Teresa Southwick - Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me - Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me

“You’re going to work?” she asked.

“I’m late for a meeting,” he explained.

Of course he was. This was just another day at the office to him. What had she expected?

That was the thing. Until she’d taken each step and realized otherwise, she hadn’t been aware of having expectations. Getting married felt like a big deal to her, but to him it was simply the first business deal of the day.

She’d never expected to be sad and disappointed on her wedding day.

It was his wedding day.

“Night,” Jason said to himself, something tightening inside him.

He tossed back the remainder of the Rémy Martin in his glass as he glanced around his study, noting that everything was the same. The lie echoed through him and collided with the heat that still lingered from kissing Maggie after their vows. The sensation was a lot like what happened when cold and hot air smashed together. Turbulence. Tornado.

All day he’d tried to get her off his mind. Some of it was about the bruised look in her eyes when his driver had left him at the office and Maggie realized her wedding day would be nothing out of the ordinary.

The devil of it was that there’d been nothing pressing workwise and he could have taken her someplace special for lunch. He hadn’t because it was important to set a tone for the marriage. They were husband and wife in name only per their deal. What had seemed like a good idea at the time didn’t look as rosy from this side of the marriage license.

Like every other night since she’d been his nanny, Maggie was bathing the baby and he was working in the study. He wanted to be with them but was keeping to his protocol of establishing a pattern. It seemed important until tension and heat ground through him.

He shot to his feet, grabbed his empty glass and went to the sideboard where he kept the cognac. After pouring another shot, he drank it down, glad for the burn in his throat and the scorching all the way to his gut. For that few seconds the scalding was all he could think about. When it subsided, there was still a vision of Maggie and the innocently seductive way she’d slid her tongue over her soft lips after he’d kissed her.

The phone rang and Jason was grateful for the distraction. “Yes?” he said into the receiver.

“Mr. Garrett, it’s Peter Sexton.”

The doorman. “What is it, Peter?”

“Sir, a Mr. Hunter Garrett is here to see you.”

His father. “Send him up, Peter.”

“Right away, sir.”

The old man usually stopped by Garrett Industries corporate offices if he had something to say. This must be important. Jason had a pretty good idea what it was about.

When the bell rang, he opened the door. “Hi, Dad.”

“Jason.”

Hunter marched right in. “I need to talk to you.”

“I figured.” He shut the door. “Let’s go in my study.”

Jason led the way down the hall and held out a hand for his father to take one of the chairs in front of the desk. It occurred to him for the first time that the pretentious leather and gold buttons suited his father much better than his nanny. There was a resemblance between Hunter and himself, but he’d gotten his dark eyes and hair from the maternal DNA, not that he remembered much about the woman who’d birthed him. The few pictures he’d managed to find confirmed it.

The man who’d sired him was often called distinguished and that was fair. He was tall, and a personal trainer hammered him into fitness. Silver streaked his brown hair and his blue eyes, never brimming with warmth, were glacial at the moment.

“Would you care for a drink?” Jason asked him.

“Yes.”

He poured another and set it down in front of his father before taking a chair on the other side of the desk. “How are you, Dad? How’s Tracy?” Wife-to-be number five.

“Fine.” The older man downed the contents of his glass, then leaned forward. “I didn’t come to update you on me or my fiancée.”

“Then why did you come?”

“What’s going on, Jason?”

“Care to be more specific?”

“Don’t be coy.” For the first time Hunter’s eyes were warm. Must have a lot to do with the glare. “There was a disturbing rumor on the news about the president of Garrett Industries at the Clark County Courthouse with an unidentified woman.”

“I see.” If his thoughts hadn’t been so preoccupied with Maggie, he’d have seen this coming. Marriage licenses were public record and he didn’t have an especially low profile. Someone was bound to notice. Call him perverse, but he was going to make his father work for this. He stared down the old man without saying more.

“I put in a call to Blake Decker.”

“Oh?” What did that say about father-son communication that he called the attorney for information? “What did he say?”

“Nothing. He cited attorney-client privilege. That means he’s your lawyer. Since when, Jason?”

“Today.” Technically he’d had representation since making the call to draw up all the papers. But they’d been signed today. And he’d had his five-hundred-dollar-an-hour lecture on the potholes and pitfalls of ball-and-chain lane.

“Who’s the woman?”

“Since I didn’t see the news, I can’t be sure who you’re referring to.”

Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “The one at the courthouse. Who is she?”

“Her name is Margaret Mary Shepherd.” Garrett, he added to himself.

“What is she to you?”

That was actually a very good question and something he’d been trying to figure out, what with the lopsided amount of time he’d been thinking about her. But he’d throw his dad a bone here. “She’s Brady’s nanny.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re fooling around with the nanny.”

“All right. I won’t tell you.”

Silver eyebrows drew together as he scowled. “Are you aware that the price of stock can rise and fall with even a hint of scandal? Hanky panky with your nanny is a very good way to get your name in the newspapers for all the wrong reasons.”

His father should know. Marital escapades were his stock in trade. “Look, Dad, I’min charge of the company now. You’re chairman of the board of directors of Garrett Industries.”

“I’m also your father.”

“Yeah.” By the tone he was assuming the old man felt the family connection gave him free rein over his life. “What’s your point?”

“In this news item there was mention of a marriage license. So just why were you at the courthouse with her?”

“I married Maggie, Dad.”

The old man wasn’t often speechless and historically it didn’t last long. “You’re married? Legally?”

“Yes.”

“At least you had the good sense to consult Blake.”

“What? No congratulations?” Jason asked.

Without comment his father went on, “Did she sign a prenup?”

“She did.” The rest of their terms were none of the old man’s business.

“Good. If you made an honest woman of her there’s no impropriety. No lawsuits for harassment.”

“For what it’s worth, the confidentiality agreement she originally signed is legally enforceable if breached. And The Nanny Network does thorough and extensive background checks on its employees.”

“What is her background?”

Jason remembered Maggie’s flare of temper when she assumed he was judging her for being abandoned at Good Shepherd. He decided to keep that part to himself and go with the later years. “Maggie was in the convent.”

“She’s a nun?” Hunter stared at him, again speechless.

“Not quite. She didn’t take final vows.” Jason finished the cognac in his glass.

The wheels were turning in Hunter’s head and a crafty look slid into his eyes. “So she played hard to get.” He nodded knowingly. “Marriage will put to rest any hint of impropriety while you fool around with her.”