“Welcome to your new job, Ms. Lewis...” About the Author Books by Anne McAllister Title Page CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN Copyright
“Welcome to your new job, Ms. Lewis...”
Nikos continued, “Apparently my father has hired you to baby-sit me!”
He was obviously a madman. But he was the most stunningly handsome madman Mari had ever seen. A lesser woman—many lesser women—would have fallen panting at his feet.
Mari Lewis was made of sterner stuff. She had a job to fulfill, a reputation to uphold.
“Look, Mr. Costanides, I don’t know why you’re doing this, but—”
“You’d do better wondering why my father is doing it.... He hired you.”
“To take care of his little boy.”
“To take care of Nikos,” her fully-grown, very masculine nemesis agreed. He poked his chest. “Me.”
ANNE McALLISTER was born in California. She spent long lazy summers daydreaming on local beaches and studying surfers, swimmers and volleyball players in an effort to find the perfect hero. She finally did, not on the beach, but in a university library where she was working. She, her husband and their four children have since moved to the Midwest. She taught, copyedited, capped deodorant bottles and ghostwrote sermons before turning to her first love: writing romance fiction.
RITA Award-winning author Anne McAllister
writes fast, funny and emotional romances. You’ll be hooked till the very last page!
Books by Anne McAllister
HARLEQUIN PRESENTS® 1620—CALL UP THE WIND 1680—CATCH ME IF YOU CAN 1769—THE ALEXAKIS BRIDE 1854—A BABY FOR CHRISTMAS 1890—FINN’S TWINS! 1932—FLETCHER’S BABY!
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The Playboy and the Nanny
Anne McAllister
CHAPTER ONE
NIKOS COSTANIDES needed a woman.
Not just any woman, either. He needed a babe. Luxuriously blonde. Definitely sultry. Naturally brash. And the blowsier the better.
It wouldn’t hurt if she wore a skintight leopard-spotted dress, either, he thought with a ghost of a smile. But he wasn’t going to hold out for that, he decided as he tucked the telephone under his chin and punched in the number. A close approximation would do just fine.
“Debbie’s Dollies Escort Service,” a voice purred moments later on the other end of the line.
Nikos grinned. If the woman who came was as promising as the voice on the phone, he’d be out of here by sundown. “I’d like the services of one of your escorts this afternoon.”
“Certainly, sir,” the voice purred. “Whatever your heart desires.”
What his heart desired was to be five thousand miles away from his father’s Long Island mansion, but he knew that wasn’t what the woman on the phone had in mind. Still, she would be helping him get there, so he gave the receptionist an idea of the sort of escort he wanted.
“A flagrant sort of woman?” she said doubtfully when he’d finished.
“In your face,” Nikos agreed cheerfully. “Over the top. Definitely not subtle. You know what I mean?”
“Er, well,” the receptionist said, though she still sounded a little doubtful. Then her business sense won out. “I’m sure we have just the woman. I’ll send her right out.”
Nikos gave the receptionist the address. “I’m in the caretaker’s cottage behind the main house. There’s a party going on by the pool, but it’s perfectly all right if she comes straight up the main drive and walks right past them.”
Nikos looked out at the group of party-goers on the patio behind the main house—particularly at his stubborn, strait-laced father, who was carrying a footstool for Julietta, his very pregnant young wife—and flexed his shoulders in anticipation. The weight of his confinement eased slightly. It wouldn’t be long now and the shackles would be completely gone.
“Yes, sir. I’ll tell her. And I’m sure she’ll do just what you want her to, Mr. Costanides,” the receptionist assured him.
“Yes,” Nikos agreed with a purr of satisfaction in his own voice. “I’m sure she will.”
It was actually closer to forty-five minutes before he heard the knock on the cottage door. It was a short rap. Brisk and no-nonsense. Not especially sultry. But then it was probably hard to sound sultry in a knock.
No matter. Maybe the gardener had stopped her when she came up the drive, suspecting she was lost. She would hardly look like one of the guests coming to his stepmother’s baby shower! Nikos grinned again and finished stuffing the last of his gear into a duffel bag, the better to be ready when his father threw him out.
If he’d been able to drive, he’d have been gone long before this. But a car accident following a shouting match with his father a month ago had left him with a cast on his leg that limited his mobility. It had given his father the chance he wanted—to nail Nikos down until he could badger him into working for Costanides International.
Not on your life, Nikos thought now, as he thought every time the subject came up. There would be six feet of snow in hell first.
He hauled himself out of his chair to go answer the door, thinking that if, in fact, old Thomas the gardener had stopped the floozie, it would be that much better. He would be one more person shocked by Nikos’s disrespectful behavior, one more voice telling Stavros that his elder son was irredeemable, one more reason to throw the blackguard out.
To be honest, though, Nikos doubted