Marie Ferrarella - Your Baby or Mine?

He had a nice smile, she thought. Not merely a pleasant one, a really nice one. A smile that spoke of sincerity and went straight to the soul. Taking pity on him, she gently eased him off the hook.

“Well, the words pretty and beautiful can’t be held against you, but, no, you’re not.” She saw a woman waving at her to catch her attention. “I’m afraid I have to hurry you along, Mr. Beckett. What is your point?”

Alec felt disgusted with himself. How the hell could a man who could conduct meetings involving several hundred people be so tongue-tied when it came to talking to just one petite woman?

Because he wasn’t in his element, he reminded himself. His element contained software programs, computers. Sterile things, not things that required a sterilized environment. He glanced down at Andrea who was once again attempting to see just how much of his sweater she could stuff into her mouth. With an inward sigh, Alec eased the expensive wool out past tiny pink lips.

Marissa was beginning to edge away. If he didn’t talk quickly, he knew he was going to lose her. “My nanny quit.”

She couldn’t help herself. The declaration begged for a comeback. “Aren’t you a little old for a nanny, Mr. Beckett?”

For a second he thought she was serious. The amusement in her eyes set him straight. Humor. He realized that in the past year he’d almost forgotten how to laugh.

“No, I mean, Andrea’s. Andrea’s nanny quit.”

She stood on her toes, as if that would make her voice carry better. “I’ll be right there, Mrs. Stewart,” she promised the woman who was waving at her. Marissa turned back to Beckett, laying a hand on his arm. The moment instantly turned private.

“I know.” Marissa laughed. “Forgive me, but you looked as if you needed to be teased a little. I’m sorry, it was a poor joke. You were saying?”

Her eyes were so brilliant, so animated, they reminded him of the lake outside his window when the sun reflected on the calm water. It took him a second to retrieve his thoughts from their grasp.

Andrea, frustrated that she couldn’t teeth on her father’s sweater, squealed. “Andrea’s nanny quit last night and I was wondering if—”

Marissa nodded, finishing his thought. “I know of anyone for the job?”

She was only half right. “Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of you for the job.”

Marissa blinked. Had she missed something? Why would Beckett think that she needed a job? In light of what was presently going on in her life, the suggestion was particularly stunning.

“Me?”

She looked dumbstruck. Oh, God, he hoped he hadn’t insulted her somehow. But he was desperate and desperate men did desperate things. Alec began talking quickly. “Yes, you’d be perfect. The kids all seem to respond to you.”

He’d already said that, she thought. Marissa began moving toward Mrs. Stewart again. She did have a job to do and she wasn’t seeing to it by standing here, talking to him.

“Well, I thank you for the compliment, but as you can see, I already have a job. One that I really should be doing."

He wasn’t giving up that easily. Not after seeing the way Andrea took to her. Andrea had always cried whenever a new nanny came into her life.

“Is this full-time? Your job?” God, just listen to him. He was talking as if English were his second language.

Teaching the classes was only a part-time job. Luckily, she did have Antonio’s child support checks. Though he had loudly proclaimed himself not to be father material, that much he had been willing to give of himself. The checks, the scholarship money the university had awarded her and an incredible ability to live on a shoestring was all she really needed.

Marissa saw no reason to go into any of that with Beckett “No, but my time is pretty well taken up.”

“With Christopher?” It didn’t take a genius to guess that.

Her smile was so wide it dominated her face and slipped up into her eyes. “Yes.”

Alec pounced. He’d been prepared for that objection when he’d made his offer. “You could bring him with you. What I really need is a live-in nanny.” It would make things a lot easier, but he could be flexible. Desperate men were. “But since you’re married, I could—”

Maybe she should clear that up, she decided. There was no reason to have Beckett laboring under a misconception.

“I’m not married. Anymore,” she added. “But that’s not the problem, Mr. Beckett. I go to school three nights and one day a week.”

He only heard what he needed to hear. “You’re not married?”

He wasn’t getting the message. “No,” Marissa said firmly. “But—”

Alec’s mind moved faster than her protest. “Then you could be a live-in.”

“If I needed to be, but—”

Relief was a heady thing and he let it wash over him. He hadn’t expected to get this lucky. Thank God he’d opted to register for this class.

“This is great. I work at home two to three days a week.” It was part of Bytes and Pieces’ policy to help solve Southern California’s escalating gridlock problem rather than add to it. All that had been needed was a terminal connected to the main computer at the office and he was on his way. “Something could be worked out.”

Temporarily forgetting about Mrs. Stewart, Marissa addressed the more pressing problem: getting through Beckett’s thick head. She raised her voice. “Yes, if I wanted it to, but, Mr. Beckett, you’re missing a crucial point here.”

He ceased mentally patting himself on the back. “I am?”

“Yes.” She looked up at him, carefully enunciating each word. “I said no.”

The foundation of the Arch of Triumph he was constructing suffered a terminal crack. He tried to smooth it over.

“Not in so many words,” Alec observed quickly.

The man had to be a salesman. “Actually, in a lot of words, some of which you wouldn’t allow me to get out. I have a very full schedule and I really don’t need to take on any more right now.”

He had a feeling about Marissa and Andrea. She would be good for his daughter. He wasn’t about to give up without a fight. “How much are they paying you here?”

His question caught her off guard. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”

Alec shook his head. He wasn’t trying to pry, he was trying to win. “Money is never personal. It’s a very public thing. Whatever it is, I can double it.”

The man didn’t know how to take no for an answer. Given his looks and the expensive cut of his clothing, she suspected that he probably didn’t hear it very often. “I take it that you’re used to getting what you want?”

He realized that honesty carried weight with her. It was gut feeling, but he went with it.

“No, just not used to being this desperate. I’ve had four nannies for Andrea in a year. Four women I hand-picked after long, exhausting sessions of talking to enough women to easily fill up a convention hall. They all came from reputable agencies and had long, glowing references in their possession, but things just didn’t work out.”

She wondered if the women left because of some problem that had to do with him. She couldn’t see how it could have been because of Andrea. “Why is that?”

He thought for a moment, trying to remember. “Ellen left because she fell in love with someone who was leaving town. Celeste decided that she wasn’t cut out to be a nanny. I fired Sue. Ingrid, the first nanny, retired. I think Andrea might have had something to do with that. There’s no getting away from the fact that she’s a handful.” He thought of Christopher. Andrea was positively docile in comparison. “But I think you’re used to that.”

Marissa couldn’t help smiling. Christopher was a live wire by anyone’s definition. “You might say that.”