Accidental Nanny
NANNY WANTED Outback Cattle Station - Father and Daughter in Need of Love How could Chessie prove to Raefe Stevenson that she wasn't spoiled? The handsome Outback cattle rancher needed a nanny for her small daughter, Jess, and suddenly Chessie saw her chance… .It was a daring thing to do, but Jess soon accepted Chessie as her new nanny, and Raefe had no choice but to keep Chessie on. In fact, she fitted so perfectly that Raefe suggested he become his wife!
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“Vices?” Raefe said scornfully.Letter to ReaderTitle PageCHAPTER ONECHAPTER TWOCHAPTER THREECHAPTER FOURCHAPTER FIVECHAPTER SIXCHAPTER SEVENCHAPTER EIGHTCHAPTER NINECHAPTER TENCopyright
“Vices?” Raefe said scornfully.
“And what would you describe this as?” he continued. “Aboveboard and openhanded? Honest? To change your name and masquerade as someone you’re not in order to worm your way into a household where you know damn well you’re the last person who would be wanted?” The gray of Raefe’s eyes resembled cold steel as he added, “And that brings us to why you did it.”
The awkward question, of course, Francesca acknowledged, and paused before answering. It proved to be a fatal mistake.
Dear Reader,
A perfect nanny can be tough to find, but once you’ve found her, you’ll love and treasure her forever. She’s someone who’ll not only look after the kids but could also be the loving mom they never knew. Or sometimes she’s a he and is the daddy they are wishing for.
Here at Harlequin Presents® we’ve put together a compelling new series, NANNY WANTED!, in which some of our most popular authors create nannies whose talents extend way beyond taking care of the children! Each story will excite and delight you and make you wonder how any family could be complete without a nineties nanny.
Remember—nanny knows best when it comes to falling in love!
The Editors
Look out next month for.
A Daughter for Christmas
by Cathy Williams (#1993)
CHAPTER ONE
SHE was about five feet six and in her early twenties, he judged, with a fine carriage that displayed a slender neck, straight shoulders and breasts that bounced beneath the yellow silk of her shirt like tantalising fruit as she jumped out of a dusty Land Rover. Her waist was small, her hips compact, her legs, in blue jeans, long. She also had an imperious air and glorious toffee-coloured hair. Then she spoke, and there was absolute assurance in her cultured vowels—the inborn ease of someone who had been used to having all and sundry do her bidding from her cradle...
Raefe Stevensen narrowed his eyes then raised a wry eyebrow. So it’s true, he mused. She has been up on Wirra. He paused and watched the girl toss her head as she spoke to the man who had driven her. I can guess why she’s here—and expecting me to drop everything, no doubt. He watched a moment longer, then deliberately reached for the telephone.
Francesca Valentine jumped down from a battered Land Rover and looked around intently. There was not a lot to see—one prefabricated building, a hangar, one runway with a limp airsock, two light planes and a helicopter parked on the apron. Her deep blue eyes brightened at the sight of the aircraft, however, and she turned to the driver of the Land Rover, flicking her toffee-coloured hair back. ‘This’ll do, Jim. You don’t need to wait around. You’ll be wanting to get back to the station before the road is flooded anyway.’
‘Well...’ The driver, a dusty, middle-aged man, hesitated. ‘I don’t like to leave you, Miss Valentine. Your father—’
‘Jim, so long as there are planes, I can get myself flown out.’
‘But just in case you can’t,’ Jim persisted. ‘This is a very small town, Miss Valentine. There’s only one pub where you could stay and you wouldn’t—well, it’s not what you’re used to. Cattlemen, drovers, truckies and the like,’ he added with deep significance. ‘Your father—’
‘If you mention my father once again, Jim, I’ll scream. It was his idea that I spend some time on Wirra Station; therefore, even if indirectly, it’s his fault that I’m all but stranded here!’
‘He couldn’t have organised this flood,’ Jim replied reasonably. ‘And it wasn’t his fault the chopper conked out on us at a time like this.’
‘Don’t you believe it,’ Francesca said darkly, but added, ‘Look, surely it’s easier for you not to have me to worry about on top of everything else? I mean, you’re going to have enough on your plate as it is, what with moving stock around let alone yourselves if the waters get up to the homestead.’
Jim sighed and said cautiously, ‘We could be cut off for weeks, I guess.’
‘Exactly! The other thing is, once I get home, I can pull all sorts of strings towards getting you parts flown up to repair the helicopter,’ Francesca finished triumphantly.
‘OK, Miss Valentine, if you say so,’ Jim relented suddenly, and got out to heave her bag off the back seat. ‘I’ll just carry this to the office for you.’
‘I can do it.’ Francesca wrested her bag from him and held out her hand. ‘Goodbye, Jim. I do appreciate your concern, and I hope I wasn’t too much of a... time-waster for you. I shall certainly report back that Wirra is in good hands.’
‘Cheerio, Miss Valentine. As for being a time-waster—well, I doubt if those lads have enjoyed themselves as much for years once they got used to...certain things, so don’t you worry your pretty head about it.’ As he shook her hand vigorously he appraised not only her pretty head but also her shapely figure with a genuine and kindly appreciation that gave no offence. ‘You’re a right card at times, Miss Valentine,’ he added. ‘A real chip off the old block—and it’s been a pleasure.’
