Code Name: Nanny (SEAL and Code Name #5)(5)

After that, he’d wrap his knee and take a short break, then start all over again.

He was so used to seeing the scars on his body that they might as well have been invisible. Even the memories had begun to blur, their grim details fading into a gray-green blur of jungle sky and blue-green water.

Followed by screaming pain.

But Gabe Morgan was an expert at pain. If a day went by without it, he worried that he was losing his edge. If a week went by, he started to feel bored.

Which was probably why he was so good at his current job.

But as he looked outside, he found himself remembering the nanny’s eyes when he’d turned in the shower. They were more gray than blue, more angry than afraid. Strange mix.

Strange woman.

He shook his head, irritated. Summer Mulvaney had great legs—or she would have without that bland blue skirt covering them down to the knees. Not that he would get a chance to see her legs or any other interesting parts of her body up close.

A damned shame.

But Gabe didn’t have time to waste on irrelevant things like his emotions or the new hired help.

It was time to get back to work, he thought grimly.





[page]chapter 2

There she is.” Laughter rippled over the yard, and a small figure raced over the grass. “I told you she was here. She’s taking me to ballet class today.”

Pull yourself together, Summer told herself. How bad can two kids, math classes, and an illegal ferret be?

But had the little girl said something about a ballet class?

Forcing a smile, Summer crossed the grassy slope, glad she had taken time to straighten her dark suit and smooth her hair, as two pairs of eyes devoured her. But where the younger girl stared with infectious enthusiasm, her older sister responded with defiance.

“You must be Sophy.” Summer held out one hand as the slender nine-year-old stopped in a restless tangle of arms and legs. “I’m Summer Mulvaney.” The false name was close to her own and sounded natural enough, reinforced by several weeks of careful rehearsing. “Your nanny told me all about you.”

“Will she be in the hospital long?” Sophy O’Connor shifted from side to side, her pink sneakers covered with dust. “She’s not going to—to die, is she?”

“People don’t die from appendicitis, Sophy. I told you that already.” Stiff and hostile, Sophy’s sister watched Summer, arms crossed over her stomach. “Stop acting so completely stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Sophy’s face clouded as she jammed her small fists into the pockets of her pink jumper. “You can die from a bee sting, and Mom said things can happen to people—things you never expect.” She stared at her dusty feet. “I just want to know, Audra. From an adult, not you.”

Innocent as it was, this barb cut deep. “I am an adult. Almost. I’ll be fifteen next week.” Audra made a flat, angry sound. “Why do I even bother? You’re such a geek.”

Summer decided the bickering had gone on long enough. She would have to interrogate them about their prank with her shower, but first, introductions were due.

She held out one hand, mustering a smile. “You must be Audra. Your old nanny told me all about you, too.”

Dark, wary eyes glared back at her. “So?”

“She said you like to ride.”

A shrug. “I used to, but not anymore. Riding is kid stuff.”

Summer kept her smile in place. “So you don’t ride now?”

Another shrug. “I’ve got more important things to do.” Audra straightened the belt that hugged an impossibly small waist.

“Like what?” her sister asked curiously.

“God, Sophy. Don’t be such a baby.”

Sophy blew out an angry breath. To Summer’s surprise, she tucked an arm through Summer’s, dismissing her sister. “Are you ready? Ballet class starts in half an hour, and Patrick has a snack ready for us.”

Patrick?

Right. Cara O’Connor’s chef was thin, expressive, and a dead ringer for Colin Farrell, if she remembered correctly.

Sophy was staring at her expectantly. “Imelda told you about ballet class, didn’t she?”

Sophy’s ballet class at four.

Summer-school homework at five-thirty.

Dinner at six-fifteen.

Cara O’Connor’s precise schedule was currently overseen by Imelda, the efficient housekeeper with clever eyes and a laugh that filled the whole house. “Imelda gave me directions for driving you to ballet class in town. On the way we’ll drop your sister off at the aquarium so she can volunteer.”

“It’s public service, not volunteering.” Audra stuck out her chin. “I need one hundred hours every year for my college résumé. Kaylin Howell had five hundred hours and she still didn’t get into Stanford.”

“You told me Kaylin Howell made all C’s,” Sophy said innocently. “You said even if she had ten thousand hours, it wouldn’t help her.”

“Shut up, Sophy.”

“I doubt your mother would like you two to argue this way.” Summer was completely out of her element, but she wasn’t about to let her new charges know that. “And don’t think you’re off the hook about that little prank with Gabe Morgan, because you’re not.”