Page 30 of Falling for the Nanny

I gave her my blandest look. “Of course.”

“You haven’t seemed happy in a long time,” she observed.

I stretched my mouth into a parody of a smile. “Better?”

My mother frowned. “Don’t be glib, David. I’ve been concerned.”

I carried my dish to the sink, letting her words sink in. “You don’t need to worry about me,” I said finally. “I have everything I need.”

“Oh, more than everything you need,” she agreed. “But honestly, you haven’t been the same since Chloe.”

That made me pause. I thought I’d taken Chloe’s defection remarkably well. After all, I’d seen it coming. Without missing a beat, I’d asked Mrs. Barnes to come on full time as a live-in nanny and I’d gotten on with things. I’d been angry at Chloe, but more for leaving Lily than me. I told my mother as much, and she shook her head.

“No, I don’t mean since Chloe left. I mean you haven’t been the same since you met that abominable woman.”

Instinctively, I stepped out into the great room to make sure Lily wasn’t listening at the walkway above. She’d likely find her own reasons to resent Chloe one day, but she wasn’t going to inherit mine. Or my mother’s.

“I’m fine,” I said, my tone making it clear that this conversation was over. “I’ve been fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Finally, my mother went back upstairs and I went back to the pool house. I’d been gone longer than I intended, so I eased the bedroom door open to check on Cat. A single moonbeam slanted in from a gap in the blinds. It fell across the bed, and when my eyes adjusted, I could see Cat was curled up on her side. Her back was to the window, and her hair was a flood across the pillow. She’d shoved the blankets down again at some point, and her silky little tank top that had highlighted more than it concealed was riding up, showing her flat stomach. My mouth went dry looking at her. Even asleep, even sick, she was beautiful, and I wanted her.

I’d been planning to sleep on the couch in the main room, but her last word, whispered as she drifted off to sleep, came back to me.

Stay.

An invitation. I gripped the doorframe, wrestling with the decision. I wanted to crawl into bed beside her, feel her curl against me, stroke that silky soft hair and fall asleep next to her. But the temptation would be too much. Instead, I pulled up the small, comfortable chair that sat by the window and watched her.

Part of me knew that Cat was rapidly becoming an unmanageable situation, but it was a small part, easily drowned out by the unexpected need that roared through me whenever I was close to her like this.

I stayed close to her for the next two days. She was asleep, or only half conscious, for most of it. Her fever lasted longer than Lily’s. I was considering taking her to the doctor when, finally, on the third evening, it broke.

“How do you feel?” I asked when she woke up, more clear eyed and coherent than she’d been since the day she got sick.

Cat made a face. “Gross.” She pulled the covers up to her chin and shot me a feeble glare. “Don’t look at me.”

A laugh of relief rumbled in my chest. She finally sounded like herself. It was a pale shadow of her snappy defiance, but it was better than the limp doll she’d been for days.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Cat ordered. “And go away. I have to take a shower.”

“I’ll go in the other room, but I’m not leaving the pool house,” I warned. “Not until you’ve eaten and I know you can walk ten feet without passing out.” True to my word, I went into the other room. Through the door, I could hear her halting footsteps. The sound of the shower cranking on. I listened while I worked, worried I’d hear the sound of a girl who hasn’t had a proper meal in days hitting the shower floor. But though it seemed to take a very long time, she emerged from the bedroom a while later, her hair wet around her shoulders, her eyes big in her face, wearing a pair of shorts and a V-neck T-shirt.

“You look better,” I said shortly.

Cat shuddered. “I hate to think what I looked like before.”

Fucking beautiful.

I stood up and gestured toward the door. “Come on. Let’s see what my mom and Lily are cooking for dinner over there.”

Cat moved slower than usual, and I had to stuff my hands in my pockets to keep myself from putting an arm around her waist and telling her to lean on me. I couldn’t do that shit. She wasn’t mine to support. Hell, we hadn’t even slept together. And for damn good reasons, though it was getting harder and harder to remember what those reasons were.

Inside, my small family was thrilled to see us. I thought my mom would be good for at least a handful of snarky comments about how she hadn’t known I was such a Florence Nightingale-type, but she didn’t say a word. She and Lily swarmed around Cat, making sure she had everything she needed, telling us every little detail of what they’d done the last few days.

“You went to high tea on Tuesday?” I frowned. “What about ballet?”

“It was canceled,” my mother said guilelessly. She was a cool liar. The only reason I knew she wasn’t telling the truth was because I got emails when Lily’s classes were canceled, and I hadn’t gotten one this week.

I caught a ghost of a smile on Cat’s face. I felt like she and my mother were somehow in on something, but I’d be damned if I knew what. I expanded my frown to include both of them.

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