The Nanny's Plan. Donna Clayton
fall and hurt yourselves.”
She was in a quandary. She was trying hard not to smile, but she also felt awkwardness pressing in on them.
Then he murmured, “I’m going to have to speak to my sister about her television viewing habits.”
Amy could stand it no more. Laughter gurgled forth. Her hand flew to cover her lips. But air rushed between her fingers, her cheeks stretched in a wide grin, her shoulders shuddered up and down.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted, but it was hopeless. “It’s just…funny.”
A corner of Pierce’s mouth quirked once, twice, and soon he was chuckling right along with her.
“It is pretty funny,” he agreed.
“What’s funny?” Jeremiah lugged the pail over, and it was so full that water sloshed over the rim.
Ignoring his nephew’s question, Pierce asked one of his own. “So you’ve decided to sprout those seeds hydroponically, huh?”
Benjamin’s whole face screwed up. “Hydro what?”
“In water,” he explained.
“But we’ve already planted ’em in dirt,” Jeremiah pointed out, confusion knitting his forehead.
“It was a joke,” Pierce told him. “Here, let me help you.”
He took the watering can and sprinkled the seeds.
Amy noticed how the muscles in his forearm firmed into long cords under his skin as he maneuvered the can. Like metal attracted by a magnetic current, she was helpless against the urge to move closer.
He smelled good. She didn’t want to notice the luscious heated scent of him, but she was helpless against that, as well.
“Are those seeds part of that new contract work you’ve started?” she asked, craning her neck to see around his shoulder.
“No, those are hybrids. I have several flats in different stages of growth, so I need to vigilantly protect them from any foreign pollen.”
After only a second, she gasped. “But I left the greenhouse door open.”
“It’s okay,” he assured her. “The seedlings are across the way in the lab, where I can monitor and control everything. Soil and air temperature, humidity, nutrient intake.”
Curiosity caught her in its grasp. “I’ve heard of hybrid plants. I’ve probably even seen them. But I’ve never been sure exactly what that term means.”
“Hybrid means heterogeneous in—” He stopped suddenly, twisting to face her as he seemed to rethink his explanation. “It means a plant or animal that’s the offspring of unlike parents.
“Hybrid plants are cultivated for different reasons,” he continued, his gaze becoming intense. “Sometimes people want flowers with variegated leaves or petals. Or bigger blossoms. Or a hardier root system.”
“And what are you going for?” she asked. “In your experiments, I mean.”
“I’m cultivating flowers for new scents. A perfumery in France has agreed to finance the experiments, and if I can cultivate something usable, they’ll get a portion of the seeds. I’ll get the right to patent the scent and publish the work in scientific journals.”
“So you’re going to grow flowers that smell different from any other flowers in the whole wide world?” Benjamin looked quite impressed.
“I’m trying. In fact, I’ve grown a small sample batch for their approval. They have those in their labs. And now I’m working on cultivating more seeds.”
“Cool.”
“Can we see your lab, Uncle Pierce?” Jeremiah asked.
“Not today, boys.”
They groaned and complained.
Amy wondered just how amazingly intelligent a person would have to be to take two different species of flower and create something brand-new, something that no one had ever seen—or smelled—before. There had been a passion sparkling in his gorgeous green eyes as he’d talked about his work, and she’d found that alluring.
“Some other time,” he told the boys. “I’ve got data books scattered about in there. I’ll have to clean up before you come look around. But I promise you can check everything out really soon, okay?”
Although they didn’t like it, they finally acquiesced. And as children usually do, they then quickly changed the subject.
“I’m hungry,” Jeremiah pronounced.
“Yeah.” Benjamin piped up, “I’m ready for some pancakes.”
“Both of you need to go get washed up before you do anything else,” their uncle told them.
“Let’s go!” They took flight down the row of plants.
“Slow down,” Pierce called after them. Then he directed his gaze at Amy. “What is it?” he asked her.
“N-nothing.” She was embarrassed that he’d caught her so deep in thought—about him. “I should make the boys their breakfast. I…I’m terribly sorry they barged in on you. I took a quick call from my dad.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yes, yes.” Her head bobbed. “He just wanted to say hi. I told him I’d call him later. I was only on the phone for a minute or two, but—” she grimaced “—Benjamin and Jeremiah were out of the house like a flash. I’ll try not to let it happen again.” She turned to leave.
“Wait.” His fingers slid over her forearm. “You really looked contemplative a second ago. You obviously had something on your mind. And I’d like to know what it was.”
What would it hurt to tell him? Anyone could have had the same reaction to all that he’d revealed.
“I was just overwhelmed by the very idea of it,” she said. “The thought of creating something original. Something that, well—” she decided Benjamin’s words had been perfect “—no one else in the whole world has ever seen.”
“It’s nothing, really.”
His tone was low. Soothing as a cool hand against a warm brow. Her skin tingled as if he were actually stroking her face with his fingertips.
“Just a little plant sex.”
Pierce’s green eyes glittered mischievously…and Amy burst out laughing.
Later that night Amy was unable to sleep, so she crept down the darkened hallway and into the bathroom. The origin of this edginess jittering through her was unknown, but there was nothing that a good long soak couldn’t cure.
She’d already taken her hair down and had given it a good brush when she’d gotten ready for bed. Twisting the length of it, she pinned it up so it wouldn’t get wet. Then she turned on the taps and adjusted the water temperature.
Untying the sash of her robe, she shrugged it off and let it fall in a heap to the floor. She tugged her nightgown over her head, pulled off her panties and then stepped into the bathtub.
She’d had an exhausting day. Maybe her problem was that she was simply overtired.
When she’d suggested to the boys that they make cupcakes, Benjamin and Jeremiah had eagerly gathered the eggs, the flour, the sugar and the cooking utensils. By the time they had finished the job, though, the kitchen had been a mess. She’d packed up some sandwiches, fruit, juice and a few cupcakes, and they had gone outside in the backyard for a picnic. Then they had spent the entire afternoon running among the trees and shrubs.
But time and again, Amy had found her gaze drifting to the greenhouse. Pierce had intruded on her thoughts every few moments, and her mind had been bombarded by all sorts of questions.