LITMIR.BIZ

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He shrugged. “Would you like some coffee or a cold drink, Miss Bennett?”

      “A glass of water would be nice.”

      His slow smile creased his cheeks with unexpected dimples. “I think we can do better than that,” he said, indicating the open French doors on the other side of the room. “I’ll have Janet bring something to you on the patio.”

      The view outside stole Nicole’s breath away. Perched on a bluff, the house flowed down to the beach in a series of terraces connected by brick-paved paths. A curved flight of steps similar to those at the front door gave way to a swimming pool set in a natural rock depression. To either side, flower beds edged an expanse of closely trimmed lawn. Below, the great spread of the ocean reflected the cloudless blue sky.

      From a walkway covered by a vine-draped pergola, Janet appeared, a loaded tray in her hands. “Lovely sight, isn’t it?” she remarked, setting the tray on an umbrella-shaded table and coming to stand beside Nicole. “A body can just feel the peace soaking into her bones.”

      Nicole couldn’t. Her entire body was suffused with pain. God might seem to be in His heaven but, appearances to the contrary, things were far from right in her world. The beauty and tranquillity were an affront.

      Janet turned away to pour liquid from a frosty pitcher into a tall, stemmed glass. “How did the interview go?”

      “I’m not sure. I hope I get the job.”

      “Well, dear, I can tell you the Commander won’t bother keeping anyone around who doesn’t measure up. If he thought he was wasting his time with you, you’d be out the door by now. Try this lemonade. It’s the real thing, made from scratch.”

      “Thank you.”

      “And here’s a plate of biscuits—cookies, you call them—if you’d like something to eat while you wait.”

      Breakfast was a distant memory and dinner last night nonexistent, but the thought of food nauseated Nicole. Still, out of politeness, she nibbled at one of the cookies and said, “What I’d really like is to meet the little boy. Could you bring him out to see me, do you think?”

      She’d said the wrong thing again. Janet backed off as if she’d been indecently propositioned.

      “Oh, it’s not up to me to allow that, dear!” she exclaimed, her accent broadened by shock. “That’s something for the Commander to allow if he decides you’re best for the job.”

      But he’s my nephew and I need to see him, Nicole thought. I need to hold him, to smell the little boy scent of his hair, to kiss the soft sweet skin of his neck. I need to know that he doesn’t feel alone and abandoned.

      Janet straightened the bib of her apron and sighed. “I just hope he makes up his mind quickly. I don’t mind telling you, I’ve got my hands full trying to run the house and keep tabs on Tommy at the same time. He’s a good little boy, but at that age, you know, a child is only ever still when he’s asleep.”

      “Where is he now?”

      “Taking a nap. He does that most afternoons for about half an hour.” Janet touched Nicole’s arm sympathetically. “I’m sure the Commander will bring him down and introduce you, if he likes what he’s being told about you.”

      “Being told?”

      Janet leaned forward confidingly. “He was on the phone long distance when I took in his lemonade, and I just happened to overhear your name being mentioned.”

      Exhaustion and stress must be catching up with her, Nicole decided, stifling an untoward giggle at the thought of The Commander sipping lemonade. Wouldn’t a tot of rum be more his style? “Why do you call him the Commander?”

      “That’s his rank. He’s a Navy man, didn’t you know? Works designing warships now, of course, on account of his bad back and all, but it was a dreadful disappointment to him that he couldn’t remain on active service. He knew he wanted to go to sea from the time he was Tommy’s age. Learned to sail a dinghy before he turned eight and spent every spare minute hanging around the yacht basin. Knew the name and make of every boat there, built models of most of them, too. Then, as soon as he was old enough, he was off to the Naval Academy and after that, it was glory all the way. Quite the local hero, you might say.”

      She leaned close again, as though what she was about to impart was a well guarded secret revealed only to a chosen few. “You should see all his medals. He was in the Gulf War, you know—that’s when he was injured, rescuing one of his men in an explosion on the bridge—and decorated for bravery, or however they call it.”

      “Why don’t you tell her my shoe size while you’re at it, Janet?” the object of all this admiration remarked, strolling out through the French doors and smiling at the housekeeper. His eyes, Nicole thought, were even bluer than the sky and his smile dazzling.

      “Oh, Commander!” Janet exclaimed, blushing like a girl. “I didn’t hear you come out.”

      “So I gather.” Sobering, he switched his gaze to Nicole. “Bring your lemonade inside and let’s talk some more, Miss Bennett.”

      Did he ever say “please” or “thank you,” or was he so used to dishing out orders that it never occurred to him to remember his manners?

      “Why didn’t you tell me you’d worked at The Mayo Clinic?” he began, as soon as they were seated across the desk from each other again.

      She couldn’t help herself. The question was out before she could stop it. “That strikes you as relevant, does it?”

      He didn’t exactly smile at her impudence, but his eyes glimmered with amusement. “If you were in the Navy, Miss Bennett, I’d reprimand you for rank insubordination. As it is, I have to wonder what it is about this job that appeals to you. You must know you’re seriously overqualified for the position I’m trying to fill.”

      “On paper, perhaps,” she said, “but I need a change.”

      “How so?”

      Once again grief threatened to rise up and engulf her. To buy herself enough time to regain control, she paced to the French doors and stood with her back to him so that he couldn’t see the sudden shine of tears in her eyes. “Any nurse working in a critical care unit will tell you that professional burnout is common,” she said, fighting to subdue the quiver in her voice. “You might think we become inured to death, but we don’t. And when those touched by it are children, the stress factor is particularly severe.”

      She paused, hating the fact that she was about to add another lie to those she’d already told him. Deceit did not come easily and she wished she dared tell him the whole truth. But it was too soon. The risks were too great. “I felt it was time for me to take a break.”

      “I appreciate that, Miss Bennett, and I sympathize. But my first priority is my ward’s welfare and I wonder how ably you will meet his needs feeling as you do. He needs a great deal of emotional support right now. How well do you think you can supply that, considering your own admittedly fragile state?”

      “Just because I feel the need for a change doesn’t alter the fact that I love children,” she said, thankful to be on completely honest ground again. “And you may depend on me always to put your ward’s interests ahead of my own.”

      “I shall hold you to that.”

      She dared to look at him again then, hope surging within her breast. “Are you telling me I have the job?”

      “Not quite. Before we make that decision, I think you must meet Tom.”

      Yes! “That would be sensible,” she said soberly. “No point in reaching any decisions until we see how we get along.”

      As if there was any doubt that she wouldn’t adore him on sight!

      “I’ll get him,” the Commander said, stuffing her résumé and references

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