Mac knocked on her bedroom door and stepped inside, a clean and happy Henry on his arm.
Closing the closet door where she’d stowed her suitcase, Ellie faced him. “Ready for the tour?”
“Yes.” Mac led her out of her suite and to the right. He pointed at the door beside the nursery door. “This leads to my suite.”
“Okay.”
She didn’t like the warmth that bubbled in her middle with the realization that their bedrooms were so close. Fear or apprehension wouldn’t have surprised her. But anticipation? That was ridiculous and wrong. She’d sworn off men forever. The proximity of their bedrooms shouldn’t matter. Plus, her suite had its own bathroom. She wouldn’t be venturing into the hall in her night-clothes or wrapped in a towel before or after a shower—neither would he. She had nothing to fear and nothing to worry about—except maybe this crazy attraction which seemed to have a life of its own.
Mac opened the next door. With a motion of his hand he invited her to peek into the pink-and-white room. “And this is Lacy’s room. Also close enough for you to hear her if something happens.”
Glad to have her mind moving off his master suite and to the kids, Ellie said, “Good.”
Walking again, they passed eye-popping red statues and etchings done in cocoa-brown ink. Behind a curving cherrywood staircase, a wall of windows displayed a panoramic view of the canal. Sharp, contemporary accent chairs with chrome arms and legs and nubby yellow fabric backs and seats sat by tall, thin chrome lamps. The floor was a warm honey-colored hardwood. Once again she thought of a museum.
“These two doors,” Mac said, pointing to the right and then the left, “lead to two guest suites.”
They turned a corner. Mac pointed at two doors on opposite sides of the hall. “Two more guest suites.”
“Of course.”
“I don’t have guests often,” Mac continued, leading her down the hall. Over his shoulder, blue-eyed Henry grinned toothlessly at Ellie.
She smiled and waved.
“And won’t be having any guests at all until I’ve hired a permanent maid.” He paused at a set of double doors. After shifting Henry on his forearm, he opened them, revealing a laundry room complete with a bright red washer and dryer, a folding table, carts, baskets and cherry wood cabinets that she assumed held laundry detergent and the like.
Smiling her professional household employee smile, Ellie said, “Okay.”
“You can easily gather everyone’s laundry, wash it, dry it, press it in here and return it to the proper room.”
With that he closed the doors and directed her back down another hall.
“As you can see, we’re making a full circle. These steps,” Mac said as they approached the set of back stairs, “are the same ones we used to get up here.”
They started down the wooden steps and at the bottom turned left to enter the kitchen.
“We have a very simple floor plan.”
Glancing around the kitchen, Ellie said, “Yes.”
“Okay, now for the first floor.”
Mac led her out of the kitchen, down a short hall and turned right into a room that had to be the playroom. The back wall held cherrywood bookcases and built-in cupboards, probably for storing toys, and a wide-screen TV. A thick brown-and-red print rug sat in the middle of the hardwood floor. Otherwise, the room was without furniture. Unless you counted the bright blue plastic table and chairs with accompanying yellow plastic dishes and cups where Lacy sat—probably having an imaginary tea party—and the beige plastic stove, refrigerator and sink that Ellie recognized from her last trip to a toy store.
Looking up from her tea party, Lacy said, “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi, sweetie. You remember Ellie.”
She nodded enthusiastically, her fine blond hair bobbed around her.
“Hi, Lacy. I like your playroom.”
Lacy only grinned and nodded again.
Mac walked over to his daughter, who tugged on his pant leg to get his attention.
“Daddy, I’m hungry.”
Though Lacy tried to whisper, her voice came out loud and clear.
“Okay.” Mac faced Ellie. “Can we finish our tour later?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
Mac said, “Great,” and headed for the doorway on the right. “Let’s go make something for lunch.”
Lacy’s face brightened as Ellie’s stomach fell to the floor. She hadn’t had time to get the cookbook yet! What would she do if Mac asked for something Ellie had no idea how to prepare?
Before she could panic Lacy said, “Can we have peanut butter sandwiches and ice cream?”
Walking into the hall, Mac laughed. “We’ll negotiate the ice cream after you’ve eaten the sandwich.”
Still carrying Henry, Mac left the room with happy Lacy skipping behind him. Ellie took a minute to breathe a sigh of relief before she bounded out of the room. She caught up with them in the kitchen.
Sliding Henry into a highchair, Mac said, “Now that I think about it, Ellie, you could actually finish the tour of the rest of the house by yourself. Dining room and living room are at the front of the house. Over there is the family room.” He pointed at the area beside the kitchen with the leather furniture and big-screen TV. “My office is above the garage, but there’s no reason for you to go there.”
He straightened away from the highchair. “While I feed the kids, you can make a list of what needs to be done cleaningwise. Then when the children and I are done, you can clean the kitchen and get started with supper.”
“Okay.”
He smiled patiently. “Okay.”
Not exactly sure what happened with lunch and feeling oddly dismissed, Ellie turned and walked out of the kitchen. It wasn’t that she had a burning need to make peanut butter sandwiches. She felt unnecessary. He’d insisted that she start today, yet she wasn’t doing any of the things he’d hired her to do. No. He wouldn’t let her do any of the things he’d hired her to do.
Her intuition tried to tell her that something was wrong with this situation, but she ignored it, as she intended to do for the rest of her stay here. After all, her intuition had already steered her wrong about taking this job. She wasn’t letting it in on any more decision making.
And she certainly wasn’t about to let it spark her imagination. That would only result in her becoming too curious about this man and his adorable children and asking some very inappropriate questions. Like what kind of woman would leave such wonderful kids and such a handsome, courteous husband?
Unless Mac had only been putting on a good front for her?
Because he had custody of his kids she automatically assumed he was a good man.
But what if he wasn’t?
What if he had his kids because he was an overbearing rich guy who threw his weight around to get everything he wanted?
What if she was about to spend the next several weeks living with another man like Sam?
Chapter Three
AFTER lunch, Mac took the kids out on his yacht for the afternoon. Standing in the kitchen in front of the French doors, Ellie watched the boat pull away from the dock, grateful for a few minutes to herself.
She had silenced her concerns that Mac might be like Sam by reminding herself of two things. First, she didn’t know Mac. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions. And second, Mac genuinely seemed to like his kids, to