Out of Hours...Enticing the Nanny: The Nanny and the CEO / Nanny to the Billionaire's Son / Not Just the Nanny. Rebecca Winters. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Rebecca Winters
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472082954
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agony over her split with Jeremy, but six months had gone by and she was still alive and functioning better these days. Though it would take Mr. Wainwright longer to heal, she was living proof that you didn’t die of a broken heart. But he wouldn’t want to hear those words right now so she wouldn’t say them.

      “Shall we go up?”

      His deep voice broke into her reverie. She turned her head, surprised he’d already gotten out of the limo. Reese took a quick second breath because it appeared he wasn’t about to send her away yet. Feeling the baby cling to her had made the whole situation real for the first time. She discovered she wanted this job very much.

      “Jamie seems to have quieted down,” she commented.

      “Thanks to you.” The comment warmed her before he reached for his son. Though he was tiny compared to his father, they looked so right together in their matching colored suits. She surmised Mr. Wainwright was in his early to mid-thirties although age was hard to tell and could add years when one was grieving.

      Realizing she would become morose if she kept thinking about it, she stepped out of the limo with her purse, determined to put on a bright face for Jamie. That was her job after all. She followed his father inside a prewar brick-and-limestone building. Evidently there’d been massive renovations because the interior exuded luxury. They entered the elevator and rode to the fourteenth floor.

      When the doors opened, she glimpsed a penthouse the public only got to see from inside the pages of Architecture Digest. The apartment itself was a piece of modern sculpture with its tall curving walls and a sweeping loft where she glimpsed a library of books and statuary. At every turn she was surprised by a bronze étagère of Mesoamerican artifacts here or a cubist painting there.

      Impressions of Old World antiques, objets d’art and moiré silk period pieces flew at her like colors through a prism. There was a grand piano and a set of gorgeous Japanese screens in one section. Everywhere she looked, her gaze fastened on some treasure. A grouping of eighteenth-century furniture faced the fireplace. She wouldn’t know where to begin describing the layout or furnishings of this Park Avenue address.

      Months ago she’d seen an article with pictures in the Times of a condo something like this one that had just sold for thirty million dollars. She supposed his wealth could have come through his business endeavors.

      But his breeding gave her the sense that he’d been born into the kind of family whose wealth had been one of the mainstays of Wall Street for generations. Mrs. Tribe hadn’t let on. If Reese had been in her place, she wouldn’t have, either.

      “Since you’re from Nebraska and the wide-open spaces, you’ll probably find the area out here more to your liking.”

      She followed him across the living room’s velvety Oriental rugs to the span of rounded arched windows reminiscent of the Italian masters. He opened some sliding doors. When she stepped out on the terrace, she felt as if she’d entered a park complete with trees, hedges, a pool,and tubs of flowering plants placed around with an artistic flare.

      As she walked to the edge, she had an unimpeded view of Park Avenue down to the Helmsley building. The whole thing was incredible. “I would imagine after a hard day at the office, this is your favorite room, too.” She saw a telescope set up at one end beyond the patio furniture. When Jamie was old enough, he’d be enthralled by everything he could see through it from this angle.

      “It can be pleasant if it’s not too hot. I can’t say I’ve spent that much time out here lately, but I do use the gym every morning. It’s on the upper deck of my terrace. You’ll see the stairs. You’re welcome to work out if you want.”

      “Thank you.”

      She sensed he was in a dark mood. Lines bracketed his mouth. “Let’s go back inside. I’ll let you pick the bedroom you’d like, but perhaps you’d like to freshen up first. The guest bathroom is through that door.”

      “Thank you. I’m pretty sure Jamie’s diaper needs to be changed. Could we go to the nursery first?”

      He shot her an intense glance. “For now there’s only a crib in my bedroom that was delivered yesterday. I haven’t decided where he should sleep yet.”

      So Jamie had been at his grandparents’ from the start. Why? “I see. Well, let me wash my hands first.” She slipped inside the bathroom that looked more like an arboretum with plants and flowers. After washing and drying her hands, Reese joined him just inside the sliding doors and trailed her employer through the fabulous apartment to the master bedroom with a decidedly all-male look.

      It had been decorated along straight lines and contemporary furniture with accents of greens and blues. Some graphics on the walls. No frills, no sense of femininity. Above all, no family pictures. Too painful a reminder? Maybe he kept them in the living room and she hadn’t noticed.

      The walnut crib stood at the end of the king-size bed. It had a crib sheet but no padding. The diaper bag had been put in the room along with her suitcase. Without hesitation she reached inside the bag for a diaper. Along with a dozen of them it contained a twelve-hour supply of small, individual bottles of formula, another stretchy outfit, a shirt and a receiving blanket. She pulled it out and spread it over the top of the bed.

      “If you’ll lay him on this, we’ll change him.”

      He walked over and put Jamie down. “Okay, sport. This is going to be a new experience for all of us.”

      Mr. Wainwright wouldn’t be the first man who’d never changed a diaper. “The baby’s so happy with you, why don’t you undo his outfit. We’ll work on this together.”

      Reese smiled to herself to see the good-looking, well-dressed executive bending over his son to perform something he’d never done before. He seemed more human suddenly and even more attractive.

      It took him a minute to undo all the snaps and free his legs. Reese undid the tabs on the diaper. “Lift his legs.” When he did, she drew the old one away and slid in the new one. “Okay. Lower him and put up the front, then fasten it with these side tabs.”

      The baby’s body was in perpetual motion. You could hear him breathing fast with animation. “He likes all this attention, don’t you.” She couldn’t resist kissing his tummy after his father had finished. In truth her physical awareness of Mr. Wainwright had caught her off guard.

      “Great job, Daddy. You did it so fast, he didn’t have a chance to get you wet.” His quiet chuckle pleased and surprised her. She’d like to hear that sound more often, then chastised herself for having any thoughts of a personal nature about him.

      “While you finish dressing him, I’ll get rid of this.” She took the soiled diaper and headed for a door she could see across the room, thinking it was the bathroom, but it led to an office where he could work at home. “Oops. Wrong room.”

      “The bathroom’s behind me. I didn’t realize it was your destination.” By now he was holding Jamie against his shoulder again. They really did look gorgeous together.

      Reese averted her eyes and moved past him before opening the door to the elegant bathroom. She put the diaper on the marble counter, madly compiling a mental list of all the things they would need to make his apartment baby friendly.

      After washing her hands, she came out again and said, “Do you know my whole family could fit in there comfortably?” His lips twitched. When they did that, he didn’t look as stressed and was too attractive by far. “How many bedrooms are there besides this one?”

      “There’s one across the hall from my room, and one at the other end of the apartment.”

      “I’ve been thinking…Would it be possible to move your office to that other bedroom, or to somewhere else in the apartment entirely?”

      He cocked his dark head. “Anything’s possible.”

      “It’s just that your office is the perfect size for a nursery because it has a door leading into your room as well as the