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Authors: Doris O'Connor

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The coffee shop had not been the place to delve
deeper into Jemima's reasoning. All of Elise's internal alarms had gone into
overdrive at the nervous way Jemima had dodged her questions. Her twin's
desperation, barely masked by her overly cheery attitude, had finally convinced
Elise to just go along with it for now. Jem would confide in her when she was
ready and not a day too soon, and there was the child to consider.

Not that Elise could stay. She would have to put
in her notice first thing tomorrow and just hope that they could find a
replacement quickly. Going back to nannying was out of the question. Already
the painful memories threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn't be around
children, she just couldn't, especially adorable little girls like Mimi.

The little one was toddling ahead of her now,
excited to be home. Jemima said she didn't talk at all, which was strange, yet
she clearly understood what was said to her.

"Ok, Mimi, give me a minute to find the
right key."

Elise rummaged around in the oversized bag that
Jemima had given her, and she grimaced, catching sight of the lime green shirt
that she had swapped with her twin sister in an effort to look more like her.
She'd refused to wear that ridiculous excuse for a skirt though, preferring to
keep her own trousers on. Her shoulder length hair, completely freed from its
bun now, was arranged in the messy style that was all Jemima.

Her twin had looked at her with a satisfied
smile. "Yeah, that should do it. He's been moaning at me to dress more
conservatively, so you never know Mr. Grumpy Pants may even crack a smile. I
wouldn't count on it, of course. Never in my life have I met a moodier man.
He'd be quite handsome if he smiled more."

"Jem, you haven't, have you?"

"Argh with him?Nah. Take a chill pill, sis,
he's not my type, and I reckon we're not his. Probably no one is actually. He's
had a succession of nannies, you know, from what I can gather, since his wife
upped and left them, and well… you'll see."

Elise remembered that conversation with a
certain amount of dread now. How she was ever going to pass for the flamboyant
sister was beyond her. They were as different as chalk and cheese in
personality; in looks they were identical right down to the two annoying
freckles on their jaw line.

Bother it all to heck and back, where is the
front door key
?

Mimi grabbed hold of the strap, and the entire
contents of the bag spilled all over the door step, yet still no key. Before
she could bend down to retrieve the contents the front door opened, and Elise
forgot to breathe. The man stood glowering down on her had to be at least six
foot two of hard muscle, perfectly showcased in vest top and low slung joggers.
She'd interrupted a workout if the fine sheen of perspiration on his face was
anything to by. Ice cold blue eyes, framed by heavy lashes, sat in a proud,
patrician face, covered in a day's worth of stubble. He raised his hand to push
his slightly too long, black hair away from his face, and the musk of hot,
sweaty male, mixed with the faint scent of his cologne invaded Elise's senses.
Her fingers itched to touch the impossibly broad shoulders, and she hastily
dropped her eyes and balled her hands into fists to resist giving in to the
impulse.
This
was Marco Giovanni?

****

Marco groaned when he opened the door to see the
devastation on his door step.
Oh goody, the nanny is back.

"
Ciao,
Mimi, where have you
been?" He smiled at his daughter who gave him a bear hug, before wriggling
to get down when she spotted Agnes the housekeeper.

"Yeah okay, just one before dinner,
Mimi." His tone turned frosty when he addressed Elise.

"I am assuming you have not allowed her to
stuff herself full of junk again? Cat got your tongue, woman? Ah let me guess,
you forgot your keys again?"

He winced taking in the shirt that, quite
frankly, ought to be burned. Damn it, he paid the woman enough to buy clothes more
in keeping with her position. At least she had some decent trousers on for a
change. His eyebrows rose when he heard her slightly breathless reply.

"Certainly not, I do not forget things, I
just...urm. Well."

"Mislaid it again, have you, Miss Donovan?
You seem to be mislaying a lot of things lately."

"Yes, well, that is about to change I can
assure you, Mr. Giovanni," she mumbled under her breath. She bent down to
retrieve the contents of her garish bag and gave him a perfect view of her
tight ass.
Hell,
he had no business noticing how the fabric of her
trousers clung to those long legs and showed the curve of her bottom off to
perfection. Who'd have thought it?
What are you doing?That's your nanny,
man. Hands off!

"Here let me help you with that. You'll be
there all day." His voice was gruffer than he intended it to be, but
bending down next to her had brought him close enough to notice her subtle
feminine scent— something light and flowery and very unique to her. How come he
never noticed how good she smelled?

"Hah, I knew I had the key. Here it
is!"

Elise straightened at the same time as he did.
Holding the key triumphantly in the air, she stepped away from him. Her foot
caught on the door step, and Marco told himself later, he had to grab her
around the waist to stop her from falling over. The contact brought her firm
breasts in direct contact with his chest, and he heard her gasp. He felt the
connection like a kick to the gut, and all his blood rushed south.
Hot damn
!
It had been too long since he held a woman in his arms, if his instant arousal
was anything to go by. Why did his libido have to remember its existence now,
when he held his nanny in his arms, his nanny for god's sake? He shifted,
grateful for the loose fitting pants helping to hide his hardening cock.

"Urm, you can let go of me now. I should
see to Mimi."

Her breathy whisper raised his blood pressure a
few more notches, and he automatically pulled her closer, taking a deep breath
of her enticing scent.

"Mimi is fine. Have you changed your
shampoo?"

"My shampoo?" She looked at him as
though he'd lost his marbles.

"
Si
, there is something different
about you." His voice sounded rough even to his own ears, and she looked,
damn, she looked frightened. Her expressive chocolate brown eyes widened in
alarm, and her curvy frame trembled in his arms. He forced himself to let her
go. What the hell was going on here?

"No, I'm sure I don't know what you
mean.
 
I really must go and see to Mimi,
excuse me."

She grabbed the bag along with Mimi's stroller,
and looking uncertain for a minute,she straightened her shoulders and walked
off in the direction of the kitchen.

Marco slammed the front door shut, his body
still tingling where it had touched hers.
If he didn't know better, but no,
that was impossible.
She must have just decided to take his orders on board
finally, and he was pumped full of adrenaline still following his workout. That
was the only explanation for the sudden primal interest in Mimi's nanny. She
was strictly off limits, and he needed a long cold shower.

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Elise stared at the contents of the wardrobe in
disbelief. Jemima had excelled herself. Every color of the rainbow was looking
back at her and some that she'd never even heard of. How on earth was she
supposed to wear any of this? This just wasn't her. She longingly thought of
her own clothes back in her cosy little flat. What she wouldn't give to be back
there now.

More clothes went flying out of the wardrobe to
join the colourful heap on the floor, and Mimi giggled. Elise smiled at the
sound; Mimi really had the most infectious laugh. Right now Mimi was climbing
on top of the rainbow heap of clothes, throwing them in the air, clapping her
hands in delight when they fell down. At least that junk was good for
something.

It was good to hear Mimi be so carefree. She
hadn't been last night. Elise had been woken up from a disturbingly erotic
dream, involving none other than Mimi's father, to the little girl's screams
echoing across the hall. She'd scrambled out of bed, completely disoriented,
and by the time she found herself across the hall towards Mimi's room the
crying had subsided. The sight that greeted Elise had done little to calm her
already overactive libido.

Marco Giovanni had sat on the floor in front of
his daughter's cot, holding her tenderly in his rather well defined arms,
whilst singing her a lullaby in Italian. Clad in only very low slung pajama
bottoms Elise had had a perfect view of washboard abs, a broad, slightly hairy
chest and impressive shoulders, whose muscles flexed slightly as he rocked his
daughter off to sleep. She couldn't get a clear view of his face, buried in
Mimi's hair, but the voice that sang to his child so tenderly was full of
painful emotion, that Elise recognised only too well. Feeling like she had
intruded on a very private moment, she'd padded back to her room.

Looking at Mimi now, she wondered what the story
was. Not that it was any of her business. She was not staying. In fact, looking
at the time, she had to ring the temp agency she worked for to let them know
that she wasn't available for the next four weeks. At least, that's what she
assumed her notice was. Damn Jemima for dropping her in it like this. And what
about Mimi?Yet another new nanny? No wonder the little thing had nightmares.

The conversation Elise had had with Agnes last
night over dinner had been interesting. Marco had gone out to eat with some
business associates, so she did not have to deal with her own, very confusing
reaction to Mimi's father. Never in her life had she had such an instant
reaction to a man before. That was Jemima's department. Maybe the garish
clothes were converging some of Jem's personality into her, heaven forbid.

Agnes, a stout middle aged woman with a broad
Scottish accent, had looked her up and down when she'd tracked Mimi down in the
kitchen.

“Goodness, lassie, what’s this? You're no gonnae
actually try an' blend in, are yae? Mind, it wid stop his lordship fae storming
aroond the place like a bear wae a sore heed.
She
's coming over tomorrow, or so I’ve been telt, so yae ken what
that means. Batten doonthe hatches and hide the silver!”

“Urm, she?”

“Elise, where’s yer heed at the night? She 'who
mustnae be named'… Are yae sure yer feeling all right, my lass? Yae look a wee
bit peaky. Yer no coming doon wae something, are yae?
 
Cause he willnae like that. It'll be Sunday
lunch at Mamma Giovanni's this week. He’ll want yae there tae deflect Stella.”

“Urm, deflect Stella?”

Agnes had looked at her then,
really
looked at her, and Elise had
squirmed in her seat under all that scrutiny of her grey-blue eyes.

“Well knowing Mamma G, she's bound tae hae some
bairn lined up fir him, like last time. Yae remember whit mood he was in after
that, and yae agreed tae take the heat aff. Yae ken… well, as the last man on
earth I'd ever fancy, I suppose ah could… conversation? Yae havnae changed yer
mind have yae, lassie?”

Oh no, that definitely sounded like some
hare-brained scheme of Jemima’s. Why had she not mentioned that vital piece of
information?

“Yes, of course I remember that conversation,
but surely he would not expect me to go through with that?”

“Well yer no his usual type, of course, but he
did ask me to give yae that and tae make sure tae use it afore Sunday!”

Elise looked at the credit card in her name, her
mouth falling open.

“And what am I supposed to do with this?”

Agnes had thrown her another one of those looks.

“I believe the exact words were… ‘And fer god’s
sake make sure she buys something appropriate that disnae hurt my eyes’. Got
tae be honest, he’s got a point. That shirt is, well, interesting.”

Elise had forced herself to laugh along with
her, trying her best to act more like Jemima. But even so, Agnes had given her
a few assessing looks, her lips pursed. In the end Elise had pleaded a
headache, and Agnes had sent her upstairs, saying she would sort Mimi out as
usual.

Jem, Jem, Jem, what did you do? And how did
you get away with it for so long?
Surely the nanny
was expected to put Mimi to bed. But then again, knowing Jemima, she could
charm the wings off a canary, so she must have wrapped Agnes around her little
finger.

Oh, she was never going to pull this off. At
last, a pair of leggings, pink zebra prints admittedly, but they would at least
cover her legs.
Seriously
, did Jem not have one single top in here that
wasn't either garish or so low cut it was indecent?

"It's not funny, Mimi. I can't take myself
seriously like this, so how is anyone else supposed to?"

Mimi just giggled some more, and when Elise
caught sight of herself in the mirror she burst into hysteric fits of laughter,
too. Her hair was a mess, very Jemima-like it had to be said, the zebra
patterned leggings clung to every curve, and the pink low cut top she was
wearing made her look like a giant candy floss.

BOOK: Too Cold To Love
11.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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