A Tempting Engagement Part 3

"I know a lot of people." Chantal hitched a shoulder nonchalantly. "If I ask around, I'm sure I can scare up anothernannying job, although it may not be close toPlenty . Does that matter?" "Only if they need a nanny who drives." Her first, tentative flutter of hope took a swan dive. Which parents chose a caregiver who couldn't ferry their kids to school orkindy or the park? Who couldn't, in an emergency, get them to a doctor quickly?

"You didn't sell your car, did you?" Chantal asked, eyes narrowing with uncanny perception. "Did you crash it while you were inSydney? That's it, isn't it? I recognize a fellow victim when I see one." "But you're driving again," Emily said, remembering Chantal's bad wreck. "Wasn't that hard, getting back behind the wheel?"

"It took some discipline and practice, but I conquered my fear." Chantal reached out again, her touch warm and supportive. "We'll have you ready forLe Mansbefore you leave here, Emily."

"You're seven months pregnant." "Quadewill do it if I ask nicely." Chantal winked. "If I askreally nicely, he might let you drive the sportscar."

The tears returned, this time more a pea-souperfog than a mist. Emily wiped them with the back of herhand, sniffed,smiled shakily. "Thank you. I don't know why you're doing all this." Chantal shrugged. "Remnant guilt, maybe."

"What?"

"I wanted your case so badly I encouraged you to fight your grandfather's will. I didn't do you any favors, huh?"

"It was mychoice, I wanted to do something proactive for a change. You didn't influence my decision." Emily paused, remembering Mitch's heated challenge on her porch that first night. "Do you think I gave up too easily? That I should have appealed?"

"That was your choice to make," Chantal said firmly.

"Your brother thinks I did."

"Thinks what?"

At that deep-voiced question they both started and turned. Mitch's height and width filled much of the

doorway; his black sweater and dark-stubbled jaw lent him an air of danger, and that awareness swamped. Emily in a slow rolling wave.

Mitch noticed that unguarded response, exactly the same as when she had opened her door Sunday morning, pale hair spilling over her shoulders, all pink-faced surprise and soft-eyed temptation. And Mitch reacted in the exact same way now, with sudden, insistent heat.

d.a.m.n.

Now wasn't the time to remember that glimpse of pale skin when her robe gaped, the curve of her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s or the knowledge that she slept with satin next to her skin. He needed to concentrate on the purpose, of his visit. He leaned over the back of the couch and kissed his sister's proffered cheek.

"We were talking aboutOwen's estate," she explained. "Emily says you think she should have appealed."

"I think she should fight harder for her rights ... in some instances." He tilted his head toward the kitchen.

"Shouldn't you be making dinner?"

"Nope. Emily's cooking."

He fixed his sister with a meaningful look and her eyes widened in acknowledgment, her lips forming an okay as she rose to her feet. "I do have to get you a drink, though."

"Make it a long one."

She winked as she walked by, leaned down to turn on the stereoso she couldn't inadvertently eavesdrop and then left them alone. Sometimes his littlest sister was okay. Although...

"Marriage hasn't improved her taste in music," he said as a popular boy-band crooned from the speakers. He crossed the room and turned the volume down a couple of notches before asking, "Have you heard from Bob Foley?"

The hotel owner had been taken aback by Mitch's visit but most helpful. A high-media profile not to mention a lawyer sister garnered respect.

Emily looked up, surprised, then not. "I wondered why he rang."

"I a.s.sume he rang to apologize."

"I now a.s.sume he rang because you told him to." She did not sound happy about his intervention. He didn't care.

"Isuggested he show a little faith in his staff."

She exhaled softly, the breath lifting a loose strand of her white-blond hair. "He apologized rather nicely."

"And I didn't?"

h.e.l.l. Mitch raked a hand through his hair. Two minutes alone and they were on the brink of another clash. He could all but hear the crackle of tension in the air, and he didn't need to ask if she got his point. The past swirled, dark with shadowy secrets, in her eyes.

"You had no need to apologize." Her voice sounded about as tight as her pale-knuckled grip on the

empty gla.s.s. "I told you nothing happened."

"h.e.l.l, Emily, you were in my bed, and I can't remember anything after kissing you. If that's all that happened-"

"It is." She put the gla.s.s down with a decisive clunk. "You were drunk and grieving and, yes, you kissed

me, and we somehow ended up in your bed. You pa.s.sed out and that's all that happened."

The rushed telling brought a flush to her face, the same sweet, pink color he'd seen all over her body that next morning. "We also, somehow, ended up naked," he pointed out.

The color in her cheeks flared, hotter, darker, but she met his eyes. "You didn't have a clue what youwere doing. Or who with." "I knew who I was with, Emily," he said emphatically. "Now I need to know what I did." "Nothing, Mitch." Temper sparked in her eyes, charging Mitch with the same fiery frustration.

"It's not 'nothing' if it sent you packing and if it's still preventing you taking your job back. d.a.m.n it, Emily, I've given you the freedom to name your price and conditions. I've given you thinking time. Joshua loves you and I'm pretty sure you feel the same way. If it's not me if it's not about that night then what's the problem?"

With the music suddenly shut down, that last question sounded far too loud, aggressive,abrasive .

Obviously, his sister thought so, too, because from beside the stereo she insisted, "Stop bullying her." "b.u.t.t out, Chantal." His focus switched back to Emily, needingher response,her answer. "Tell me whyyou won't come and work for me."

"How about because you're obnoxious," Chantal said, putting herself between them, arms folded, expression determined.

"She needs a job, sis."

"We're working on that."

Everything inside him ground to a halt. "Care to explain?"

"Good grief, Mitch, you can't force Emily to work for you. And when she makes up her mind which won't be with you standing over her it will be because she has choices. Now, was there anything else you wanted?" his sister, the turncoat, asked sweetly. "Besides the chance to browbeat my houseguest?"

Seething, Mitch gritted his teeth. "If it's still all right with your houseguest, I'd like to buy her grandfather's dog for Joshua." * * *

Through an agency inCliffton , Mitch found temporary child care in the form of a middle-aged cleanliness guru with the unlikely name of Mrs. Grubb. More interested in keeping the house free of dust and lint than keeping Joshua entertained and happy, she wasn't working out.

As if to punctuate that thought, her vacuum cleaner started up, its high-pitched whine eating through the last of his concentration.Earm.u.f.fs, industrial strength . He started a mental shopping list,then wondered if Mrs. Grubb did shopping. It would get her out of the house, even if it did defeat the child care purpose of her employment, because he was not, no way, sending Joshua to any shopping center.

The machine's whine intensified as his office door opened, then ebbed as it clicked shut. Joshua rested his chin on the edge of the desk and looked up at him with serious eyes. "Is it 'kayto ask one question?"

"Only one?" Mitch ruffled his hair. "Spit it out, bud."

"Is it time for Digger's walk yet?"

"Not quite." He swung back to the desk and right-clicked on the computer clock. "When the bighand's up here, see? You can check on the kitchen clock. Okay?"

Joshua sighed heavily. "'Kay, Daddy."

That despondent little voice, the sound of his retreating footsteps,the restrained thud of the closing door they all combined to knock the stuffing right out of Mitch. A numbing sense of acceptance rose up to fill the void. Emily wasn't changing her mind. For over a week he'd kept his distance, working while he could, making do with this temporary excuse for a nanny, waiting for any sign of Em's att.i.tude mellowing.

It hadn't; it wouldn't. Because no matter how many times she denied it, how many times she used that nothing word, she couldn't hide the tumult in her eyes. He had slept with her. He'd shattered her trust in him as a boss and as a man, and his ham-fisted attempt to force the full story from her hadn't done his cause any favors.

He'd blown it.

Now he needed to contact some decent agencies and start the nanny hunt all over again. Since his current chapter wasn't going anywhere two pathetic paragraphs since lunch he clicked online and searched for the Yellow Pages.

Fifteen minutes later he'd set the wheels in motion, but the consequences grated as harshly as the incessant howl of the b.l.o.o.d.y vacuum cleaner. Another nanny who wasn't Emily. It felt ... wrong.

With a soft oath, he spun his chair away from the desk and took his frustration to the kitchen. While he waited for coffee to brew, he grabbed a fruit box from the fridge and went searching for the son who made his world seem more right. The rumpus room was empty and he combed the rest of the house resisting the impulse to check inside Mrs. Grubb's cleaner and came up Joshua-less.

Recalling his question about walking Digger, Mitch checked the kitchen clock. Ten to four. His mild irritation morphed to annoyance as he headed outside. Joshua knew he had to ask before going outdoors. It was a rule. But that's where he'd be, playing with his new best friend.

He wasn't in the yard. Worry churning his gut, Mitch strode back inside, flicked the off switch on the machine-from-h.e.l.l and faced down Mrs. Grubb's indignation. "Have you seen Joshua?"

"Why, he's in the rumpus room, watchingtele -"

Mitch didn't wait around. He was back outside, calling out to Joshua, whistling for Digger. Why hadn't he thought of that before? Find the dog and he would find Joshua.

Nothing.

His heart pounded.Think, Mitch, think.

Emily. All day Joshua had harped about showing her Digger's latest trick, and that's what the four-o'clock walk was all about. Going to see Emily. His panic steadied. With five, ten minutes head start he'd be still on the road. A quiet road, he reminded the sudden jitter in his pulse. Only local traffic to a handful of farms.

Grabbing his cell phone, he strode to his truck, fired the engine and turned down the drive. The road was empty, no traffic,no boy. Resisting the urge to drive fast, he scanned the roadside thoroughly, across the long-gra.s.sed paddocks either side. No fair-haired boy, no dog, no sign of activity except a soaring hawk intent on some ground prey.

Phone in hand, he dialed Chantal's number, impatiently waited six rings before Emily's quiet h.e.l.lo. Thank G.o.d, someone was home.

"Is Joshua there?"

A beat of pause. "No. Should he be?"

"He's missing. I thought he headed down to see you. Can you check outside?"

Barely breathing, he awaited her reply, all the while steadily surveying the landscape for any sign of boy or dog. His whole body tightened with expectation, fear,hope when he heard the clunk of the phone being lifted.

"I'm sorry, Mitch. I'll start walking back from my end across the paddocks. Don't worry, that's where he'll be, somewhere between the two houses."

Mitch nodded, unable to speak, unable to see beyond the awful, poundingrevisitation of his worst nightmare.

His son was lost.

Chapter 4.

They tramped the thickly gra.s.sed fields between Mitch's and Chantal's homes, calling, whistling,receiving no reply save the distant caw of a lone crow. Emily's stomach churned, sick with panicky fear. The urge to run, to scream Joshua's name, clawed at her composure. Guilt clawed at her conscience.

He'd been bringing Digger to visit. If she'd taken the job, or even taken the time to visit... If she'd not been so selfishly absorbed in her own fears...

"Mitch!"

Startled by that distant call, Emily swung around to see a familiar farm truck barrel to a stop right beside Mitch.Quade swung from the cab, followed by bothAndersonbrothers from down the road.

One look at the men's faces shattered her sharp spike of hope. They weren't delivering good news, but they were more than doubling the feet and eyes in the search. Perhaps now the fields would not seem so endless, the horizons so far, night so near. Especially now that real numbers were on the way.

"We should wait here for the Rescue Squad, plan our-"

"You can wait." Mitch interruptedQuade's suggestion, his gaze fixed on the forest to the east. The Tibaroo Nature Reserve. Haven to rabbits and hares and wildlife. Heaven to a terrier-cross with an instinctive nose for pursuit.