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Authors: Sara Craven

A Nanny for Christmas (16 page)

BOOK: A Nanny for Christmas
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'Can we go this afternoon?' Tara begged. 'Only I have to be home by teatime, because Daddy's promised to phone me every evening.'

Phoebe's heart skipped a painful beat. 'Then we'd better hurry,' she returned lightly.

The big shed at the nurseries where the trees were stored smelt deliciously of pine. There were a number of other people engaged on the same leisurely task. The real rush had still to begin.

After a lot of debate, Phoebe and Tara settled for a medium-sized tree which still had its own roots.

'Then we can plant it in the garden after Christmas,' Tara said happily.

The rest of the afternoon was occupied by sorting through the big box of baubles and tree hangings that Carrie had unearthed from a cupboard, and constructing from thin wire, cardboard and some old lace curtains an angel to occupy the top of the tree. She wore rather too much lipstick for a real seraph, and her halo was appropriately lop-sided, but Tara thought she was perfect.

She had a lot to tell Dominic during the precious phone call. Phoebe could hear her racing excitedly on out in the hall.

Dominic, she thought, would be lucky to get a word in. But apparently he managed it, because suddenly Tara came flying in.

'Daddy wants a word,' she announced. She looked suddenly apprehensive. 'I hope he isn't cross because I didn't go to school.'

So do I, thought Phoebe wryly.

But the deep voice was alive with amusement. 'Is this the same woeful scrap we had to comfort yesterday?'

'It seems so.' Phoebe hesitated. 'Did she mention that she's moved into your room? I-—I hope you don't mind.'

'As long as she doesn't imagine it's a long-term arrangement,' he returned drily. 'I have other plans.'

Phoebe bit her lip. 'Yes—of course.'

'Are you all right?' His voice was suddenly sharp. Even miles away, he didn't miss a nuance.

'Fine,' she said ultra-brightly. 'I've had a splendid day.'

'Mine hasn't been too bad either.' He paused. 'I may be back sooner than I expected.'

She despised herself for the swift lift of her heart that his words induced.

She said sedately, 'That's good.'

'I hope so,' he said gravely. 'After all, we have a lot to talk about.'

She said hurriedly, 'I think Tara's education should be a priority.'

She heard something that might have been a sigh. 'Yes, I'm sure you do. But we'll discuss the agenda when I get there.' He paused again. 'Goodnight, Phoebe. Be good. Keep safe.'

She replaced the receiver slowly, aware of the flutter of her pulses. His parting words seemed to enfold her like strong arms.

Only it was far too late for safety now, she acknowledged, sighing in her own turn as she returned to the drawing room.

'You're all pink,' said Tara, adding reflectively, 'I think we should buy some mistletoe.'

 

Phoebe thought she might have trouble getting Tara to bed that night, but the little girl behaved with total docility, sliding under the covers of the vast bed with her favourite teddy.

'The sooner I go to sleep, the sooner it will be another day and Daddy will come back,' she confided.

'I can't argue with that.' Phoebe kissed her goodnight.

Carrie had gone to the village Women's Institute Christmas party, and the house seemed deathly quiet and empty.

Phoebe tidied away the unused decorations, decided it would be best to shop for some fresh tinsel, and fetched the step-stool for a last attempt at straightening the angel's halo.

'That's better,' she said rather breathlessly, after a brief struggle.

'Much,' an amused male voice commented from behind her, and hands closed on her waist, lifting her down from the stool.

Even as her lips parted in a yelp of fright she knew that she recognised the voice. She wrenched herself free, spinning round, her heart in her mouth.

'Tony—Tony Cathery,' she said unsteadily. 'What the hell are you doing here?'

'I could ask you the same thing,' he said, looking equally taken aback. 'Where's old Dom?'

'He's not here at the moment.' Phoebe gave him a look of loathing. 'Don't tell me he's expecting you?'

He laughed. 'I wouldn't go that far, but he knows I keep turning up, like a bad penny.' His own glance was appraising. 'What's your excuse?'

'I work here,' she said huskily. 'I'm his daughter's nanny.'

'Seriously?' His brows lifted. 'Well,' he said, 'there's a turn-up for the books. So your original brief encounter has all been forgiven and forgotten?'

Phoebe hesitated fatally. 'Naturally.'

'Fascinating,' he said softly. 'Now, I got the opposite impression from Dom. But they do say that time is a great healer.' He crossed to the drinks table and poured himself a generous whisky.

'Care to join me?' He waved the decanter at her. 'Oh, no, I was forgetting. You prefer vodka.'

'You disgust me,' Phoebe said slowly.

Tony laughed. 'That isn't how you used to feel, my sweet.-There was a time when you couldn't get enough of me.'

Phoebe walked to the door. 'I think you'd better leave.'

'Ordering me out? That's a bit rich coming from a nanny, darling, to a member of the family.' He smiled maliciously at her startled expression. 'You didn't know that Dom and I were tenuously related, did you? Which proves that you and he have never discussed the events of six years ago. Because he'd have told you, for sure.'

'My God.' Phoebe remembered an earlier conversation with Carrie. 'You're his stepbrother.'

'Got it in one,' he said negligently. He drank some of the whisky, watching her reflectively. 'So, it's still a big secret. How interesting—and how useful.'

Phoebe lifted her chin. 'Why so?'

'Well, for one thing you can stop giving me orders,' he said with sudden coldness. 'That is, if you want your pitiful attempt at seduction to remain a secret. And I don't think you'd last long if Dom knew who you really were.' He tutted. 'Just imagine him letting the little slag he threw out of his house look after his precious child.'

He shook his head sadly. 'He said some pretty rotten things to me too—almost unforgivable actually. And I was only trying to organise his usual welcome. Serena, you see, used to greet him like that—when she was in the mood. Problem was, she used to greet a lot of people in the same way, including myself. And Dom caught us together. In his room. On his bed.'

He grimaced. 'Big mistake. I became seriously
persona non grata,
and so did poor Serena. So I tried to get back into his good books by providing him with compensation. After all, one naked blonde on a bed is pretty much like another. Except that you were totally inexperienced,' he added. 'And Dom might have enjoyed the contrast after Serena's—accomplishments.'

He looked her over. His smile made Phoebe feel dirty. 'I might have enjoyed you myself, actually. You improved one hundred per cent once we'd got your kit off. An amazing little body.'

Phoebe took a deep breath. 'I don't know what you're trying to achieve, but it's not working. I'd like you to go-'

'Well, there we differ.' Tony poured himself some more whisky. 'Because I'm staying. I suppose Dom's still got that old dragon of a housekeeper? Roust her out, will you, and get her to knock me up a meal.'

'She's out,' Phoebe said shortly.

His smile widened. 'And I suspect anything you cooked for me might not do me any good.' He shrugged. 'I'll have to go to the pub. Would you like to come with me?'

'No,' she said. 'I wouldn't.'

'Of course,' he said. 'You have to babysit.'

'Yes,' she said. 'But that makes no actual difference. Even if I were free, I wouldn't come with you.'

He sighed theatrically. 'Well, that's me told. And yet once you'd have walked over broken glass to get to me. How fickle you are.'

'No,' she said. 'I just grew up, that's all.'

He was still smiling, but there was no amusement in the blue eyes. 'Then I shall eat alone.'

'They do rooms as well,' she threw after his retreating figure.

But it was sheer bravado, she acknowledged once she was alone. Inwardly she was shaking like a leaf, unable to credit what had just happened.

It was like some macabre joke, she thought numbly.

She found she was wandering round the room, walking from the fireplace to the window, over to the tree to make some minor adjustment, and back again.

Calm down, she adjured herself, swallowing. Or you're letting him win. He can't hurt you any more...

Only-that wasn't strictly true, she reminded herself wretchedly. He could do a lot of damage, if he wanted.

Dominic clearly had no illusions about him, but he trusted her, and she wanted it to stay that way. She couldn't face his contempt. Not again. Because this time it would destroy her for ever.

She sat down and picked up the paper, but the words swam before her eyes in a meaningless blur.

When the phone rang suddenly, she nearly jumped out of her skin. She went out into the hall and picked up the receiver with trembling hands.

'Hello?' she said uncertainly.

'Phoebe?'

She gasped. 'Oh, Dominic, it's you. Is—is something wrong?'

'I was just about to ask you the same thing,' he returned.

She bit her lip. 'No—everything's fine,' she returned constrainedly. 'I was just surprised to hear from you again.'

'I wanted to talk to you when Tara was out of the way.' He paused. 'That is allowed under the agreement, I hope? You don't feel you have to fetch Carrie as chaperon?'

In spite of herself, she laughed. 'I think we can trust ourselves.'

'I was going to mention this last night, but other events intervened. There's a craft shop in Midburton with an amazing dolls' house for sale. I wondered about buying it as Tara's Christmas present. What do you think?'

'It sounds really good. Has it got furniture?'

'No, they make that separately. I want you to go over there and have a look, and reserve it if you approve. Pick out some furniture too, and tell them to send an invoice to my office. They're expecting you, so they won't sell it over our heads.'

'Oh, I'd love that.' Phoebe remembered her own dolls' house, and the hours of pleasure and happy daydreams it had brought her. 'That makes up for—' She stopped abruptly, aware she was on dangerous ground.

'Makes up for what?' He sounded concerned.

'Oh—general dreariness,' she invented hastily. 'You know.'

'What happened to the splendid day?'

'It—ended.'

'So did mine. It's pretty depressing here too.' He paused. 'I wish I was at home.'

'So do I,' she admitted unguardedly.

'Why, Phoebe.' There was laughter in his voice, but no mockery. 'Can I take it you're missing me?'

'I was thinking of Tara,' she said primly.

A slight sound made her turn her head. To her horror, she saw Tony standing in the doorway which led to the kitchen quarters.

'I—I'd better go,' she told Dominic.

'Condemning me to my hotel room and cable television? That isn't very kind.' His voice sounded odd, almost wistful—but the telephone distorted everything.

'I'm sure there are lots of things you could do.' Phoebe was burningly aware of the eavesdropper a few yards away. 'I've load? of jobs myself.'

'Then I'm sorry I disturbed you.' He was courteous, but there was no more laughter. 'Please don't forget about the dolls' house.'

'I'll see to it first thing tomorrow, after I've taken Tara to school.' She was about to add. Maybe I can get some tiny dolls and dress them for her, when she realised he'd rung off.

Slowly she replaced her own receiver.

'YoOir esteemed employer, I presume, ringing for a little bedtime chat? How cosy. Is this a regular occurrence?'

Phoebe bit her lip. 'I thought you'd gone to the pub.'

'No, I decided to make myself a sandwich instead. I didn't want to come back and find I'd been locked out,' Tony returned silkily. 'Is Carrie back yet? I need a bed making up.' 'No, she isn't,' Phoebe told him shortly.

He tutted. 'Then you'll have to do it yourself, nanny dear. Unless you'd like me to share your bed?' he added, eyeing her speculatively.

'No, I wouldn't,' Phoebe said calmly. 'And what makes you think Dominic will allow you to stay under his roof?'

'It is Christmas—the time of goodwill. Or do you think I'm stretching brotherly love too far?'

'Yes, I do.'

'Then it's a good job he isn't here.' He made an impatient gesture. 'Look, Phoebe, I need somewhere to sleep for a couple of nights. Help me out on this, and I won't tell Dom your dark secret. Is it a deal?'

'I suppose I can't really stop you,' she said tautly. 'But you can make up your own bed.'

He winced. 'The years haven't improved you, Phoebe. You never used to be this hard. Where are you sleeping?'

'That's none of your business.'

He shrugged. 'Please yourself—but don't blame me if I lose my way, and come blundering in during the night.'

'All right,' she said curtly. 'I'm sleeping in Dominic's room.'

His brows rose. 'Really, darling? How Freudian. Or is this the usual arrangement? In spite of everything, have two lonely hearts begun to beat as one?' He whistled. 'It would explain the intimate phone call.'

'It's to keep Tara company,' she said flatly. 'And she'll already be asleep, so keep out.'

Tony shrugged again. 'Fine. But you don't know what you're missing.'

Phoebe flayed him with a look. 'On the contrary,' she said. 'I know exactly.'

She went out of the room and up the stairs. She collected a few necessities from her own room, then went softly down to Dominic's and tiptoed in.

Tara was indeed fast asleep, and did not stir when Phoebe gingerly lifted the covers and crept in beside her.

She felt deathly tired, but sleep was elusive. As soon as she tried to relax, her mind went into pandemonium over the evening's revelations.

All those years, she thought. All those years I hated Dominic. Blamed him for cruelty and insensitivity when all the time he must have been totally traumatised himself.

What must he have felt—finding his wife with his own stepbrother? she wondered helplessly. And then, after all that, to find himself the victim of a sadistic practical joke.

BOOK: A Nanny for Christmas
13.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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