It didn’t stop Jasper from wanting to tackle him to the ground and force him to take the baby back. Damn! What game was Emily playing now? He swallowed down his panic and channelled the coldness he’d spent the last two years perfecting. He would find a way to deal with this and—
Imogen pushed past him to sweep the crying baby up into her arms and cuddle him. ‘Hey there, little dude, what’s all this fuss about? You feeling a bit discombobulated? I don’t blame you.’
The baby batted his face into her shoulder a couple of times, rubbed a fist across his eyes, while Imogen cooed nonsense, and then he finally looked up at her. She sent him a big smile before blowing a raspberry into his hand. To Jasper’s utter astonishment the baby not only stopped crying but smiled back, as if Imogen was the best thing he’d seen all day.
And Imogen Hartley visibly melted.
Right, she’d said she’d wanted a promotion. He wondered how she’d feel about the position of nanny?
IMOGEN BOUNCED THE baby on her hip and winced at Jasper’s white-faced shock. A baby turning up on his doorstep was obviously the last thing he’d expected. Cool eyes darkened and a bitter resignation twisted his lips, making her heart thump. She fought an urge to go over and put her arm around him, to try and comfort him the way she did the baby.
But why should he need comforting?
She moistened her lips. ‘This is your nephew?’
He nodded.
She waited, but he didn’t offer anything else. ‘What’s his name?’
‘George.’
It was too hard to look at Jasper, so she smiled at George instead. ‘Hello, gorgy Georgie!’
Jasper swore. Not particularly badly, but with a venom that made both her and the baby jump. Okay. So he really hadn’t expected the arrival of this baby. And he was really unhappy about it.
But little George stared at his uncle with wide fear-filled eyes and looked as if he was about to start crying again. So she bounced him gently and started singing, ‘I’m a little teapot.’
The baby turned to her again and his face broke out into a big smile. He waved his hands and made lots of inarticulate noises. What an adorable bundle of chubby-cheeked cuteness!
‘Hey, you going to be a singer, little guy?’ She glanced at his uncle. ‘How old is he?’
‘Nine months.’ Jasper stared at her oddly. ‘You’re very good with him.’
‘Back in the real world I’m Auntie Immy to four of the cutest babies on the planet.’
‘I thought you were an only child?’
Ah, so Aunt Katherine had told him a little about her, then. What other confidences had she shared? ‘An honorary aunt.’ She stuck her nose in the air. ‘Which everyone knows is the best kind.’
He stared at her for a moment before one side of his mouth hooked up. Her heart stilled mid-beat, before pounding again with ferocious abandon. That half smile transformed him completely—the stern mouth curved with a sensual lilt that chased away some of the shadows in his eyes. It made her think of summer and fun and…ice cream. She fought to catch her breath. From the first moment she’d clapped eyes on Jasper, everything about him had screamed undeniable maleness. But now he was also unmistakably gorgeous.
He sobered, the frown returning to his face, and she dragged her gaze away. Dear God, please don’t let him have misconstrued her scrutiny.
She scuffed a toe against the ground and tried to hide a grimace. What was there to misconstrue? She’d been ogling him, which was seriously poor form. But it didn’t mean she had designs on him or anything, and—
‘Are you feeling all right, Ms Hartley?’
She realised she’d scrunched her face up, and immediately set about un-scrunching it. ‘Thought I was going to sneeze.’
He raised an eyebrow.
‘It didn’t seem like a good idea with an armful of baby,’ she improvised. She wanted—no, needed—him to stop looking at her in that way. She gestured to the series of bags that George’s minder had dropped to the doorstep. ‘I guess we should get these out of the sun.’ Without another word, she grabbed the baby capsule at her feet and strode through into Jasper’s impeccable living room.
She grinned at the baby. ‘Oh, you’re going to mess this up perfectly, master George.’
‘How is he going to mess it up?’ Jasper said, coming in behind her. ‘Is he old enough to walk?’
‘Unlikely, though he might be crawling. Hey, little dude, are you speeding around yet?’ She sent Jasper a grin. ‘I’ll show you what I mean.’ She went to hand him George, but he took a physical step away, a look of horror speeding across his face.
Whoa.
She gulped down the words that pressed against the back of her throat. There was something going on here that she didn’t understand, and the last thing little George needed was for her to make it worse. So she instead pointed to the bags. ‘In one of those there are bound to be some toys and a baby blanket.’
Without another word, he started rummaging and eventually found what she’d asked for. Handing her the blanket, he held a toy out in each hand—a plastic set of keys on a key ring in primary colours, and a plush bunny rabbit with long ears. With a squeal, George reached for the keys.
Very carefully, Jasper handed them over.
Imogen spread the blanket on the living room’s thick designer rug and then upended the rest of the contents of the bag across it.
‘What the—?’
Setting a boomerang pillow in the middle of it all, she very gently settled George into its curve before pulling the toys closer. He threw the keys, waved his arms about and started making broom-broom noises.
She reached for a toy car. ‘Is this what you’re after, little guy?’
He grabbed it, immediately shoving one corner of it in his mouth.
Imogen rose and gestured to the baby, the rug, and the assortment of toys. ‘Hey, presto, your living room isn’t quite so immaculate.’
He eyed her carefully. ‘You sound as if you approve of the change.’
‘It’s very hard to disapprove of babies, Uncle Jasp—Mr Coleman,’ she amended in a rush, heat flushing through her cheeks.
What on earth…? Just because there was a baby in the house didn’t mean she could dispense with normal boss-employee formality.
He let her near slip pass, just continued to stare at her. Um…?
Oh! She was supposed to be working. He was probably wondering what on earth she was still doing here lingering in his living room as if she owned it. Swallowing, she backed up a step. ‘I guess I better get back to work and—’
‘No!’
She halted, mentally tutoring herself on the appropriate levels of deference due to an employer. ‘Sir?’
‘I have a proposition to put to you, Ms Hartley.’
She glanced at baby George, who was happily banging a plastic hammer against his foot, and she started to laugh. ‘I just bet you do.’
Damn! Couldn’t she