Helping children become emotionally healthy was something she was good at. Taming a grown-up adult was way out of her league.
"I'm not sure…." She began hastily.
"I am sure." He countered. "You will teach him respect."
It was on the tip of Lucia's tongue to tell him that respect was earned not taught, but she didn't think he would want to hear that.
Mr. Walter tapped the pen irritably on the table.
"He is smart, he is clever. He could do well if he wanted to. But he has to take over the company. I don't want my enemies to be too tough a competition for him."
"I can't teach him anything about your business, Mr. Walter."
"I'll teach him that!" He said emphatically. "You teach him how to listen, to do what I say!"
To respect, she said quietly in her mind…
"You can go now."
Just like his son, he had a way of ending things. Lucia got to her feet and started for the door.
"Miss Lucia?"
"And you start with no more kisses, understood?"
* * *
Damon rolled over on his bed and pushed back the cover, watching Lucia return from his father's chambers. How in heaven's name did he mistake her for one of Stella Dollies' escorts?
With her pony-tailed hair and white chiffon shirt, she looked like a high school cheerleader.
He waited, watched her, and wondered If she would let him have another kiss soon.
From the look on her face, he was sure she wanted it.
Who was the real Lucia under that hard and school-girl facade? Whoever she was, he would find out.
He hadn't been lying about his headache. It was better now, but he wasn't getting up to look for her.
If she wanted to talk to him, she would come in here. He folded his arms under his head and waited.
He didn't have to wait long, in a moment there was a tap on the door.
"Come to share my bed?" He asked her.
"Not now," she said.
He blinked and cleaned his ears with his fingers. Was he hearing well, not now?
But she didn't even seem to be thinking about that. She came just inside the door and said, "There's not much love lost between you, is there? Like you and your dad?
“Not much," Damon agreed. Did he spell it all out to you? His demands and my bad behavior?"
She hesitated.
"He... dropped some hints. I'll fill you in if you'd like." She rubbed her forehead.
"No, thanks"
"You are just too stubborn."
"I could save us both some headache if you'd just drive me to the airport."
"I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"I don't think that's in the contract."
"Screw the fucking contract," Damon said sharply, "If I wasn't part of the accident, I'd be outta here by now."
"And give up your inheritance? Your family business?"
He frowned. "What the hell do you mean by that?"
Damon wondered what the old man had told her.
"If you don't take it seriously..."
"Let it, then!" Damon exploded.
"He doesn't want it to. He wants you to take over."
"But he won't let me."
"He will if…"
"I do it his way? No thanks."
"According to him, you need to understand how the business works."
"I know how businesses work!"
"Then prove it," she suggested mildly, "by listening to him and showing him."
"Why the hell doesn't he listen to me?"
"I don't know," she said calmly. "I'll ask him some…"
Damon muttered again. "Don't bother!" He gave a dismissive wave of his hand, but she didn't move.
"What are you waiting for?" He demanded gruffly.
"Another invitation?" He patted the sheet next to him and was pleased to see the color on her face deepen.
"I'll be in the kitchen if you want me," she said, and fled, pulling the door shut behind her.
"I don't want you, sweetheart," Damon said, but his harsh voice was only loud enough for his own ears.
"Unless it's in my bed."
A vision of Lucia's slender curves and nakedness floated in his mind.
Out of her proper clothes and with her long hair unbound, she would be something! Better than the schoolgirl she looked like now.
Oh God!
Was he crazy? He was fantasizing about a nanny!
His nanny! It was almost kinky.
It had obviously been too damn long since he'd had a woman in his arms.
Lucia had made a career of coping with
children in trauma. She was used to coming into their lives at moments of crisis when a parent died or a marriage shattered or a long string of broken promises left them without trust or hope.
Lucia was a master at putting them together again. She gave them hope and taught them to trust themselves first and not to judge others.
It was hard work. It was more than hard work, it was exhausting, but it was ever so rewarding to know she'd made a difference.
She'd believed she could make just such a difference to Damon Walter when she'd believed he was four!
And now?
Well, he certainly wasn't four, and the trauma, whatever it was, went a lot deeper. But that didn't make him any less needy.
She could almost see the need crying
out from deep inside him. Oh, yes! That's definitely what you're interested in. she jeered at herself.
Well, okay. She wasn't only interested in his pain and his miserable childhood. She was also interested in Damon as a man.
But the man was a product of his upbringing, wasn't he? And it was her job to deal with that.
She knew without giving it a thought what his reaction would be. Forget it. She was sure he'd said it plenty of times.
'I don't need that son of a bitch!' She could almost hear him say those words, too.
But why?
What had happened between Damon and his father to bring them to this?
The folder Mr. Walter had given her sat on the desk in her bedroom. She had put it there the moment she'd returned. She hadn't picked it up. She didn't want to pick it up.
She wanted to get to know Damon for herself.
And then what? put the family back together again. Of course.
And?
And nothing, she told herself sharply. She was doing her job and that was all.
And what about the kiss? What about the euphoria? Was it just a useless act?
Does she even need to think about this?
Her phone rang at three A.m Lucia was startled out of her restless sleep, she wasn't even sure where she was for a moment. When she finally remembered, it wasn't an improvement.
Was Mr. Walter doing a bed check? she wondered.
She groped for the phone on her bedside table. But when she picked it up, she discovered that Damon was already on the line.
And so was a soft-voiced woman with a British accent. "Ah, Damon," she said, "I got you up."
"Again," Lucia heard Damon growl sleepily. "You never let me get a full night's sleep, Lisa."
The woman on the other end of the line giggled.
Hastily Lucia slammed the phone down. She shouldn't have been surprised. She wasn't surprised. Annoying was more like it. Annoyed because she'd been awakened.
Why the heck could she listen to his conversations, was it a special technology she didn't know about?
She wasn't annoyed because he had another woman! Lucia rolled over and punched her pillow, then settled her head down again. She didn't care. She had no reason to care.
Only the memory of his kiss. And that incredible euphoria.
In the early hours of the morning, she hard-boiled his egg and burned his toast. Now, she had to start over with both before she got them the way she always fixed them. And then she carried them on a tray
to his bedroom and tapped on the door.
If he'd been four, she'd have walked in.
She wasn't walking in on this Damon Walter.
"Come in," he growled.
She pushed the door open and pasted a bright good morning smile on her face. A good thing, too, because if she'd waited to try to do it until she'd actually confronted him, ruffled and sleepy, sprawled in his bed with the sheet barely pulled over the most private parts of him, she doubted if she could have made her muscles work.
As it was, she managed to swallow and that was about it.
"Come to cuddle?" he drawled and gave her what was undoubtedly one of his best playboy auras.
She remembered Thomas saying he liked to tease and she knew that she was at the edge of this particular joke.
She wondered what he would do if she said yes!
Not that she was going to! she reminded herself smartly. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.
Who was to say she was immune?
It was enough to know that whatever spark had existed between her and Damon Walter, had lasted to live another day.
It was not what she bargained for.
"I've brought you breakfast," she said, crossing the room and setting the tray on the table.
He stared at it. "Boiled egg and toast fingers?" He sounded excited.
"I can fix oatmeal if you'd like. Being a nanny entails fixing breakfast?"
"Generally, yes. Especially since we're, um... on our own down here." She wasn't sure she wanted to call attention to that, but since it was obvious, she didn't suppose it made any difference.
"Help me tie my shoes?"
"I do whatever needs to be done," Lucia said.
A grin slashed across Damon's dark features. "Ouch." But he shoved himself up further to get in position to collect the tray.
The duvet covering him slipped another inch and his bulge was very clear, and as she shifted her eyes went in that direction.
The look Damon gave her was silently amusing.
She prayed he wouldn't comment, although It was one thing to acknowledge 'euphoria', It was another thing to want to rip the covers off him and study his naked form!
Just how she knew he was naked under that duvet, she didn't want to think. She couldn't recall ever thinking about Ward's state of dress or undress, even when she'd brought him breakfast in bed during his occasional weekend visits.
"No coffee?" Damon asked hopefully as she set the tray on his lap. "Or am I getting cocoa instead?"
"...I'll get you a cup of coffee," Lucia said quickly. He nodded his head as he ate the food hungrily.
"Anything else?"
He raised one dark brow. "You?"
She fled.
***
With her hair pulled back into a ponytail and no makeup on her face, Lucia was naturally beautiful.
When she carried that boiled egg and those ridiculous toast fingers into his room, at least she was dressed more informally in a short nightwear that exposed her cleavage.
To match her rose-colored glasses. Damon thought as he picked up his fork and poked at the egg. He hadn't had a boiled egg in years. His mother was the last person to ever make him a boiled egg, and he thought he must have been about ten at the time.
He felt about ten right now. Stubborn and cranky and up to no good.
He stabbed the egg and his stomach growled.
Damn it.
He gritted his teeth, feeling betrayed by his body as well as by everything else. He set down the fork. Glared at the egg. Glared at the toast.
Glared at the door through which Lucia had departed.
His stomach growled again. Reluctantly, irritably, he picked up his fork and took a bite.
The egg was good. The toast was crispy and golden, lightly buttered. Perfection. Hell! He ate them both in moments.
His only solace was that Lucia Stone appeared equally astonished at the empty tray when she came back with the coffee.
"Would you like another?" she asked. "I didn't give you very much. I'm used to cooking for smaller meals."
He was tempted to say something smart, but she hadn't spoken mockingly, so he didn't either.
The egg and toast had hit the spot. His father's cook, Helen, who had sent down meals, did an excellent job, but she tended to make exotic things that very pregnant women had cravings for and their very wealthy husbands felt inclined to indulge.
Damon didn't mind the meals she sent down, it was better than having to fix his own, but there was something oddly comforting about the stupid boiled egg and toast.
It was a nice thing to eat when you felt like hell. He felt like hell. He hadn't slept much last night. Being thwarted never did much for his ability to get a good night's sleep.
And his father's latest trick had made him fume and toss and turn for hours. And just when he'd finally got to sleep Lisa had called. He'd spent an hour on the phone with her.
And after that, he wasn't able to sleep anymore. Consequently, his headache, which on normal days stayed pretty controllable, was already nagging at his temples. He couldn't do much about it. But his stomach was another matter.
"I wouldn't mind another egg," he begged now.
"Or two?" Lucia asked.
He hesitated. Then, "Two," he agreed gruffly. "And some more toast," he added as she turned back toward the kitchen.
"I would have expected you to do toy soldier toast actually," he gibed.
"I do," she said, "for good little boys."
He stuck out his tongue at her.
She laughed.
Her whole face lit up when she laughed. Her blue eyes sparkled and the few freckles on her cheeks seemed almost to dance, and her mouth looked more kissable than ever. Damon felt a very strong urge to do just that. And he would, the next time she got close enough.
"Two pieces of toast," he answered her. "Please."
The word came out unbidden, though it didn't surprise him. He was generally more polite than he'd been to Lucia. Not that she didn't deserve a little shortness, as an agent of his father's misplaced behavior modification program!
Haha!