Part-Time Wife (2 page)

He nodded. His dark eyebrows drew together. "I'm currently involved in a special investigation. I won't bore you with the details, but it requires me to be gone odd hours. I never know when I'm going to be called away. The boys are too young to be left alone. They need some stability. I've had five nannies in the last four months."

She frowned. "What's wrong with your children?"

He hesitated just long enough for her to suspect there really
was
a problem. "My wife and I divorced several years ago. Although she didn't have much contact with them, her death last year shook them up. The woman who had looked after them left shortly after that. Since then it's been one change after another. With my new assignment and being gone all the time—" He turned his hands palms up and spread his fingers. "They're scared little kids who need someone to look after them. Nothing more."

She rose to her feet and walked to the window. "You're not playing fair," she said slowly, staring at the house across the street. "I have this mental picture of poor starving orphans shivering in the snow."

"Based on the weekly food bill, they're not starving."

Jill grimaced. Damn him, and damn Kim. When her friend returned from her honeymoon, Jill was going to give her a piece of her mind. This wasn't fair. Not to Jill, not to Craig and not to the kids.

She fought against a twinge of guilt. She was partially to blame. When Kim had come to her and talked about eloping, Jill had encouraged her to just go for it. Her life was so upside-down, she wanted someone she cared about to be happy. Kim had worried about the job, and Jill had blithely told her she would step in.

Next time I'll find out the details before agreeing, Jill promised herself. In the meantime, three boys didn't have anyone to look after them.

"I find it difficult to believe that you couldn't find one other nanny you liked," Jill said.

Craig didn't answer. She turned to face him and found him standing only a few feet behind her. She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.

"I've taken enough of your time," he said and placed his hat on his head. The black uniform emphasized his dark hair and eyes.

He was leaving. That would be best for both of them. Yet what about the children? She really didn't have a job right now, and she wasn't ready to go back to
San Clemente
. She might never be ready to do that. Besides, she could use the money. If it wasn't permanent, if she were careful to keep her heart firmly under lock and key, it might not be so bad. She would be a caretaker; she would not get personally involved.

"Spring break is in a few weeks," she said quickly. "Let's give each other a one-week trial. If it works out, I'll stay until break. That will give you time to find someone who wants a permanent position. Agreed?"

He stared down at her. She couldn't read his expression. She wondered how much of that was because he was a cop and how much of it was the man himself. He didn't look like the chatty, outgoing type.

He crossed to her in two long strides and held out his hand. "Agreed."

His smile once again made her knees threaten to buckle. At least she was short enough that if she collapsed it wasn't a real long way down. She extended her hand toward him and tried to give him
her
best smile. He didn't seem the least bit affected. Hmm, she would have to work on it more. She wanted to leave men in a broken heap trailing behind her. Maybe it was—

His skin brushed against hers. Instantly electricity raced between them. His long fingers and broad palm swallowed her hand nearly up to her wrist. Her heart thundered in double time and her breathing choked to a stop. She hoped she didn't look as stunned as she felt. She hoped it was just a quirk of fate, a not-to-be-repeated cosmic thing, because there was no way she was going to get involved with a man. Any man. And certainly not one with children.

Been there, done that, she reminded herself. The punishing aftermath was still evident in her healing emotional wounds.

"Do you have a car?" Craig asked, apparently unfazed by the sparks leaping between them. Or maybe they were just leaping one way.

"Uh-huh." She withdrew her hand and, before she could stop herself, wiped it on her robe. The soft cotton did nothing to erase the electricity still prickling her skin.

He raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. She was grateful.

"If you want to pack a few things, we could go right over." He glanced at his watch. "My neighbor could only stay with the boys for an hour."

"They're home today?"

"It's Saturday."

"Oh. I forgot." With the excitement of getting Kim ready to elope, there hadn't been time to keep track of mundane things like days of the week. "No problem." She glanced down at her robe. "Let me take a quick shower and pack enough to last until Monday. I can come back here while they're in school. I still have a few things to take care of for Kim."

She started toward the doorway, then glanced at him. "You can have a seat. Or there's coffee in the kitchen. Whatever."

"I'll wait here," he said.

She stepped into the hallway.

"Jill?"

She turned around. He'd removed his hat and was running his hand through his hair. His self-control slipped a bit, and she saw the worry in his eyes. "I hope Kim knows what a good friend you are. You didn't have to do this. I really appreciate it."

The compliment made her uncomfortable. "No big deal. I'm a sucker for kids and puppies. Be right out."

Even as she hurried up the stairs, she started making a mental list of everything she would have to do. Packing, stopping the paper. She wouldn't worry about the mail today. But Monday she would put it on vacation hold. Kim didn't have any pets, which made that part easy. She would tell Kim's neighbor she was leaving so someone would keep an eye on the house. She would need Craig's phone number, too.

She walked into the guest bathroom and closed the door behind her. As she glanced into the mirror, she stifled a groan. Her hair was sticking up in spiky tufts. Her mother had promised her it would darken as she got older, but it was still the color of a rag doll's. She wore it short because otherwise she looked out of proportion. Without makeup, her eyes looked too big and green. That, combined with her small, almost triangular button nose, gave her an uncomfortable resemblance to the kitten so many people likened her to.

"I'll just pencil in some whiskers and be done with it," she muttered under her breath, then turned her back on the image and flipped on the shower. No wonder Craig Haynes had hired her. She looked young enough to be the perfect playmate for his kids.

* * *

Craig drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Now that Jill had left the room, he was able to ease up on his iron-willed self-control. It was as if the dam burst, as heated blood coursed through his body, settling inappropriately in his groin. He walked to the window and stared out blindly. He hoped his new nanny believed in taking long showers. He was going to need the extra time to get himself back under control.

He could handle the fact that she was an attractive woman, although the petite pixie look had never been his type. Big green eyes and a smile that promised two parts humor and one part sin was okay with him, too. The tousled just-out-of-bed look was a bit more of a problem, but he knew he would have been able to keep it all together … if she hadn't been naked.

He swore under his breath. He'd been so worried about the boys, he hadn't noticed at first. But when she'd settled on the sofa, her full breasts had been evident beneath the thin fabric of her robe. He hadn't had a date in two years. He hadn't been with a woman for even longer. Unfortunately, his body had chosen that moment to surge back to life.

Even with her out of the room and only the faint hint of her perfume lingering in the air, he could feel the need flowing through him. He wanted to go to her and hold her in his arms. He wanted to kiss her and—

"Stop it," he said aloud.

He had to get control. All that mattered was finding someone to take care of the boys. Jill Bradford was only a stopgap. He was going to have to find someone permanent. As if he had the time.

He rubbed the back of his neck. The dull ache that began between his shoulder blades and worked its way up his neck had become a permanent companion. Now it stepped up a degree in intensity. He would start interviewing right away. The agency swore they didn't have anyone else to send him, but there had to be someone. Maybe the perfect nanny was about to leave her job somewhere else. He could only hope.

He heard footsteps overhead. He thought about all he knew about Jill. Kim had mentioned she was recovering from a messy divorce. He could relate to that. He'd gone through the same thing nearly six years ago. Krystal had wanted out, but she hadn't made it easy. He'd hung on as best he could, trying to be both mother and father to the boys. He'd thought he was doing well, until this last year.

What had gone wrong? Was it the hours he put in? He didn't usually volunteer for special assignments, but this one was different. There wasn't a lot of glory involved. No big drug busts, no fifteen minutes of fame on the local news report. Just directly helping those in need. He'd wanted to give something back. Were his kids paying the price for that?

He knew some of the trouble with the boys was that they'd lost Mrs. Miller. She'd been a part of their lives for nearly five years. Coming on the heels of their mother's death— Craig shook his head. No wonder the boys weren't themselves.

He'd done his best to keep it from happening, but history was repeating itself again. He was gone a lot, as his father had been. He was failing his kids, and he wasn't sure how to make it better.

A
thunk
from the top of the stairs broke through his musings. He walked through the living room and into the hallway. Jill was dragging down a suitcase almost as big as she was.

"I'll get that," he said, taking the stairs two at a time.

"I can manage," she said politely, then stood aside to let him pick up the case. It wasn't very heavy, but she was so tiny, how big could her clothes be?

"Is this it?" he asked when he reached the first floor.

She nodded. "I can come back and get whatever I've forgotten." She had a purse over her shoulder. She shook it once, then frowned. "Keys. I need keys."

While she glanced at the small table in the entryway, then patted her pockets, he studied her. She'd made a quick change. Her short red hair was still damp from her shower. Bangs fell nearly to her delicate eyebrows. The style left her small ears bare. She'd put on some makeup. With it, she looked older, although not anywhere near thirty, which he knew she was. She wore faded jeans that hinted at the curvy legs he'd seen just a few minutes before. The baggy white sweatshirt dwarfed her small frame. She'd pushed up the sleeves, exposing finely boned hands and wrists.

He had the uncomfortable feeling that a man as big as himself could easily crush her if he wasn't careful.

"My keys," she muttered, shaking her purse again. "Come on, Jill, you usually have it together."

"But do you usually talk to yourself?" he asked.

She looked startled, as if she'd forgotten he was there. Then she grinned. "Yeah, I usually do. Sorry. You and the boys will have to get used to it."

"Don't worry. I talk to myself, too. A hazard of the job. Too much time alone." He motioned toward the front door. "Are those your keys in the lock?"

She turned around and stared. "Oh. Thanks."

He pulled them free. "Not a good idea to keep them here. If someone breaks in you want to make it hard, not easy. By leaving the keys in the door, you let him walk out the front, like he belongs here." He shifted the keys until he held the one to her car. "Not to mention giving him a nice late-model vehicle to steal."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But if I don't keep them in the door, I lose them."

"You lost them anyway."

She stared at him, then reached for her keys. He let them fall in her palm, rather than risk direct contact. Her expression turned thoughtful.

"Craig, do you ever go off duty?"

"Not usually."

"How do the boys feel about that?"

Her green eyes saw too much, he thought grimly. He raised the suitcase slightly. "Do you need anything else?" he asked.

"Nope. I'm ready." She followed him out onto the porch, then locked the door behind them. "What, no patrol car?"

He pointed to his two-year-old Honda. "Sorry, no. There's a utility vehicle at the house so you can cart the boys and their sports equipment around, but I use this to get back and forth to the station."

Her red Mustang convertible was parked in the driveway. She opened the trunk and he set the suitcase inside. "Get many tickets in this?" he asked.

"It looks flashy, but I never drive fast. I know that's disappointing, but at heart I'm pretty boring."

He was about to tell her he wouldn't have used that word to describe her. Cute, maybe. Tempting, probably. Sexy, definitely. But boring? Not in this lifetime. And any man who thought that obviously had his head up his—

He cleared his throat. "I live south of here. In Fern Hill."

"I'm not familiar with the neighborhood."