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“I’m so sorry,” she gushed. “Please forgive me.”

Dax offered the long fork. “Save me quick before I create a disaster.”

She grabbed an apron from inside a cupboard and tied it around her waist. “Aren’t you angry?”

“About?” He offered the fork again. She took it, reached around him, turned the burner down and the range vent on.

“I overslept. This is my job.” She poked at the bacon. The crispy strips of pork were nearly done. “I’m supposed to have breakfast on the table by now.”

He shrugged. “You were tired.”

Fatigue was never an excuse. Domestics executed their duties or found other employment.

“I can’t apologize enough.”

“You’d better not apologize again.” His tone was low and dangerous.

Her pulse skittered. She turned her attention from the bacon to her employer. He was impossibly close, his broad chest naked, the stubble of unshaved beard roguish and attractive. This man who’d taken care of her hungry daughter, started breakfast, dressed Gavin for school and wasn’t even upset to have done so.

Since that first night when she’d felt the tug of attraction, she tried to maintain a professional if friendly distance, but this morning, after his incredible kindness, she was especially aware of his appeal. He wasn’t classically handsome like Derek but he oozed rugged, masculine sex appeal. And he didn’t seem to know it.

She hadn’t thought about her appearance in a long time but suddenly she wished she were prettier. Though she’d gained little weight with Sophie, she wished her body was toned and tanned and sexy. The thought made her want to cry. She’d never been sexy. If she had been, her husband wouldn’t have found another woman before the ink was dry on their marriage license.

Sophie made a fussy sound. Before she could react, Gavin poked the pacifier into the baby’s mouth. Jenna rewarded him with a smile and then went back to the bacon, lifting the strips out of the pan and onto a plate.

Enough thoughts of sex appeal. She was here to do a job, to provide for her child, not moon over her employer’s pectorals. And she was already running late.

“Sophie must have slept through the night,” she said, scuttling about the kitchen, quickly taking breakfast items from the refrigerator and cupboards. “I’m sure that’s why I overslept. After her two o’clock feeding, I’m usually half-awake until the alarm rings at five-thirty.”

Dax leaned his jean-covered behind against the counter and crossed his arms over the appealing chest, expression amused. “Not.”

She paused, carton of milk in hand. “What?”

“Sophie didn’t sleep through the night. Just her mama.”

The milk carton plunked onto the table. “You mean?” Dax had gotten up with her in the middle of the night? “Oh Dax, I’m so—”

Before she could apologize again, he lifted a finger in warning. “Uh-uh. Careful there. A tired mama needs rest. I was already awake. No need troubling you. Sophie and I did all right.”

The tension in her shoulders relaxed. He really wasn’t angry. “I suppose my brilliant daughter recognized a true expert while I, on the other hand, am still a novice, struggling much of the time to get her diaper on frontward.”

Dax grinned. Oh my. He was luscious when he smiled. The tiny lines of weathering crinkled white near his eyes and increased his craggy attractiveness.

Aware she was staring, she spun toward the counter where boxed pancake mix awaited. Thank goodness, she’d had the good sense and had spent enough time researching on the Internet to understand the value of prepackaged goods. She wondered if the Carrington cooks had ever been allowed to use such conveniences. Knowing Elaine, probably not.

“She’s a greedy little kitten,” Dax was saying. “She likes her bottle right on time.” He bumped against her side. “Need any help here?”

“Would you mind pouring juice?” Beating the lumpy batter, she glanced at the clock. “Gavin’s time is running out.”

The boy piped up. “I could stay home, Miss Jenna. Help you out around here.”

Batter sizzled against the hot pan, sending up a wave of scent and heat. Jenna and Dax exchanged amused glances.

“You’re exceedingly gracious to offer, Gavin, but your education is far too important. May I count on your help on Saturday?”

Gavin’s forehead puckered. “After cartoons?”

Dax, a cup of coffee to his lips, sputtered with laughter. Jenna giggled. “After cartoons will do nicely. Thank you.”

She slid the hot pancakes onto a plate which she set in front of Gavin while simultaneously scooting Sophie’s carrier out of the way. The baby once again dozed, undisturbed by the sights and sounds swirling around her.

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