Fools Rush In. Gwynne Forster
me, and as far as I know, he’s never met me. Did you answer the ad for nanny or the one for wife?”
I need my wits with this woman, Justine cautioned herself. “Nanny. Is he looking for a wife?”
Banks blew a few smoke rings. “Yeah. For a strictly business deal. Now who’s crazy? Him or me?”
“There you are,” Duncan’s voice boomed. “Wayne, I want you to meet my sister, Leah—the one who’s blowing smoke. And this is Justine Taylor.” Banks quickly rubbed the cigarette against the sole of her left shoe and put it out.
“I’m glad to meet you, Wayne,” Justine said, showing as little interest as possible in the man who was Duncan’s boss and the object of Banks’s affection.
Wayne grinned and winked at Duncan. “Not worth a backward glance, eh?” He took her extended hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Justine.”
She looked from Wayne to Banks, hoping to see a spark of desire in his face and praying that Banks would say the right words.
“Hello, Wayne. It’s a relief to see somebody from home down here among these jaded Washingtonians.”
Wayne appeared suitably impressed, and his low drawl seemed to captivate Banks, who gazed unsteadily at him. “Well, hello. Duncan didn’t tell me he had a sister. Where’ve you been?”
“Mostly in Frederick. I told Melissa I wanted to meet you, but the three of us are never in the same place.”
“Melissa? My sister-in-law? Wait ’til I see her. All she had to do was tell me she had a nice brown, long-stemmed beauty she wanted me to meet. Duncan, what’s the matter with these women?”
“Search me. Justine, you want to come with me and meet some of my buddies?”
At least he had the grace to leave them alone and give Banks a chance. Wayne seemed interested enough, but maybe his joviality was nothing more than courtesy. Duncan’s fingers at her elbow were meant to reassure her, and she didn’t attach any significance to the special attention. If only he wouldn’t watch her like an eagle about to dive for trout while he introduced her to his friends. She’d been properly brought up by aunts with strict codes of behavior, and she knew how to act with people. What did he expect? She opened her mouth to tell him he needn’t fear embarrassment, when it dawned on her that his interest was in another direction: she wasn’t behaving as a servant would, but as Dr. Justine Taylor Montgomery. Too late to repair that damage; she’d have to watch it.
“You don’t drink?” he asked after she declined all that he offered.
“I’ll drink wine with my dinner, but Tonya could wake up any minute, and I don’t want to be tipsy if she needs me.”
He searched her face as though gauging some inscrutable object or investigating the unknown. “What do you usually drink?”
“A glass of white wine.”
“Mr. B,” Mattie yelled. “It’s on.”
He continued to gaze into her eyes. “Dinner’s ready. Will you sit at my right?”
“But Duncan, that’s…I work for you. Surely, you don’t want to give the impression that I’m more than—”
His fingers tightened on her arm. “As long as I’m in my house, I can give any impression I like—provided I don’t offend you. I wouldn’t want to do that. Come with me.”
None of his friends appeared to find it unseemly that Duncan escorted his daughter’s nanny to dinner and gave her a place of honor at the table. She turned to find Duncan’s gaze on her.
Unsure as to how she should deal with his attentiveness, she tried to divert his attention by focusing the conversation on Banks and Wayne. “They seem to have hit it off. If you knew she wanted to meet him, why didn’t you arrange it before now?”
He placed his fork on his plate and leaned back in his chair. “Justine, my sister is as mercurial as a person gets. If Wayne makes one false move with her, she’ll tell him to drop dead. He’s my boss, and he’s also like a brother to me, and I’d as soon not have to tie up with him because of Leah.”
“But she’s enchanted with him and has been for a while.”
“Enchanted or not; if he doesn’t toe the line, she’ll give him the boot, and he won’t get a second chance, sure as my name is Duncan Banks.”
She didn’t like the sound of it. “Does that run in the family?”
“Hardly. I don’t expect perfection from people.”
She let herself breathe more deeply. “What do you expect?”
He leaned toward her and whispered, “Honesty. Weakness, I can understand, but not dishonesty. And whatever you give me, give it with your whole soul, every bit of yourself. I refuse to be anybody else’s guilt or, for that matter, their charitable duty.”
His stricken look told her he’d said more than he had intended, that he hadn’t wanted to reveal so much of himself. She shuddered to think that, of their own volition, her fingers had found his beneath the table and grasped them as though in a gesture of comfort. When she tried to remove her hand, he tightened his grip.
“Look at me, Justine.”
She cast her glance downward and closed her eyes, refusing him, but she was about to learn that he would always stand his ground.
“Justine, if you don’t look at me, I’ll make you do it right here in front of everybody. If you don’t want my mouth on yours right here, open your eyes.”
She had to open them. Not merely because of his threat, but because she needed to see his face. “Don’t complicate this, Duncan. Please leave things as they are. I want to work here, but I can’t if you start something with me. I—”
“Why do you want to work here? And another thing, I can’t start anything with you unless I have your eager cooperation. You’re as safe with me as you would be in the Vatican. And you know it.”
His question, potent with danger, flowed out of him so readily that she knew it hadn’t just occurred to him, that it nagged at him waiting for a chance to be asked. She dodged it and commented on his assurance of her safety.
“Thank you, Duncan, but I have never doubted that you are honorable. It blazes across your countenance like a big red sun just before it sinks beyond the horizon.”
She glanced first at their entwined fingers and then toward the other end of the table where Banks sat with Wayne Roundtree in rapt attention beside her. “Duncan, please give me back my hand.”
His answer was a wide grin, roguish but determined, and she shifted her gaze to find Duncan’s sister watching them intently. She couldn’t help wondering why Banks wouldn’t use the opportunity to gain Wayne’s attention. Instead, the woman’s eyes seemed to pierce her, to scrutinize her insides, and she’d have thought it an act of rudeness if Banks hadn’t suddenly smiled and then turned to Wayne.
When they finished the five course meal and moved to the living room, Justine expected Duncan to circulate among his friends, but he stayed close to her.
His long-lashed reddish-brown eyes seemed to measure her features, as he gazed down at her. “Enjoy the meal?”
She nodded and forced a half-smile. All right, he was honorable, but her nerves still rioted at the thought that he slept across the hall from her and that their bedroom doors didn’t have locks. “Yes. It was wonderful. I had no idea that Mattie could turn out a gourmet meal. I had expected some first class soul food.”
Looking at him, relaxed against the marble fireplace, she didn’t think she’d ever seen a man so comfortable with himself. “Oh, she can cook that, too,” he said, “as well as French or Italian, and always top fare. There’s more to Mattie than those ridiculous wigs. Aperitif?”
“N…No