The Millionaires' Club: David, Clint & Travis. Kathie DeNoskyЧитать онлайн книгу.
doesn’t want to care for Autumn,” Marissa said as she rocked Autumn to sleep.
“Gertie knows as little about children as I do,” he replied, drying his hands and crossing the room to kneel down and stack logs in the kitchen fireplace. “She lives here, just across the road on the ranch. Several employees live in their own houses. She worked for my dad. She’s been here since long before I was born.” As soon as he had a fire blazing, he turned. “Give Autumn to me and I’ll hold her.”
“I thought you were headed for bed to catch up on sleep,” Marissa remarked, handing him the baby. David moved a few feet away to sit in a large leather chair, holding Autumn in the crook of his arm.
He shook his head. “Now that I know I can sleep, I’m not so tired. I want to get to know my nanny,” he said, and she smiled, hoping he had no clue how simple remarks like that could send her pulse galloping. He tilted his head to study her. When she had been sixteen years old, she thought he had the sexiest eyes she had ever seen. As she looked at him now, she still thought so. His sea-green eyes with thick, black lashes had always fascinated her.
“You said there’s no boyfriend. How do you spend your time?”
“With my family,” she replied. “I take care of my niece and nephews. I take care of my sisters and grandmother. I jog and swim. Just ordinary things. What about you, David?” she asked. “Didn’t you just get out of the air force?”
“Yep. Enough of that life,” he said, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankles.
“So now you’ll take care of the ranch,” she remarked, trying to keep her gaze from drifting down over him again.
“Not really. I’m taking some time, but eventually I’ll move to Houston and go to work in my dad’s oil company.”
Marissa regarded his air of worldliness and could easily imagine him in a big city. In spite of his boots and jeans, he seemed the type more suited to city life than country life. But maybe that image had been conjured up by pictures in the paper of him with some socialite beauty on his arm.
“Are you going to live in Royal all your life?” he asked. All afternoon and evening he had given her his full attention and she decided he was a good listener. Too good, because he was very easy to talk to.
“I hope to always live here. I like being close to my family.”
“So what’ll you do with your windfall fortune if this nanny job lasts more than a week or two? What do you want?”
She thought of multiple answers she could give him, but then she saw no reason to avoid the truth with David. Their lives were touching only briefly, and then they would go separate ways and never see each other again.
“I haven’t told my family, but I’d like to go to a sperm bank and have my own baby.”
A twinkle came into his green eyes. “There are cheaper and easier ways—and more exciting ones—than to go to a sperm bank.”
She laughed. “But other ways always mean getting involved with a man. I’ve done that and I don’t want to do it again.”
“I’m sorry that you got burned in that marriage.”
“Yes, I did. While Reed went through medical school, I worked all six years of our marriage. As soon as he could stand on his own, he was off with another woman. And I found out that he was cheating on me almost from the beginning. So I’m not interested in dating again.”
“You shouldn’t lump all guys in with your ex.”
“No. If I meet a real saint, I won’t lump him in with Reed.”
“A real saint is a pretty high standard,” David remarked, looking at her so intently she began to regret revealing her deepest, most private wish to him.
“Well, a saint is about all I’m interested in, and the sperm bank sounds like the happy solution. What about you? You’re still single.”
He shrugged. “Marriage isn’t for me. I didn’t grow up in a house where there were good role models. My mom died when I was very young and my dad hired people to take care of me. Then I acquired a lifestyle that definitely wasn’t for a married man. Nope, no marriage in my future.” He grinned. “But I do like to date.”
She smiled at him. “Well, I don’t see another marriage in my life.”
His gaze trailed over her. “I’d bet the ranch that you marry again.”
Her curiosity overwhelmed her. “Why do you say that, David? You hardly know me.”
“You’re too attractive to stay single.”
“Thanks, but loads of pretty women stay single. I think you date some of them.”
“True. But you look like the marrying kind. You love babies, for one thing. You like guys, for another.”
“I’m not touching that one. We really should keep things impersonal, sort of always on an employer-employee basis.”
His eyes gleamed. “I thought that when you arrived, but now I don’t know why we have to remain so businesslike. This may be a short-term employment.”
She shook her head. “There’s a good reason to keep our dealings with each other businesslike. I don’t want another relationship. No, impersonal is much better. So what are your hobbies, David?” she asked, growing hot beneath his blatant scrutiny and trying to get the conversation back to impersonal grounds, still too aware that he had just told her that she was attractive.
He smiled as if fully aware of her abrupt change in topic. “I like to jog and swim and ski and do calf roping and go dancing with pretty women. You like to go dancing, Marissa?”
“Yes, with a saint,” she replied, and his brow arched.
“A mere mortal won’t do? Dancing’s a pleasure. It doesn’t have to lead to binding entanglements.”
“You know the old adage about playing with fire,” she said.
“I think maybe you’re missing out on some enjoyment in life.”
“And you’re ready to fill in what’s missing?” she teased, unable to resist.
He grinned. “Saturday night. Let me take you dancing.”
“Whoa, cowboy! You’re going way to fast. Like you did this morning. No dancing Saturday night, thank you,” she replied, shaking her head but wanting to say yes instead. “David, I’ve been burned badly and I don’t want any kind of relationship.”
“I promise. Just a few hours of dancing. Think about it and I’ll ask you again later,” he said.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re very accustomed to getting what you want?”
“Sometimes,” he said, giving her a level look, and she wondered when he hadn’t gotten his way.
“For now, we’re better off if we keep this situation very businesslike,” she repeated firmly.
“Whatever keeps my nanny happy is fine with me.” He shifted, placing one foot on his other knee. “What do your parents do?”
“They have a ranch near here for abandoned and mistreated animals.”
“Wow! That’s charitable. Is it a nonprofit business?”
“Yes. They have someone who runs the ranch for them. Actually, a staff of people. My parents spend most of their time either lobbying in Washington or on the lecture circuit.”
“How did they get into saving animals?”
“Dad is a veterinarian. Also, he had some patents that caught on and that gave them the income to start the ranch. The ranch has taken most of their income. Because it’s nonprofit, it’s cost them a lot.”
“That’s