his adoptive father was actually his biological father. People couldn’t be trusted. Most looked out for themselves. He should have remembered that when she told him she’d only been with him to use him. But, no. He’d actually held out hope that even if she didn’t love him, she could love their kids.

He was an idiot.

He pulled the SUV in front of one of the garage doors, clicked off the ignition and jumped out. As if she’d been waiting for him, his mom hurried over.

“Chance, darling!” Her snow-white hair was cut short in a neat and elegant style. Her black trousers and black turtleneck with pearls made her look like the socialite that she was.

She enfolded him in the kind of embrace only a mother can pull off without looking foolish. When she stepped away, her eyes were filled with tears. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

He cleared his throat. He wished he could say the same, but the truth was he wasn’t happy to be here. He wasn’t happy he couldn’t handle his twins. He wasn’t happy his babies’ mother didn’t want to be in their lives. He wasn’t happy that every person in his life hurt him, cheated him or lied to him.

Except Gwen Montgomery. The devoted wife his father had tricked into adopting him. A woman who, even once she’d found out he was her husband’s illegitimate son, hadn’t stopped loving him.

“It’s good to be home.”

Okay. That was a bit of a lie. But how could he tell the happy woman in front of him the truth? That this house reminded him of a dad who couldn’t be trusted. That his life sucked …

He couldn’t.

She clapped her hands together. “So let me see them!”

He reached for the back door of the SUV just as a tall redhead walked out of the mansion. He would have been lying if he said he didn’t notice her face was pretty. Big brown eyes, a pert nose and full, lush lips always added up to pretty. But she wore a plain white blouse, gray pants and ugly—truly ugly—black shoes.