Rebecca Winters - The Nanny and the Millionaire - Promoted - Nanny to Wife / The Italian Tycoon and the Nanny / The Millionaire's Nanny Arrangement

But no way was he going to remain married to her.

That had precipitated another crisis but he had been adamant. He wanted a divorce.

The upshot was Tara had left Wungalla in a blind fury. She had left him with her child. I don’t want the ugly little thing! I never wanted her. She was an appalling accident. You keep her you’re so bloody sanctimonious!

Tara had left, feeling utterly secure in her belief he would remain silent on the issue of Georgia’s paternity. In many ways it was a dilemma. He didn’t believe he should live a lie. He didn’t believe Georgia should be denied the truth. But at what stage should he tell her?

A dilemma indeed, with the blue-eyed, so innocent looking Ms Devlin looking at him with naked reproach in her eyes when he was a man long used to respect.

Holt surprised them one afternoon by coming back with Dusty, saying he was going to take them all to the Blue Lotus lagoon, a permanent water hole on the station where the sacred water lilies were out in all their glory. Dusty, back in his element as a working dog, got very excited around Marissa and the children. Holt allowed them to play for a few moments then he brought Dusty to heel with a firm, ‘Sit, boy!’

Dusty did, thumping his tail good-naturedly, a grin all over his face.

‘Oh, this is such fun!’ Georgy trilled, clapping her hands together. ‘Isn’t Dusty beautiful? I always wanted a dog. Riley is going to teach me to swim, Dad, when you get me some propers swimmers. Marissa said you would.’

‘And she was absolutely right.’ Holt opened the doors of the 4WD, his heart breaking a little at the sound of that ‘Dad.’ Georgy rarely called him Dad and he had to admit he hadn’t encouraged it. ‘Okay, pile in.’

Marissa who adored the bush and had made a few early morning forays on her own when the children were still asleep, found the Blue Lotus lagoon a place of magic right in the heart of the red plains country. It was sheltered from the desert winds by towering river gums and an under canopy of feathery acacias their branches interlacing. The large lagoon was a shining dark green with great patches of the lavender-blue water lilies holding their long exquisite heads above the surface of the water and their glossy pads. It was a wonderfully cool green world in great contrast to the sun scorched plains.

Marissa hovered at the top of the grassy slope while the children accompanied by a romping Dusty took off for the sandy banks that surrounded the long near moon-shaped lagoon.

Holt, standing midway, turned back to her, unwilling to reveal how the sight of her, the sound of her, was a source of great pleasure to him. He had missed seeing her all the time he’d been away. Which just served to show what a sterile thing his life had become when really his working life had a lot of drama.

Face it. He wanted a wife. Not a stepmother for Georgy. He wanted a woman for him. This young woman, Marissa, was living, eating, sleeping, working, breathing, under his roof. He had become used to seeing her every day. His grandmother was deriving comfort and pleasure from her company. Georgy was a different child. Olly sang her praises, saying she was going to develop into a ‘great little cook.’ That was the top of the ladder for Olly and fine by him. The atmosphere at the homestead these days was one of joyous ease. He could scarcely believe it. Surely something had to go wrong!

‘Are you coming down?’

Under his brilliant gaze Marissa felt momentarily paralysed. Ever since he had come home she had been fighting down the wild bouts of excitement that flared up whenever he appeared. He was forever lurking in her mind, even when she was asleep. She couldn’t talk about her dreams, either. If they weren’t precisely erotic, they were certainly desire driven. She wasn’t a virgin. She’d had two romances she had thought serious at the time. Both young men had been kind and funny and sexy, professional young men, good catches or so her girlfriends told her. Neither had made her feel remotely like this, and just with a look!

She pulled herself together, moving down the bank, rather hoping yet fearful she would go for a slide and finish up in his arms. ‘This is such a beautiful place!’ she said in a hushed voice.

‘I knew you’d like it.’ He spoke casually when he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss that lovely soft mouth again and again. Was it his imagination or was she faintly trembling? It was hard to tell unless he touched her. Touched that flawless white skin that glowed. She was dressed simply in a ribbed tank top the same colour as her eyes and a pair of cream shorts that could never be called skimpy but nevertheless managed to draw attention to her beautiful slender legs. He never knew snowy flesh could look so good. He was used to women with tans. Even Tara who had spent a fortune on skin products had sported a golden tan.

‘What did you really think of Georgy’s singing?’ she now asked, transferring her gaze from him to the children romping happily around the banks picking up pretty shells Dusty was busy sniffing up for them. ‘You smiled but you didn’t say much.’

‘Here, sit down,’ he said, not making the mistake of touching her but indicating a sandy ledge. He waited until she moved around him to sit down, ankles and knees together like a proper young lady. He had caught himself making mental lists of the things about her that pleased him. It was a measure of her dazzling effect on him so far he had failed to find a single thing that didn’t.

‘On the contrary, I distinctly remember telling Georgia how talented she is,’ he pointed out, joining her on the ledge.

‘Of course you did!’ she said as though she had just remembered. ‘I just had the feeling you were sort of fending off that particular talent. You wouldn’t want her to be a performer when she grows up?’ She tilted her head towards him, feeding on the crackling energy that was flowing her way.

Holt glanced into her eyes—quite calmly he hoped—then across the lagoon to the opposite bank where a dozen or more parrots were pillaging the bright red berries of a native bush. He had tasted them himself and found them quite tangy. ‘I wouldn’t be in the least surprised if she made singing her career,’ he said. Why not add, after all her father is supposed to be a darn good pop singer and an excellent musician?

‘That’s all right then,’ she said more happily. ‘I thought you might have a different career in mind?’

‘Did you always want to be a teacher?’ he asked, shifting the questions to her.

Little yellow wild flowers their shoes had bruised were sending up a delicious citrusy scent all around them. Now it was Marissa’s turn to look away. The multicolours and the markings on the parrots were simply brilliant. ‘I actually wanted to become a child psychologist. I always wanted to work with children.’

‘Damaged little children?’

‘Well, yes,’ she said. ‘I was like a doctor in waiting. I wanted to help.’

‘And you were a damaged child. I expect that had a considerable bearing on your choosing such a profession. Why didn’t you go on with it?’

Why remain a mystery to him? ‘Something truly amazing happened—devastating at first—I found out I had a brother, a little half brother.’

‘Keep going,’ he said, giving thanks for her impulse to confide except she turned on him.

‘Why do you want to know so much?’ Those blue eyes flashed.

‘You started it.’ He didn’t suppress the urge to capture her wrist, feeling the tension in her. ‘Just relax. I’m your friend, not your enemy. As a matter of fact I’m your boss, but no one would ever know that. You’re so astoundingly challenging I can’t believe you’re the governess.’