Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me: Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me. Teresa Southwick

Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me: Marrying the Virgin Nanny / The Nanny and Me - Teresa  Southwick


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understand that there’s no way to measure a person’s ability to do a good job, but it would reassure me to see something in writing that says you’re qualified to care for children. But I’d like to hire you right now, references pending.”

      When Brady started to whimper harder, she really felt as if this was a father-son tag team. They were piling it on. His crying went from half-hearted to off the chart in a matter of seconds and Jason handed him back to her.

      “Hey, sweetie,” she soothed, and tried stroking his palm again. After several heaving sobs he started to quiet.

      “I think I’ve just seen all the references necessary,” Jason said. “He wouldn’t stop crying for me and I offered him a thousand dollars. The interview is over, you’re hired.”

      Maggie wasn’t so sure this was a good idea, but she simply couldn’t walk out on this child. “Okay.”

      “Brady is asleep.”

      Jason looked up and saw Maggie in the doorway to his study. He’d been completely focused on the information in the envelope that Ginger Davis had messengered over. Reading about his new nanny was priority number one and he’d forgotten about asking her to join him when the baby was settled.

      Sitting behind his flat oak desk in his home office, he held out a hand. “Have a seat.”

      She picked the left wingchair across from him, then folded her hands in her lap as she met his gaze.

      “Is Brady all right?”

      “He’s an angel,” she said, smiling for the first time. “He’s bathed, fed and sleeping like a baby.”

      “Good.” He nodded toward the stack of papers. “Ginger is very efficient.”

      “I’ve always found her to be a woman of her word.”

      Good to know because The Nanny Network charged a hefty amount of money for the service provided. Everything in life came with a price tag, but you didn’t always know if it would be worth what you paid.

      In the case of his son, he wasn’t disappointed. He’d never known a love like he’d felt when he saw Brady for the first time. And the feeling had multiplied tenfold since he’d brought him home from the hospital. When Catherine had broken the news about the unplanned pregnancy, her next comment was that it would be history soon. Jason couldn’t accept that his child would be removed as if it were nothing more than an inconvenience, an annoyance, a stain on the carpet.

      After intense negotiation and a large settlement, he had a son whose mother received a bonus for signing off all rights to him. He’d have paid her far more than she’d happily taken, but that had been enough to finance plastic surgery or any other physical enhancement to further her acting ambitions. What he hadn’t counted on was how complicated finding competent child care would be.

      “So you finally have my references?” Maggie asked.

      Her voice pulled him back from the memories, and he glanced at her before again scanning the résumé that included very thorough background information. “You’re an orphan?”

      “That would assume my parents are dead. In fact, I don’t know where they are. I never knew them at all. As an infant I was left on the steps of the Good Shepherd Home for Children where I was found by Sister Margaret and Sister Mary.”

      Her tone was so moderate and matter of fact it was several moments before the pieces formed a complete picture. She’d been no bigger than Brady when she was discarded, an annoyance, an inconvenience. “So Margaret Mary Shepherd—”

      She nodded. “I was named after two nuns and a home for abandoned children.”

      It wasn’t often that people surprised him, but he was surprised now. “Forgive me, I don’t know what to say.”

      “That implies you pity me.”

      “No, I—”

      “It’s all right. I consider myself lucky. Everyone was good to me. No one turned me away when I asked for more gruel.” She smiled at her reference to the famous scene in the dark Dickens book. “I had a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in and people who cared about me. I’m healthy and privileged to do a job I love. I didn’t end up in a Dumpster or as a sensational, sad headline in the newspaper. It could so easily have been a story with a tragic ending, but someone cared enough to give me to the sisters.”

      Catherine hadn’t cared, but for a price she’d given him Brady.

      Maggie Shepherd met his gaze and her own was unapologetic, clear-eyed and proud. There was no sign that he intimidated her and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Considering his recent nanny problems he’d have preferred a healthy dose of fear.

      At first sight he’d thought her plain, although her wide dark-blue eyes that sort of tilted up at the corners were very unusual. Her brown hair was pulled back in a long ponytail. If worn long, it would spill over the shoulders of her turtleneck sweater and down her back. For some reason, he wanted very much to see it loose, maybe so that she’d look older, less like a fourteen-year-old babysitter.

      When she’d held his son and smiled, the mouth he’d thought a bit too wide was suddenly intriguing. The tender expression in her eyes when she looked at the baby made her beautiful. Not home-run-with-the-score-tied-in-the-ninthinning exciting, or touchdown-to-take-the-lead-with-thirty-seconds-left-in-the-fourth-quarter stunning. But the individual features blended on a canvas of pale, flawless skin mixed with an air of sweetness and formed a pretty picture.

      He folded his hands and settled them on the desk as he leaned forward. “Do you wonder about your parents?”

      Her serene look didn’t slip. “It’s a waste of energy.”

      “But aren’t you curious about anything?” He couldn’t help wondering if Brady would have questions about where his mother was and why she’d disappeared from his life. The truth wasn’t pretty, and Jason wasn’t prepared to tell it. But at least he knew what the truth was. Maggie had no details about her parents and he wondered if that bothered her. “Do you ever think about where they are? What they’re like? Why you are the way you are?”

      She stared at him for a moment, then stood, serenity suddenly shattered. “If this is your way of saying you think I’m unsuitable for the nanny position…”

      He stood, too, and noticed for the first time how small she was. Fragile, almost. He towered over her and now it made him feel like a bully until he remembered her fierce determination to comfort a distressed baby. She’d been like a force of nature.

      “I didn’t mean to pry,” he said. “But I feel within my rights as a father to know the woman in whose care I’m leaving my son.”

      “If you don’t trust me, I’d appreciate it if you’d simply say so.”

      “There’s nothing in your background, personal or professional, that made me change my mind about hiring you.”

      “Fine. Then, if it’s all right with you, I’ll go settle in while Brady is sleeping.”

      “Will you stay for another moment? I have just a few more questions.”

      She hesitated, then sat down again. “All right.”

      “When did you first become aware that you’re a ‘baby whisperer’?” he asked, rounding the desk to sit on the corner closest to her. “I’m just curious.”

      “I’ve always been around children. Everyone at the home was expected to help out, but it never felt like a chore to me. Then my first job while I worked my way through college was with a wealthy family who had four children, ranging in age from an infant to early twenties. He was in college.” Her lips pressed together for a moment before she added, “I found I liked babies.”

      But she hadn’t liked something. Jason wondered about that and also about what she did after college graduation. Her background information


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