Lenora Worth - Her Lakeside Family

Nate started crying.

Santo wanted to cry right along with him but he couldn’t do that. He had to be strong. He had to get to work. He needed every ounce of strength just to make it through each day. The import business the Alvanetti family had been running for decades was legitimate now and finally back in the black.

Because he’d put every waking hour into making it work.

So he grabbed Nate again and managed to get him dressed, but the boy didn’t want to go to the day care.

“I want Mommy,” the little boy cried, kicking to get out of Santo’s arms.

Nate probably didn’t remember Althea all that much but he always echoed whatever his older sisters said. The counselor had warned Santo to let his children talk about their mother but each time they mentioned her, his heart hurt with a pain that rivaled a jagged cut. It was a tear that would never heal. Promising himself he’d never go through that kind of pain again, Santo gritted his teeth and focused on his children.

The doorbell rang, the chimes echoing over the fifteen-foot-high ceiling and the modern, wood-and-steel open staircase. Outside the spring sunshine glistened on the infinity pool and the bay below the bluffs. Santo had a stunning view thanks to the wall of glass across from the living room and kitchen.

There had been a wall of glass between him and Althea, too.

But he didn’t even notice the view anymore and the guilt he’d felt at not knocking down that wall between them had long dissipated like a morning mist over the water. He’d be so glad to get out of this house. Too many bad memories for him and too many memories of her for his children. They all needed a fresh start.

“Daddy, the bus!”

“Daddy, the doorbell!”

“I want Mommy.”

He prayed the new nanny—one of many his sister, Rikki, had hired since Althea’s death—had arrived. He hadn’t met the woman but Rikki and Blain had vetted and cleared her, stating she had impeccable credentials. Santo hurried to the door and opened it while he held Nate’s squirming, screaming little body against his heart.

The woman standing there didn’t look like the typical nanny. She had strawberry-blond hair that shot out in chunky layers around her face and chin. Her eyes were an ethereal green, like the bay waters in the early morning. She wore a plaid button-up shirt, worn jeans and...work boots.

“Hello,” the woman said. “I’m—”

“I’m so glad you’re here, Mrs. Brownlee,” Santo interrupted, shoving Nate into her arms. “The instructions are on the counter in the kitchen. The girls go to Millbrook Elementary and they usually catch the bus or ride home with a neighbor. I’ll take them to school and call the neighbor to pick them up this afternoon. Nate has day care but now that you’re here, let’s just keep him home today.”

He kissed his sobbing son. “C’mon, girls.”

Nate started crying all over again. But the woman standing there marched right on in and said something soothing in his son’s ear. Nate hiccupped and stopped crying, his misty brown eyes glued on the woman holding him.

She smiled over at Santo. “I’m sorry but—”

“I want my purse,” Adriana said on a scream, her long brown curls falling over her purple tunic and matching leggings. She looked at the surprised woman. “I can’t leave without my purse.”

The pretty nanny looked at Adriana with sympathetic eyes. “Of course not. I never leave home without my—”

“Found it,” Lucia said, shoving the shiny purple shoulder bag at her little sister. “Now can I please get to school?”

Santo let out a sigh and nodded to the woman. “You don’t have to apologize but please try to be on time from now on, okay?”

The woman’s green eyes flared with something akin to mirth. “Mr. Alvanetti, I don’t think you understand. I’m not—”

“I’m here.” A shrill, laughing voice came from the open door. “And not a moment too soon from the looks of things.”

Confused, Santo turned to find a plump, smiling woman with short auburn hair and black-framed, crystal-encrusted glasses standing on the threshold. “I’m Virginia Brownlee. I’m your nanny.”

Santo looked from the smiling woman at the door to the bemused woman still holding his son. “Then who are you?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you that for the last five minutes,” she said, passing Nate back to him. “I’m Davina Connell. I’m here to help you get this house in shape to sell. I’m the contractor.”

* * *

Davina almost felt sorry for him.

Santo Alvanetti exuded power and assurance, his tailor-made suit, his hair crisp and dark and falling in touchable curls around his face and neck much in the same way as his son’s. But right now, the man’s expression filled with realization and panic, his onyx gaze darkening even more.

“I am so sorry,” he said, obviously rewinding his thoughts so he could assess the situation. “It’s been one of those mornings and I was expecting Mrs. Brownlee and I must have gotten the time wrong and...I completely forgot you would be coming by today.”

Even as he explained, one of the beautiful little girls let out a yelp and his son started crying again. While his cell buzzed over and over.

“Give me the boy,” Mrs. Brownlee said in a manner that made them all stop what they were doing. “I’ll put him in his car seat and I’ll get the girls to school. You did alert the school that I have permission to drop them off and pick them up, of course.”

His gaze moved from the prim woman to Davina. “Not yet, but I’ll put that on my list.”

“Well, let’s get on with it then,” Mrs. Brownlee said, her big glasses and boot-cut jeans made her look much too hip to be a nanny.

“Look, I’ll drop the girls at school,” he replied. “And I’ll get it all straightened out. If you can just handle Nate.”

“Nate and I will be fine,” Mrs. Brownlee replied. “When you get home tonight, I’ll go over the terms of my employment. For now, we’re all going to be okay.”

He looked from her to Davina again as if caught in a trap. Again, Davina felt empathy and sympathy for him, her heart doing a little tug that made her much too aware of how handsome the man was. “Would you walk me to my car?” he asked. “So we can discuss what needs to be done with the house?”

“Sure.” Davina smiled at Mrs. Brownlee, her heart hammering an erratic beat against her insides. “I’ll be back to look over the house and do some calculating, if that’s okay with both of you.”

Mrs. Brownlee nodded. “Won’t bother me a bit.” Giving them both an impish grin, she added, “I’ll be doing the same.”

“Let’s go, girls,” he said, prodding the two dark-haired children toward his sleek sedan. After he had the chattering, fussing girls inside the car with their seat belts on, he left the driver’s door open and turned to Davina. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know who you were. I thought my sister said David...somebody...would be coming by. I wasn’t expecting—”

“A woman?” she finished. “I’ve never been called David but my dad calls me Dani.” She spelled out the nickname for him. “I prefer Davina, however.”

“Davina,” he said, his dark eyes pouring over her like liquid chocolate. “I think I’ll remember your name from now on.”

“It’s okay,” she said to hide the sizzle of something richer and darker than even his chocolate eyes. “I was hoping we could do a walk-through on the house.”

His cell buzzed with an annoying hum. “Work,” he explained, checking it and shutting it down. “I’m late for a meeting.”

And by the way he was fidgeting, he wanted out of here.

“Well, I’m burning daylight,” she said in her firm voice that usually made surprised, unsure men sit up and take notice. “What do you want me to do?”