Michelle Douglas

The Maid, The Millionaire And The Baby


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sooner the better, please.’

      He tossed his phone to the coffee table and scratched a hand across his head. It was entirely unreasonable to ask Imogen to be on call with the baby all the hours of the day and night. It contravened every workplace agreement he subscribed to. It was unethical. He’d taken great pains to ensure his company’s workplace practices were above reproach. It was especially important now to continue in the same vein.

      Besides, neither Katherine nor Imogen were the kind of women to be browbeaten by a domineering boss. Not that he was domineering, but he wouldn’t be able to cajole either one of them into doing something they didn’t want to do. There was a part of him that was glad about that. It indicated that they had integrity. It was important right now to surround himself with people of integrity.

      The sofa dipped a little as Imogen sat beside him. ‘I want to pat your back much the same way as I am little George’s at the moment.’

      He met warm brown eyes flecked with green and filled with sympathy. He straightened. ‘Please don’t.’ The thought of her touching him…

      He cut the thought off.

      George had nestled his head in against her shoulder and noisily sucked a dummy, while she rubbed slow, soothing circles to his back—lulling and hypnotic. It took a force of will to lift his gaze back to her face. Up this close he could see the light spattering of freckles across her nose.

      ‘Of course I’d not do anything so forward. But it’s obvious your nephew’s arrival has come as something of a shock.’

      Understatement of the century.

      ‘I think I should leave you in peace for the next hour or so to read your sister’s letter, and to take stock of the situation. I’ll keep this little guy with me for the present.’

      That was kind, but…

      ‘Wait,’ he said as she started to rise.

      She subsided back to the sofa. He let out a low breath. He wasn’t ready to read Emily’s letter yet. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to believe a single word it said. ‘You honestly believe that between the three of us, we’d be able to look after the baby?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘How would you see that working?’

      She shrugged, and her chin-length hair—a mass of dark curls—bounced and bobbed. ‘A little bit of give and take on all sides, I expect. Though probably mostly from yours.’

      He didn’t like the sound of that much. Still…needs must. ‘In what way?’

      ‘You’d need to cut down on some of your working hours to help out with George.’

      He’d expected that.

      ‘Mind you, that could be a good thing. Seems to me you work too hard anyway.’

      The moment the words left her mouth, she shot back in her seat. ‘I can’t believe I just said that. It was way too personal and completely out of line. I’m sorry.’

      She was holding his nephew, rubbing his back—and she spoke the truth—so he let it pass. He worked long hours because, like the swimming and the running, it helped to keep the demons at bay. Keeping busy kept him sane. For the duration of the baby’s stay he’d simply be busy helping look after him instead of wrestling with complicated computer code. It wouldn’t have to be any different from his current routine.

      ‘And while George is here, you might need to…’

      He raised an eyebrow.

      ‘Lower your standards of cleanliness.’

      He blinked.

      ‘If I’m looking after George for part of the day and night, I’m not going to have the same amount of time to devote to cleaning your house.’

      ‘That’s fine with me.’ In fact, it was more than fine. ‘Ms Hartley, you’ve vacuumed and dusted these rooms every day since you arrived. Now far be it from me to question your work practices—I’ve never been to housekeeping school, so I don’t know what the norm is—but don’t you think vacuuming every day is overkill? I’m tidy in my habits, don’t tramp mud into the house on a regular basis, and don’t have children or dogs—’ He broke off to glance at the baby in her arms. ‘I don’t usually have children or dogs to stay.’

      ‘But Aunt Katherine said you had the highest expectations when it came to—’ She broke off, biting her lip.

      What on earth had Katherine been telling her niece?

      He pushed the thought away. He had more pressing concerns at the moment. ‘I’m happy to relax the current cleaning standards.’ He pulled in a breath. ‘There’s just one other little problem in your proposed plan.’

      ‘Which is?’

      His stomach churned. ‘I don’t have the first idea about babies. I don’t have a clue how to feed them or what to feed them or how to prepare whatever it is that you do feed them. I’ve never changed a nappy. The thought doesn’t fill me with a great deal of enthusiasm, admittedly, but evidently it’s a chore I’m not going to be able to avoid. And precisely how do you bathe a baby without drowning it? Don’t they get slippery and hard to hold? That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, if you ask me.’

      She smiled, the green sparks in her eyes dancing, and the impact of it hit him in the middle of his chest, making his heart thump.

      ‘I can teach you all of those things easy-peasy. But there are a couple of other things you’ll need to learn too, like cuddling and playing. Both are vital to a baby’s development.’

      Before he knew what she was about, she’d leaned forward and set the baby on his lap, and he wanted to yell at her to take him back. But recalled, just in time, that he wasn’t supposed to yell around the baby. He wanted to shoot to his feet and race away. But he couldn’t because he had a lap full of baby.

      He wasn’t sure how the kid would’ve reacted if he’d been fully awake—with a loud verbal protest he suspected—but, drowsy as he was, he merely nestled in against Jasper’s chest. The warm weight made his heart thud, made him wonder when was the last time he’d actually touched someone? Hell! He—

      ‘Stop frowning,’ she chided gently from where she’d moved to kneel in front of him, adjusting his arm so it went fully around the baby with his hand resting on the child’s tummy. ‘We don’t want George glancing up and being frightened out of his wits by the scary man glaring at him.’

      The thought that he could so easily frighten his nephew sickened him.

      ‘I mean, that’s hard enough for a grown-up to deal with.’

      Her voice held laughter, but that didn’t stop his gaze from spearing hers. ‘I’m sorry I scared you earlier. I really didn’t mean to.’

      ‘I know that now. I overreacted, but—’

      He looped his fingers around her wrist. ‘Never apologise for trusting your instincts and being cautious. It’s better to feel a little foolish than it is to get hurt—every single time. No exceptions.’

      She stared at his hand on her wrist and nodded. She’d gone very still. Had he frightened her again? He didn’t hold her tightly. She could move away at any time… Her tongue snaked out to moisten her lips and something hot and sweet licked along his veins.

      He let her go in an instant.

      She eased away, colour high on her cheekbones. ‘Do you mind if I check the bags?’ She gestured to the muddle of bags that apparently came with a baby.

      ‘By all means. Are you looking for anything in particular?’ If she took the baby back he’d look for her.

      ‘George’s schedule.’ He must’ve looked clueless because she added, ‘Feed times, nap times…those sorts