Her gaze flicked to his, fired for an instant, then cooled off again until those beautiful blue eyes of hers shone like the surface of a frozen lake. “No. No problem.”
“Good,” he said. “So I’ll call the employment agency and have them send people over. Are you interested in interviewing them or would you prefer I do it?”
She looked torn and he was forced to admit silently that he felt the same way. Funny, this conversation about hiring a nanny didn’t have anything to do with his plan. It had only seemed like a reasonable way for him to open communications with Tula again. Besides, theoretically, a caretaker for Nathan had sounded accept able enough.
In practice though…looking down at his son—innocent, helpless, at the mercy of whoever his father hired to look after him…it felt wrong, somehow. Instantly, half-forgotten news reports flashed through his mind, stories about nannies and babysitters and pre-schools, all of whom were supposedly devoted care-givers. And how the children in their charge had paid the price for their negligence or apathy.
Frowning, Simon told himself this situation would be different. He would have the nanny he hired screened completely. He wouldn’t trust just anyone with his son’s safety.
But the scowl on his face deepened as he realized that the only person he really trusted with Nathan’s well-being was the woman beside him. The very woman who he already knew to be a liar. She hadn’t told him the truth about who she was, so why should he trust her?
But he did. Instinctively, he knew he could trust Tula with his son. But she was also the woman who would be leaving someday soon.
The woman he was planning on using for his own taste of revenge.
Tula thanked the woman for coming and once she’d seen her out, closed the door and leaned back against it. A sigh of defeat slid from her throat.
That was the third prospective nanny she had interviewed in the last two days and she hadn’t liked any of them.
“What was wrong with that one?”
Startled, she looked up at Simon, leaning against the newel post of the banister. His eyes were amused and his mouth was curved at one end as if he were trying to hide a smile that hadn’t quite made it to his features.
“What’re you doing here?” He had the most disconcerting habit of sneaking up on a person. And this new habit of his, splintering the routine he had clung to when she first came to the city, was even more disquieting. He was up to something, she figured. She just didn’t know what. Which just put her that much more on guard.
He tossed his suit jacket over the newel post and loosened his red silk tie. “I live here, as I’ve pointed out before.”
“Yes, but it’s the middle of the afternoon. On a workday. Are you sick?”
He chuckled. “No, I’m not sick. I just left the office early. No big deal. Now, what was wrong with the woman you just sent packing?”
Still wary, she asked, “Didn’t you see the bun she was wearing?”
“Bun?”
She saw the confusion on his face and explained. “Her hair. It was pulled into a taut little knot at the back of her head.”
“So? An unattractive hairstyle makes for a bad nanny?”
It sounded silly when he said it, but Tula was going with her instincts. Nathan was too important to take any chances with his safety and happiness. She would find the right nanny for him or she just wouldn’t leave.
Unless, she thought, that’s exactly what she was subconsciously hoping for. That she could stay. That she could be the one raising Nathan, loving him. A worry for another day, she supposed.
“The woman’s hair was scraped so tightly, her eyelids were tilted back. Anyone that rigid shouldn’t be in charge of a child.”
“Ah,” he said as though he understood, but she knew he didn’t. He was patronizing her.
“So the one yesterday afternoon, with her hair long and loose and curling…?”
She scowled at him. “Too careless. If she doesn’t care what her hair looks like, she won’t care enough about Nathan.”
“And the first one?”
“She had mean eyes,” Tula said with no apologies. She just knew that woman was the kind who made children sit in dark closets or go to bed without dinner. She would never leave Nathan with a cold-eyed woman.
Simon’s eyebrow lifted again. She was getting to the point where she could judge his moods by the tilt of that eyebrow alone. Right now, she told herself with an inner grumble, he was entertained. By her.
Perhaps he had a point. Tula knew what she was doing wasn’t fair to the women who had come looking for a job. Except for the mean-eyed one, they seemed nice enough. Certainly qualified. The agency Simon was dealing with was the top one in the city, known for representing the absolute best in nannies.
But how could she be expected to turn over a little boy she loved to a stranger?
He was still watching her with just the barest hint of amusement on his face. An expression she found way too attractive for her own well-being.
“All right,” she conceded grudgingly, “maybe I’m being a little too careful in the selection process.”
“Maybe?”
She ignored that. Because even if she was being overprotective, it wouldn’t hurt that baby any. It would only help ensure that the best possible person would be in charge of him. And if anything, as the baby’s father, Simon should appreciate that.
“This is important, Simon. No one knows better than I do just how much the people in a child’s life can impact their character. The way they look at the world. The way they think of themselves.”
She caught herself when she realized that she was headed in a verbal direction she had had no intention of going.
“Speaking from experience,” he mused and she knew he was remembering the story she’d told him about the bunny she had once tried to befriend. And about her mother’s less than maternal attitude toward her.
“Is that so surprising?” she countered. “Doesn’t everyone have some sort of issue with their parents? Even the best of them make mistakes, right?”
“True,” he acknowledged, but his gaze never left hers. She felt as if he were trying to see inside her mind. To read her thoughts and display all of her secrets.
As if to prove her right, he spoke again.
“Who had that impact on you, Tula?” he asked, voice quiet. “Was it just your mom?”
“This isn’t about me,” she told him, refusing to be drawn into the very discussion she had unwittingly initiated.