Baby for the Billionaire(56)
“It was constructed as an apology to the man’s wife—” He spared a quick glance toward the backseat. To his relief, Isabella was sound asleep, no doubt worn out from her morning exertions. He lowered his voice. “When his wife found out he’d been keeping a mistress in high style, she demanded recompense. He had this house built to make up for his folly.”
A smile trembled on Annalise’s mouth. “For his folly for taking a mistress or for getting caught?”
Jack grinned. “No one’s quite certain, though there’s been endless speculation about that.” He exited the car and gently extracted Isabella from the backseat. She murmured groggily before burrowing against him and nodding off again. It was rare moments like this that convinced him he’d done the right thing, that this poor little mite needed him. “She’s exhausted, which means she’ll nap for a while. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
“I gather it doesn’t last long?”
“No.”
That single, terse word said it all. He led the way into the kitchen and introduced Annalise to Sara. The housekeeper offered a warm smile before turning a wary eye on Isabella. “Little Madam is worn out, I see. But it must have gone well, considering you managed to hire another nanny.”
Jack slanted Annalise a quick, encouraging look. “One who plans to stay, I hope.” He inclined his head toward the steps at the far end of the kitchen. “I’ll be up in the nursery if you need me.”
He ascended the back staircase, climbing to the second floor. The nursery wing occupied the right-hand side of the U-shaped mansion. It had been designed in the days of large families and live-in servants, and consisted of four bedrooms, plus the nanny’s quarters, and a huge playroom. He carried Isabella into the room she’d chosen for herself. It overlooked a large patio and yard, and was enclosed by a towering stone wall. After settling his niece in her bed, he picked up the baby monitor and hooked it to his belt. Then he motioned to Annalise and escorted her to the playroom, where they could talk without disturbing Isabella.
The instant they entered the room, Annalise spun around to face him. She did her best to hide it, but she was seriously rattled. A deep flush sculpted her sweeping cheekbones, while her eyes rivaled the sun in their intensity. Though she stood without moving, the ringlets which had escaped her control trembled in agitation.
She took a deep breath, drawing his attention downward to where the vee of her jacket clung to the attractive swell of her breasts and traced the outline of her narrow waist and the womanly flare of her hips. For some reason the nondescript black suit didn’t seem so nondescript anymore. Not when he examined all it concealed.
His nanny was a knockout.
“Color me officially overwhelmed,” she announced.
“I have every confidence that you’ll acclimate,” he replied.
Worry dug a small line between her brows. “I’m not so sure. I’ve only seen the smallest fraction of this place and I’m already blown away.”
“Relax, Ms. Stefano. One of the reasons I hired you was your impressive self-control.”
“No, the reason you hired me was because all the other rats had deserted the sinking ship.” She paced off a small measure of her agitation, giving him an excellent view of her endless legs and gloriously rounded backside. She spun around to face him. “Is this the sort of home Isabella came from?” she asked. “Was she accustomed to this sort of grandeur? To living among so many antiques?”
Jack forced himself to ignore the tantalizing view and focus on the business at hand. “No, Joanne and her husband, Paul, lived a far more simple life.”
Annalise’s expression grew troubled. “So many changes, poor baby,” she murmured. “It must be even more overwhelming for her than it is for me.”
“This is where and how I live. In time, my niece will become accustomed to it. She won’t have any choice.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Unless you expect me to sell a home that’s been in my family for over a hundred and fifty years?”
She waved that aside. “No, of course not.” She regarded him in momentary silence and he could see her marshaling and organizing her thoughts and impressions. “May I ask a personal question?”
Not a road he wanted to head down. Nonetheless, he inclined his head. “Feel free.”
“How did you gain custody of Isabella? Did your sister request you as guardian in her will?”
“It would have simplified matters if she had. Unfortunately, she didn’t.”