The Nanny and the Millionaire: Promoted: Nanny to Wife / The Italian Tycoon and the Nanny / The Millionaire's Nanny Arrangement

Olly sank into a chair, her face bent across the table. ‘And Lucy was?’

‘My cousin. Lucy is two years older than I am.’

‘I would have expected you to be good friends?’

‘We weren’t friends from the start,’ Marissa said. ‘I expect a lot of it was my fault. They were very painful times. I spent a lot of time battling tears.’

‘Nothing unusual about that, love,’ Olly said softly.

Marissa lowered her head. ‘I didn’t storm around the place like Georgy may do in an effort to contain her pain. I didn’t shout or swear or pick fights with Lucy. I didn’t tell anyone I hated them. I might as well have. My aunt told me frequently I was a selfish, ungrateful girl.’

‘She sounds like a perfect horror!’ Olly said indignantly.

Marissa reacted by laughing. ‘She was, you know,’ she said, marvelling someone had finally put it into words. ‘Because of her mother Lucy had difficulties with me. I think now, we both suffered. But enough of that! I don’t usually talk about myself.’

‘You’ve got to let yourself go now and again, love,’ Olly advised, getting to her feet again. ‘You can’t always bottle it up.’

‘I’ve come to believe in the power of silence, Olly,’ Marissa said.

As well she might!

Holt had been standing a while outside the doorway listening unashamedly to the conversation. He fully understood Olly’s efforts to get the new governess to talk. The strange part was, so great was Marissa’s appeal, not only his grandmother and Olly were starting to worry about her, so was he! It was even difficult to think about her as an employee. She was more like a young family member who had sought refuge on Wungalla. He’d have to stop her calling him Mr McMaster, correct though it might be. He didn’t like the sound of it on her lips.

‘Good evening!’ he greeted them satirically, walking back into the room.

‘And good evening to you, too, sor,‘ Olly responded with a thick Irish brogue. ‘How’s Mrs McMaster?’

‘She’s settled. I expect you heard the ruckus?’

Olly’s eyes shifted to Marissa. ‘I’d have been deaf not to,’ she said. ‘Such a shame when Mrs McMaster had been enjoying herself.’

‘There’ll be other nights, Olly.’ Holt glanced down at Marissa’s silky head, a mass of waves and curls. ‘You okay?’

‘I’m fine, thank you,’ she answered, very politely. She didn’t twist her head to look up at him.

‘In that case you’ll be ready for the next course.’ He resumed his seat, opposite her, tossing off the last of the fine red in his wineglass. ‘I would have thought good manners required not starting a fight at the dinner table, but how times do change! What’s for dessert, Olly?’ he asked.

‘Those little ricotta fritters you like with a citrus sauce,’ she answered with satisfaction.

He waved a hand. ‘Perfect! Bring them on. My nerves need soothing.’

‘Will do!’ Olly laughed and walked away.

Marissa, feeling at her most vulnerable, began to fold her napkin, uncertain what to do next.

‘You’re not going anywhere surely?’ His brilliant black eyes pinned her in place. ‘I thought I told you to stay.’

‘Well, I thought probably my being here had something to do with your frayed nerves?’ she found herself saying.

He stared at her for some time. ‘You know you’re right! But let me worry about that. Have dessert, maybe a coffee, afterwards we can take a turn in the garden.’

Her heart fluttered like a bird, right up into her throat. ‘Isn’t that a bit social for a governess?’

He took his time considering. ‘Do you know, I think it is, but you seem to have transformed yourself into a little friend of the family. My grandmother is quite taken with you. That’s not always the case. It’s certainly not in the contract. And you and Olly are into sharing secrets.’

She could feel herself flush. ‘How do you know?’

He leaned forward, giving her a slow, mocking smile. ‘This is my house, Ms Devlin I have no compunction whatever about eavesdropping.’

Simply for something to do, she started to drum her fingernails against the timber table. ‘I’ll have to remember that.’

‘Then I shouldn’t have told you. Can you do that while rubbing the top of your head?’

‘What?’ Completely thrown, she stared back at him. My God he was handsome!

‘I can,’ he said. ‘Perfect co-ordination.’ He began to drum the fingers of his right hand on the table while with his other hand he circled the top of her head.

‘Easy!’ She took up the challenge, thinking she would have the children try it.

That was how Olly found them.

Marissa checked on the children; found them soundly asleep, before going back downstairs. Going for an after dinner stroll with the master of Wungalla she thought a bit over the top, but he’d insisted and she needed this job. Besides, he knew perfectly well the way he made her feel. Not that she was going to allow her quite understandable susceptibilities to get out of hand. She was certain Holt McMaster was used to a great deal of female attention.

Had he gone for evening strolls with the previous governesses? she wondered. If so no wonder they got wild ideas into their heads. Had he and Lois taken nightly walks beneath the glorious Outback stars? Poor desperately angry and hurt, Lois. Had Lois been led down the metaphoric garden path? Were they, in fact, lovers? A man like that with such a powerful sexual aura, was hardly likely to have remained celibate after his divorce. Were there other lovers tucked away? Quite likely. But weren’t men always going on about a male heir? He would remarry. Running a vast cattle station was a man’s job in a man’s world.

‘Do we keep to the path?’ Her voice sounded composed, but her nerves were jingling.

‘Absolutely! The straight and narrow,’ he confirmed.

‘Did you ask my predecessors to take an after-dinner stroll?’ The words left her mouth before she had time to call them back.

He looked down his dead straight nose at her. ‘Just because I asked you doesn’t mean I’ve asked others, Ms Devlin.’

‘I’m sorry. Should I be flattered, Mr McMaster?’

‘You’re not supposed to be anything!’ he told her crisply. ‘Just enjoy the stars and the night air. By the way you can drop the Mr McMaster.’

‘So soon?’ How the man loosened her tongue!

‘You know, Ms Devlin, I’m concerned at the way you’re starting to question what I say.’

The truth of that jolted her. She attempted an explanation. ‘It’s only because you go out of your way to make me feel uncomfortable.’

‘How?’ He moved a long sweeping frond away from her face.

‘I don’t really know my position.’

‘More or less governess,’ he said. ‘I’ll always try to think of you that way. I can’t answer for my grandmother. You did tell her you’d read to her?’

‘Of course I will!’ She stared up at him, seeing him clearly in the glow from the exterior lights. ‘I’d be delighted to. I don’t say things I don’t mean.’

‘How I wish I could say the same of myself,’ he said dryly, taking hold of her elbow momentarily while he steered her onto a branching path. ‘I’m taking Lois back with me tomorrow. We’ll leave right after an early breakfast. I’m not asking you to run down and join us. I’ll be gone for several days, probably a week.’

‘I take it I’m in charge of the schoolroom?’ Her leaping nerves had gone haywire when he touched her. How could just the touch of a hand do that?

‘I could scarcely put you in charge of anything else. Gran told me you ride? I’d appreciate your being absolutely honest about this. You ride, or you can just about manage to stay on a very quiet horse?’

She had to move closer to him as the branching foliage reached for her. ‘I love the way you put things. I suppose I could say in all modesty I’m a good rider. My father bought me my first pony when I was five. He—’ She stopped abruptly, her memories clinging to her like a second skin.

‘And I hate it when you do that,’ he said. ‘Go on.’

‘I’ve said enough.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve answered the question. Riley can ride, as well. Both of us are what you call naturals. We love horses.’

‘Well, of course! We inherit our tastes. Georgy you will find has a fear of horses. She had a bad experience when she was quite small. Much the same thing happened at the pool. She fears the water.’

‘That’s sad.’ Was it possible he had thrown the child in at the deep end? She had heard of a few fathers who did that, genuinely believing their child would somehow miraculously swim. She couldn’t see Holt McMaster doing it—certainly not to a little girl—though she wished he would reach out more to his child. He seemed more like a laid-back, affectionate uncle than a father. ‘A few things have occurred to me that might cure that. I promise I would take things slowly. I understand children’s fears. Riley will be a big help. Like me he’s a good swimmer.’

‘Did you teach him?’

She pushed her windswept hair away from her face. ‘No, I didn’t.’

He glanced down at her. She was wearing a silvery little blouse she must have had tucked away somewhere in her travellight luggage. It looked expensive. It suited her. Oddly he had an idea he had seen it before. If it did turn out she was a single mother on the run she still managed to retain a look of exclusivity. Ms Marissa Devlin had a story to tell. One, he found, he badly wanted to hear. He knew he could have her background checked in a minute, but something in him shied away from that. He wanted to hear it from her own lips.

‘So who did?’ he asked finally.

‘My father.’ Marissa started to retreat automatically, but found herself adding. ‘He taught Riley lots of things.’

‘He did well. Riley’s a great little guy.’

‘I think so.’

The enchanted indigo-blue night and the brilliance of the stars should have soothed her, but however hard she tried, she had to accept she was succumbing to this man’s black magic. And it was magic. Like so many others before her, she was falling for it.

‘You haven’t asked me anything about my teaching methods?’ she said. ‘Or told me if there’s any subject in particular you want me to work on with Georgy?’

There was a torched pause. ‘Best of all, Ms Devlin, I’d like you to work on her day-to-day behaviour although I have to say whatever system you have in place it’s having great results. You did allow me to see your excellent reference from the worthy Doctor Bell, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, my friend and my mentor. She did everything she could to make life easier. At school at least.’

‘What exactly was wrong with your home life?’

‘Nothing was really wrong. It was just that I was looking for love.’

‘Aren’t we all?’

His answer surprised her. Why? Because he appeared so utterly self-contained? ‘Forgive me if I’m out of line but your divorce must have been very painful. For you and for Georgy.’

He glanced down at her, his tone sardonic. ‘When you say you’re out of line, you are, Ms Devlin.’

‘But you can ask me anything you like?’

‘Now don’t sound miffed. That’s different, isn’t it?’

‘Sorry.’ She forced her breath to stay even. They were moving through an avenue of shrubs freighted with fragrant blossom, but it was darker here, more mysterious, the only light that pouring out of the starry sky.

‘I suppose the best way I could describe my divorce was, a tremendous relief,‘ he said. ‘The truth, I believe, is always best.’

Was that another dig at her? ‘You’d fallen totally out of love?’ She couldn’t keep a little lick of reproof out of her voice.

‘I think we might start with your big love affair?’ he countered suavely. ‘Unless you prefer not to discuss it?’

‘Do you know I’ve never had a big love affair.’

‘That’s hard to believe,’ he said.

‘Riley is not my child.’

He stopped on the path, and turned her towards him. ‘So you say, but he plays your son to perfection.’

‘Is that so unusual in a little boy who …’

She knew she had a real problem talking about this, even to save herself and her reputation. She couldn’t bring herself to talk about her brilliant father’s descent into the hell of alcoholism, plagued as she was by the feeling she might burst into tears. She couldn’t bring herself to speak about the misery of his wasted life; the brief, failed relationship with Riley’s runaway mother. She and Riley were having a bad enough time trying to cope with his death, both of them orphans of the storm.

‘Okay,’ he said gently, registering the tremble that shook her. ‘We’d better walk back.’

She could still feel the imprint of his warm hands on her shoulders, searing the silk. ‘I didn’t lie to you,’ she said after a moment.

‘Just tell me this.’ His voice was filled with real gravity. ‘Are you afraid of someone?’

For one crazy moment she nearly burst out: you! I’m afraid of you and your effect on me. This was a man who literally took her breath away.

To Holt her long pause appeared like a dead give-away.

She managed a low, tremulous, ‘No!’

‘You and Riley are quite safe on Wungalla.’

‘I know that. You’ve been very kind.’

‘And here I was thinking you hadn’t noticed.’ His tone was at its most mocking.

They were walking beneath the canopy of tall trees when suddenly, with a screech as loud as a klaxon, a large bird swooped from its dark green cover appearing to make a dive for them.

Immediately Holt swung up an arm, while with the other he pulled the cowering Marissa to his side where she buried her head. ‘Get! Go on, get!’ he shouted at the bird.

With another screech, the bird was gone, flapping its wings heavily as it flew across the garden.

‘My God, what was it, an eagle?’ Marissa felt safe enough to lift her face.

‘Don’t be silly!’ He laughed, adding insult to injury. ‘An eagle wouldn’t be nesting in those trees. A wedge tailed eagle has a wingspan of over seven feet. An eagle could have picked you up and carried you away to its desert eyrie.’

‘I only meant it was huge!’ she said, defending herself. She was leaning against him and he still had one arm around her.

Holt tried hard to collect his thoughts. They were flowing through him like a stream in flood. The only way he could fight back temptation was to stay perfectly still. He had never in his life met a woman he so wanted to pick up and carry off. For long moments she had been snuggling against him, hiding her silky head against his chest. He wasn’t starving for sex. He knew he could get it whether or not he proposed marriage—but he was starving for sex with the right woman. One that moved him, tore at his heart. One he had wanted on sight. The great irony was he had no option but to restrain all his wild impulses. She and the boy were under his protection.

He released her carelessly. ‘Sorry the bird spooked you, but I think it’s safe to walk you home.’

Some note in his voice created the illusion that was what he meant.

Home.

She didn’t know if she would ever find one but Wungalla was the next best thing.

CHAPTER SIX

BY THE end of a week Marissa had established a workable routine. It hadn’t been entirely plain sailing. Georgy still gave in to the odd moment when she had to get a good lusty shout out of her system, but there were no screams, no tantrums. Instead day by day she blossomed into a bright happy co-operative child.

‘It’s your gentle, understanding hand, Marissa, my dear,’ Catherine told her. ‘You must make lessons interesting, too. I always knew Georgy was highly intelligent, but no one could have called her an apt pupil. The last governess was at her wit’s end.’

To Marissa’s mind, Riley pointed out the probable answer. ‘I must be like one of those quiet little ponies trainers use to keep their thoroughbreds calm before the races.’ He gave his infectious laugh, causing Georgy, who was most interested in the theory, to join in.

‘Well, I know about that, but how do you?’ Marissa asked, constantly surprised by Riley’s fund of general knowledge.

Riley’s response was instant. ‘Daddy told me.’ For the first time he didn’t sound distressed when he mentioned their father. ‘He even took me to the country races once. We had a great time. Do they have country races here?’ He turned to Georgy with a look of happy expectancy.

‘We have better!’ she pronounced, jumping up from her desk and waving her arms expansively. ‘We have polo matches. Holt is a beaut player! My mother used to call him The Conqueror. I think that means he used to hit other players on the conk with his mallet, but he didn’t. Last year it was Wungalla’s turn to host the final. We had the Polo Ball in the Great Hall. I didn’t get to go on account of being small, but my aunties came. They’re really nice to me. Aunty Alex was Holt’s hostess seeing I don’t have a mum. She did a great job. Aunty Lois came, as well. She’s head over heels in love with Holt but he won’t commit.’

Marissa stared at the little girl intently. ‘Who did you hear say that, Georgy?’

Georgy’s face settled into a wicked grin. ‘How do you know I didn’t say it myself?’

‘They’re the words of an adult,’ Marissa replied, ‘and they really shouldn’t be repeated. They can only cause embarrassment. Do you know what embarrassment means?’

Georgy shrugged her thin shoulders. ‘It’d make Aunty Lois mad of course. Ack-shally, it was Aunt Lois’s friend, Tiffany. The one she brought with her from Sydney. Are we ever going to see Aunt Lois again?’ She directed that question at Marissa who responded warmly.

‘Well, of course you are! Aunt Lois is family. I understand she’ll be here at Christmas.’

‘Just so long as you two guys are!’ said Georgy. ‘Riley can marry me when we grow up.’

Riley gulped.

‘You can sit down now, Georgy,’ Marissa said. ‘For now, we have to get cracking on your sums.’

‘Can Riley help me?’ Georgy returned obediently to her desk.

Most late afternoons Marissa and Riley enjoyed a swim. Georgy had begun by sitting on one of the recliners, gradually moving closer to the pool, until finally she chose to sit on the top step at the shallow end dangling her feet in the water.

‘Why don’t you come in?’ Riley called, his eyes the brightest blue in his glowing face. ‘It’s great! I’ll look after you.’

‘Don’t pressure her, Riley.’ Marissa swam up behind him speaking very quietly.

‘I don’t have a swimsuit,’ Georgy called. It didn’t sound like an excuse, rather regret.

‘Don’t worry, we’ll get one,’ Marissa called back. ‘Something really smart. Your father will be home Sunday.’

‘Are you going to tell him I’m cured?’ The expression on Georgy’s small face was one of hope.

‘Cured of what?’ Riley lifted himself out of the water to sit on the step beside her.

‘Cured of being frightened of the water,’ she told him simply. ‘My mother was always trying to throw me in the pool. She was really mean, like your mum.’

Marissa’s heart lurched. The children were growing close. They spent quite a lot of time talking to one another. From the sound of it Riley had been confiding in his new friend. She had to consider it as therapy. At least Georgy had accepted she wasn’t Riley’s mother.

‘After you teach me how to swim, you have to teach me how to sit on a horse,’ Georgy further astounded them by saying.

‘And you have to teach me to draw pictures as good as yours,’ Riley said.

‘You like my pictures?’ Georgy looked at him in amazement, her cheeks going quite pink.

‘Very, very much!’ said Riley.

Georgy started cracking her knuckles. ‘Well, Aunty Lois said she should show them to a psy … psy …’

‘Psychiatrist,’ Riley sweetly supplied. ‘Maybe you have way too much imagination for her?’

Georgy kissed him. ‘After tea I’m going to sing for you. You and Marissa. You’re my great friends. I have a really good voice but only Zoltan ever heard it.’

‘What songs do you know then?’ Riley eyed her with admiration.

Georgy jumped up so she could hand Marissa her towel. ‘Wait and see.’

If they were expecting nursery ditties, Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Click Go the Shears, Boy, Tom, Tom the Piper’s Son and the like, Georgy’s performance brought the house down. She had graciously consented to give her impromptu concert in her great-grandmother’s sitting room.

The pint-size performer began by introducing the first of two songs from her repertoire before she sang them.

Nothing like ‘Danny Boy’ to bring on the tears, especially when sung in a pure sweet pipe. Then to end the concert on an upbeat note, one of her favourites from The Sound of Music complete with a really good natural yodel.

‘Julie Andrews couldn’t have done it any better,’ Olly pronounced, admitting later it had never crossed her mind Georgy could sing. Shriek, yes, sing like a lark, no.

Catherine gave the child a lovely smile. ‘That was absolutely beautiful, Georgy. Thank you so much.’

‘I’m going to be a singer when I grow up,’ Georgy told her charmed audience. ‘I think singing to people would be great!’

Holt arrived home to a contented household. After some harrowing moments with Lois, whose undying, let it be said, unrequited, love for him, had been wrung out of her, it was the peaceful homecoming he needed. Why was it that some women insisted on falling in love with the one man they couldn’t have? Of course he had long known about Lois’s feelings for him. How could he not? Tara had been very cruel in the way she had privately ridiculed her sister. Even when he had objected quite strongly she had invariably replied, ‘It just makes me laugh, darling, that’s all! You’re mine, so just don’t forget it!’

But it was Tara who had broken their marriage vows. With a minor rock star of all people! A good-looking young guy, years younger than she who had been part of a band hired to play at a friend’s wedding reception in Sydney. He and his father had been out of the country at the time, as members of a trade commission. Had he been home it would never have happened. But Tara when she was in the mood, just had to have sex. The big problem was the rock star hadn’t been using a condom and the one thing Tara hadn’t figured on happening, happened. She had fallen pregnant with Georgia.

The truly extraordinary part was she hadn’t considered herself unfaithful. She hadn’t felt in the least guilty about what other people called adultery. It might well have been an out-of-body experience, something over which she had little control.

‘He meant nothing! Less than nothing, darling. Just a good-looking kid in skintight jeans. I was drunk, darling! It was a wild, wild night! He must have slipped me something when I wasn’t noticing.’

The marriage hadn’t come to an end right then. Not in name anyway, although he’d never touched her again. The truth was he had discovered very early in their marriage Tara wasn’t the young woman he’d so stupidly thought she was. Tara, his beautiful, charming fiancée had been playing a part, like an actress in a movie. She’d been so good at it she had fooled his entire family, except maybe for Gran, who had once tried to warn him by saying, ‘Tara is lovely, Holt, but not quite believable!’

Tara’s parents knew all about their very difficult elder daughter and her wildly fluctuating moods. So did Lois, but none of them had been interested in telling him. Tara was unstable in more ways than one. It was this instability that had caused him much worry about Georgia. It seemed very much as if she’d inherited her mother’s nature. But he had only been home a few days to find Georgia was behaving like a normal happy child. It gladdened his heart that she had been spared.

Marissa had told him about Georgia’s amazing talent for singing, clearly expecting him to demand to hear her that very moment. When he had declined saying it would have to wait until he had a little more time, he had caught the flash of disappointment and yes, censure, in her beautiful eyes. Clearly she thought he wasn’t much of a father. He didn’t much like it. But then, she was a young woman who was trying to deal with a lot of hangups of her own. Both of them had one thing in common. They had chosen faithless partners.