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“There’s the signal for the gate.” He pulled out his phone and saw the blue Honda Blake said she drove and her head looking out of the driver’s seat. He opened the gate and turned to his daughter. “She’s here.”
“Eeeee!”
“Careful on the stairs, Ciara,” he called to her as she raced down ahead of him.
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. When Ciara flung the front door open, all three of them went silent.
For Morgan it was because the woman standing there made his jaw drop, his tongue practically hanging out—but he composed himself as he walked forward. Blake had obviously paid more attention to her appearance today than for their last meeting. Which was only natural, since this was kind of a job interview. It had nothing to do with her seeing him again, he told himself.
She wore skinny jeans that showed off her long legs and perfect butt and a turquoise and white print blouse tucked in at her small waist, collar open, sleeves rolled up slightly. Her face was one that any of his male friends would give a “ten.” Wide hazel eyes, elegant cheekbones, full pouty lips that had some pink color on them today.
Ciara broke the silence. “Blake. I thought you would be an older lady, but you…you are beautiful!”
Blake breathed a quiet laugh, looking a little shy, but Morgan had to agree with his little girl’s assessment. “Hello, Blake. Come on in. This is my daughter, Ciara.”
“Nice to meet you, Ciara.”
“My dad said you are Mr. Sheehan’s sister. Actually, he told me to call him Harper. Is it okay if I call you Blake? And you kind of look like him. Except he has blue eyes and you’re a girl.”
“I guess we do look like brother and sister. And I’d like it if you call me Blake.”
Ciara chewed on her thumb. “I don’t have any brothers or sisters. But my dad already told you that, right?”
“Harper told me,” she said.
Morgan could see Blake was a little nervous. Was it Ciara or him or just a new situation? “Would you like something to drink? Coffee or—”
“We bought a carrot cake at the bakery!” Ciara shouted, jumping in and cutting him off in her enthusiasm. “And Daddy got the coffeemaker all ready to go. Do you like coffee?”
“Yes, I love coffee,” Blake said, smiling at her.
“I can’t have it until I’m older, but I can have chocolate milk. Do you think chocolate milk would be good with the carrot cake? My dad says they don’t go together.”
Blake lifted an eyebrow. “I confess…I think chocolate goes with anything.”
“Yes! So do I!”
“You two go sit in the living room,” Morgan said, thrilled at the easy rapport between Blake and his daughter. “I’ll bring it all in.”
“This is an amazing house,” Blake said, her head pivoting side to side as she gazed around.
“We are not completely settled in yet,” Ciara said, in her serious grown-up voice. “There are still some decorative decisions that we have to make, but we are getting there.” Ciara went on, chattering about their move across the country and where she had lived in California and her excitement about coming here. “Daddy said you were a teacher, but for older kids who are in college.”
“That’s right,” Blake said, and asked Ciara what subjects she liked in school. Then what kind of games she liked to play.
After years in the protection business, Morgan was skilled in reading behavior, an ace at anticipating a possible threat or issue, and as he watched and listened to Blake with his daughter, he felt completely comfortable about Blake being his daughter’s caretaker.
In fact, the only problem he could see was—him.
After all the famous and beautiful movie stars and models and rock stars he’d had to guard and keep his hands off of, he had never encountered one who disturbed and aroused him the way Blake did with her unpretentious beauty and unassuming sexuality.
He could tell Blake was not the kind of woman who would go in for casual sex, and Morgan had no intention of ever marrying again. So there was no way he would risk letting his fantasies of having Blake in his bed get in the way of making his little girl happy with a nanny who was right for her.
* * *
After coffee and cake—andchocolate milk—Morgan and Ciara showed Blake around this bright and airy house, and she was silently wishing all kinds of blessings on her pushy brother. How could she have insisted on staying in that eerie dilapidated cottage instead of this beautiful place that sat on a bluff overlooking the Sound?
No, it was not hers and she would be a working member of the household, but neither Morgan nor Ciara put any “servant” vibes on her.
