Harlequin Special Edition November 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Weaver Christmas Gift\The Soldier's Holiday Homecoming\Santa's Playbook (35 page)

Lily Palmer? Had to be.

One look at her sparkling green eyes and her dimpled smile and Cullen had to fight the urge to hire her right on the spot. She looked like a blonde angel backlit by a ray of sunshine that had finally broken through the gray storm clouds.

As the sound of bickering kids trailed through the half-open front door, he wondered if he could interview her on the front porch and not let her inside until she had taken an irrevocable pledge to work as a nanny for the month of December, which was the length of time she was available to nanny.

God, please don't let the kids run her off the same way they sent Angie packing.

“Hello,” she said. Her smile didn't falter and the sparkle in her green eyes didn't fade despite the unwelcoming sounds coming from the house and the figurative horns and fangs that Angie sported as she stood next to Lily on the front-porch step.

“I'm Lily Palmer. I'm looking for Dr. Cullen Dunlevy. I'm here to interview for the nanny position.”

“I'm Cullen Dunlevy.” That was when he noticed that her eyes weren't just green; they were flecked with gold and her full lips were...stunning. For a fleeting moment he wanted nothing more than to taste those lips, but he mentally shook away the inappropriate thought.

This wasn't a speed-dating interview.

He needed her.

Uh
— He needed her to
watch the kids.
He'd be wise to keep himself in check.

Angie laughed. It was a bitter sound.

“I have two pieces of advice for you, Lily Palmer,” she said. “Run while you can. Run and save yourself.”

* * *

Lily looked at the shockingly handsome man who had answered the door and then back at the frazzled-looking middle-aged woman, who made a snorting sound as she turned away from them and virtually jogged toward the driveway.

“Have I come at a bad time?” Lily asked.

She could hear a barking dog and children's voices somewhere behind the half-open front door. The sounds were temporarily eclipsed by the cranking engine of the woman's sports car.

Dr. Dunlevy smiled sheepishly. A dimple winked at her and his hazel eyes shone with boyish charm. Were they hazel or green? She resisted the urge to stare.

“Actually you couldn't have arrived at a better time. I'm sorry about all of this.” He held out his hands, palms turned toward the gray sky. “Just so you know, Angie wasn't here applying for the job. Actually she was my housekeeper. Emphasis on the
was.
She just quit. I hope that won't scare you off.”

Lily glanced over her shoulder in the direction of where the woman's car had been parked. “Well, no. I teach second graders during the school year. I don't scare that easily. Unless there's something you're not telling me.”

If she didn't need this job so badly, she might admit that Angie's exit did concern her just a wee bit. But the private school where Lily taught was closed for the entire month of December—for family ski trips and holiday celebrations. Having a month off was a nice perk for the privileged, but for those who needed money, the unpaid vacation was a hardship.

When she'd heard that Dr. Dunlevy, who worked with the husband of her friend Kate Thayer, was looking for a temporary nanny, it sounded like the perfect job. Especially when she learned he was paying two and a half times what she could earn working a temporary seasonal retail position. She wouldn't let a disgruntled former employee and a barking dog scare her off.

She swallowed her apprehension.

“I guess you really do need extra help,” she said.

“You can say that again. Let's go inside. I need to check on the kids. You can meet them, and then we can start over.”

Dr. Dunlevy pushed open the door and motioned her inside. He was tall and much younger than she had imagined when Kate had explained the sad situation—that the kids' parents had died in a car accident and the family that was supposed to adopt them had to back out at the last minute. Lily had envisioned Celebration Memorial's chief of staff to be...older and distinguished. But not quite so tall, broad shouldered and good-looking.

She leaned her umbrella against the porch rail and stepped into the foyer. Loosening her scarf, she used the opportunity to take a good look around. Nice place. From the foyer, Lily could see into the living room. It was a bit on the cold and formal side for her taste, but it was nicely done. The high ceilings made the large room, with its stark white walls and modern art, gray marble floors and light-colored leather furniture, look even more expansive. The place definitely had a decorator's touch, and it looked utterly unlived in. It reminded her of the cold, formal feel of a modern museum she'd visited on her senior class trip to New York City. It was interesting to look at, but she couldn't imagine getting comfortable in a place like this. She certainly couldn't imagine young children living here. Not with all this white and glass. It would show every little smidgen of dirt, but it wasn't her place to judge.

Lily caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. When she looked closer, she saw a small girl with dark, curly hair, who couldn't have been any older than four or five, huddled in the corner by the sofa. She had her arms around a big, black wet-looking dog, who sat panting patiently, letting the little girl hug him.

Lily touched Dr. Dunlevy's arm and gestured with a slight nod of her head in the girl's direction.

“That's Hannah,” he said and turned his attention to the child. “What are you doing, Hannah? Are you okay?”

The girl didn't answer but seemed to tighten her hold on the dog's neck.

“Hannah, will you come over here, please?” His voice sounded as if he was purposely trying to infuse a smile into it. “There's someone I want you to meet.”

The girl gave a quick shake of her head and buried her face in the dog's shaggy back. Dr. Dunlevy looked at Lily and gave an exasperated shrug. He looked exhausted. Lily held up a finger and then walked over to the girl.

“Hi, Hannah, I'm Lily. When I was about your age, I used to have a dog that looked an awful lot like yours. Mine was named Scout. What's your dog's name?”

Hannah remained silent and sullen. Lily sat down on the edge of the couch nearest the girl and the dog. She reached out a hand and let the dog sniff it. He licked her and Lily took that as an invitation to give him a scratch behind the ears.

“You're a good dog, aren't you?” Lily cooed. He was a little smelly, emitting an odor of
eau de wet dog,
but he was definitely a gentle animal.

“His name is Franklin,” the girl said in a small, shaky voice. “Will you protect Franklin from Angie? Angie said she was going to put him out in the front yard. She wants him to go away like my mommy did.”

Lily's heart tightened. She slanted Cullen a concerned, questioning look. He knit his brow and gave a quick shake of the head.

“Hannah, she didn't mean it,” he said. “Angie was just upset because Franklin got mud on her new pants. We're not going to let anything happen to your dog. I promise.”

“I don't like Angie.” Hannah was crying. “She's mean.”

“Oh, honey, please don't cry.” Lily took a chance and reached out and smoothed a dark brown curl off the girl's tearstained cheek. Hannah didn't pull away. “Did you hear what Dr. Dunlevy said? We promise you no one is going to make Franklin go away. If they try, they're going to have to tangle with me.”

Lily knew she shouldn't speak for the man who hadn't even hired her yet or talk as if she'd be around to protect the girl. But the poor child was overwrought. She'd lost her parents and her adoptive family, and now she feared she'd have to give up her dog. She must be confused and petrified. With or without permission—or the job—Lily felt it her duty to reassure the little girl.

Franklin licked Lily's hand again.

“Franklin says he likes you,” Hannah said, peeking up at Lily through long, thick, wet lashes.

“Well, I like him, too.” As Lily smiled at Hannah, she heard young voices coming from the other room.

“The other children are in the family room,” said Dr. Dunlevy. “I'd like you to meet them, too.”

“Hannah, would you like to come and introduce me to your brothers and sisters?” Lily asked.

The girl shook her head. “I only have
one
brother. One brother and two sisters.”

“Thank you for letting me know,” Lily said. “I think Franklin needs you now. So Dr. Dunlevy can introduce me to the others. But it was very nice meeting you. I hope to see you again.”

Hannah didn't answer. She buried her face in the dog's back. As Lily turned and followed Dr. Dunlevy into the kitchen, she heard the sound of a slamming back door and then stillness settled over the house. The kids must've gone outside.

She could see from the kitchen through to the family room. The far wall was made up of tall windows, but from her vantage point, she couldn't see outside where the kids might have gone.

Since Dr. Dunlevy didn't seem concerned about their whereabouts, she took the opportunity to admire the kitchen. With its stainless-steel appliances and light-colored granite, it had the same sleek, unlived-in feel as the foyer and living room. But then she saw the six-burner gas range and the double oven. She immediately had appliance envy. How many holidays had she and her grandmother talked about the virtues of a kitchen with two ovens? It was a fantasy, like something reserved for television shows featuring dream homes and other places far beyond her reality.

“This is a great kitchen,” she said, smoothing her hand over the tiger-eye granite. “Do you cook?”

“Me?” Dr. Dunlevy laughed. “No. Other than using the refrigerator and the espresso machine—” he pointed to a fancy built-in coffeemaker with an array of spouts, nozzles and handles “—I've never used any of the appliances in here.”

Lily had to consciously keep herself from sighing. He must've seen the envy in her eyes.

“Do you cook?”

“I do. You might say that food is my favorite hobby.”

Standing there with his hands on his hips and his head cocked to one side, he seemed to size her up for a minute. He really was a
good-looking
guy.

“You're more than welcome to cook for me anytime,” he said.

The suggestion made her stomach perform an odd dip. She desperately hoped her face didn't betray her.

“I can't remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal.”

Ah. Okay.

There it was. It wasn't an invitation to cook for him. Of course it wasn't. Still, for a moment, Lily imagined what it would be like to cook dinner for a handsome man like him in a kitchen like this. Simultaneously, she felt irresistibly drawn to the idea and impossibly out of her element.

“The kids and I have been eating a lot of pizza and takeout since they arrived. Before they got here, I ate most of my meals at the hospital.”

She blinked away the ridiculous image of dining with the handsome doctor over a candlelit meal she'd whipped up in this dream kitchen. Good grief, she was his employee. Actually she wasn't even that. He hadn't even offered her the job yet. She needed to remember her place and stay focused on what was important. She couldn't let her mind wander to places it had no business going. So what if he was a handsome man? So what if he had a nice smile and great eyes? If he hired her, her focus would be on the children.

From the kitchen, she followed him into the large family room that looked a little more comfortable than the rest of the house. It had warm wooden floors and an overstuffed sofa arranged across from two masculine-looking leather club chairs. A massive wooden coffee table anchored the grouping. On the wall to her right, a huge flat-screen TV loomed above a fireplace. The windows on the far wall overlooked a nice fenced-in backyard. She could see it better from here and finally caught her first glimpse of the other three kids.

“While Megan, George and Bridget are playing out back, why don't we talk for a few minutes and then I'll introduce you to them?”

Lily watched the trio running around the yard, playing what looked like a game of tag. At the moment, the kids showed no traces of sadness. Still, her heart broke for them. She hadn't been much older than they looked when her own parents were killed in a car accident. Her one silver lining had been that her maternal grandmother had taken her in and raised her. Her mother had been an only child. So she and her grandmother shared more of a mother-daughter relationship, filling the void for each other the best that they could. At least they'd had each other until she'd died. She'd been gone almost two years now.

Lily had always felt loved and safe and wanted with her. Dr. Dunlevy obviously cared about the well-being of his charges, but she couldn't help wondering what the kids must be going through. To be so young and dependent.

Or maybe the innocence of youth protected them? She hoped so.

Lily settled herself on the edge of the sofa. Dr. Dunlevy sat across from her on the closest chair. With his elbows on the armrests, he steepled his fingers and gazed at her for a moment, as if he were collecting his thoughts.

Finally he said, “Lily Palmer, I'm glad you don't scare easily. Please tell me you know how to make order out of chaos.”

She sat up straighter, unsure how to answer that question.

He laughed. “Even if you don't, you come highly recommended.”

“That's very nice to know.”

She held up a finger. “I have a résumé for you.” She slid a folio out of her shoulder bag and retrieved a résumé and list of references. He gave it a once-over.

“Have you had any experience as a nanny in the past?”

“Actually I haven't. No nanny experience per se, but as I said, I'm a second-grade schoolteacher.”

“I suppose that's like being a full-time nanny to a bunch of kids,” he said.