Praise for Susan Meier
âMeierâs characters are realistic and likable
in this great story about dealing with lifeâs blows.â âRT Book Reviews on Nanny for the Millionaireâs Twins
âThe strong attraction between Shannon and Rory,
of caution and mixed with the perfect blend of caution and hesitation, makes their relationship really sizzle.â âRT Book Reviews on Kisses on her Christmas List
âNanny for the Millionaireâs Twins packs in a power house of emotions, itâs heartbreaking yet truly heartwarming.â? âHarlequin Junkie on Nanny for the Millionaireâs Twins
She walked into the kitchen. âWhatâs this?â
Everybody froze at the sound of her voice.
Wyatt said, âWhat did we practise?â
All three kids shouted, âHappy Motherâs Day.â
Owen raced over and caught her around the knees, hugging for all he was worth. Claire bounced off the stepstool and ran over too.
Lainie danced to the flowers. âThese are yours.â
Her heart stuttered. Tears pricked her eyelids. She pressed her fingers to her lips and swallowed. Four Motherâs Days had come and gone with no recognition, and truth be told sheâd been too busy to notice. If anything, she mourned her mom on Motherâs Day.
How could a man who thought to help her kids get her flowers for Motherâs Day, a man who was making her breakfast which she could smell was now burning, think he wasnât nice?
She peeked over at Wyatt. âThanks.â
Flipping scrambled eggs which smoked when he shifted them, he said, âIt was nothing.â
It was everything. But she couldnât tell him that.
SUSAN MEIER spent most of her twenties thinking she was a job-hopperâuntil she began to write and realised everything that had come before was only research! One of eleven children, with twenty-four nieces and nephews and three kids of her own, Susan has had plenty of real-life experience watching romance blossom in unexpected ways. She lives in western Pennsylvania with her wonderful husband, Mike, three children, and two over-fed, well-cuddled cats, Sophie and Fluffy. You can visit Susanâs website at: www.susanmeier.com
For the real Owen, Helaina and Claireâ¦
Thanks for being so adorable I had to write about you.
THE BEST PART OF BEING rich was, of course, the toys. There wasnât anything Wyatt McKenzie wanted that he didnât have.
Gliding along the winding road that led to Newland, Maryland, on a warm April morning, he revved the engine of his big black motorcycle and grinned. He loved the toys.
The second best thing about being rich was the power. Not that he could start a war, or control the lives of the people who depended upon him for work and incomes. The power he loved was the power he had over his own schedule.
Take right now, for instance. His grandmother had died the month before, and it was time to clear out her house for sale. The family could have hired someone, but Grandma McKenzie had a habit of squirreling away cash and hiding jewelry. When none of her family heirloom jewelry was found in her Florida town house, Wyattâs mother believed it was still in her house in Maryland. And Wyatt had volunteered to make the thousand-mile trip back âhomeâ to search her house.
His mother could have come. Sheâd actually know more about what she was looking for. But his divorce had become final the week before. After four years fighting over money, his now ex-wife had agreed to settle for thirty percent interest in his company.
His company. Sheâd cheated on him. Lied to him. Tried to undermine his authority. And she got thirty percent of everything heâd worked for? It wasnât right.
But it also hurt. Theyâd been married for four years before the trouble started. Heâd thought she was happy.
He needed some time to get over his anger with her and the hurt, so he could get on with the rest of his life. Looking for jewelry a thousand miles away was as good an excuse as any to take a break, relax and forget about the past.
So heâd given himself an entire month vacation simply by telling his assistant he was leaving and wouldnât be back for four weeks. He didnât have to remind Arnie that his gram had died. He didnât have to say his divorce was final. He didnât have to make any excuse or give any reason at all. He just said, âIâm going. See you next month.â
He revved the engine again as he swung the bike off the highway and onto the exit ramp for Newland, the town heâd grown up in. After buying the company that published his graphic novels, heâd moved his whole family to Florida to enjoy life in the sun. His parents had made trips home. Gram had spent entire summers here. But Wyatt hadnât even been home for a visit in fifteen long years. Now, he was back. A changed man. A rich man. Not the geeky kid everybody âlikedâ but sort of made fun of. Not the skinny nerd who never got picked for the team in gym class. But a six-foot-one, two-hundred-pound guy who not only worked out, heâd also turned his geekiness into a fortune.