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Your Baby or Mine?
Marie Ferrarella
Bundles of JoyBOSS + BABIES = LOVEHer handsome boss was finally about to kiss her–until a baby began wailing at the top of its tiny lungs! And since single mom Marissa Rogers was the hired help, she had to leave those elusive lips to give his baby–or maybe hers–some tender, loving care.Marissa dreamed about Alec Beckett proposing marriage. But hadn't the sexy single dad solemnly sworn that the only female he would ever love weighed fifteen pounds and had no hair? Still, midnight feedings were leading to midnight kisses. And with any luck he would soon see that a one-hundred-fifteen-pound female was just as easy to love as any diapered darling.Bundles of Joy. Babies have a way of bringing out the love in people.



Table of Contents
Cover Page (#u5ec4760e-6612-5525-a5f2-0dd8886b4a5b)
Excerpt (#u65b2e019-288d-588f-8e99-5766c1aae50f)
Dear Reader (#u16c09cad-7bbd-5941-b950-4bd35a89f899)
Title Page (#uef19cb8b-f3b6-5433-8a68-54c2db6bd092)
Dedication (#ucc63ea0f-93cf-5c8e-8896-911711c9c8c6)
About the Author (#ued7d0125-ca35-5541-9d4f-914ae0455426)
Dearest Readers (#u0bcfcb83-0c14-583c-ad20-991f693ede8d)
Chapter One (#uc888ee99-b5f3-5edd-b593-1968f16bae6b)
Chapter Two (#uee611191-8c4d-5316-aefa-3dbb1e1996f4)
Chapter Three (#u57e20983-5e72-5a53-8744-ebdac30b3f37)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Alec swept Marissa into his arms, his mouth coming down on hers.
Yes. Yes! Marissa wound her arms around him and kissed him as if her very life had been given back to her.
Because it had.

Everything within her cried out for this moment. For at this moment, he was hers completely.

And then came the urgent cry.

“The baby,” she whispered, her breath heavy against his cheek.

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours.” Marissa was already backing away. “I’d better go see what she needs.”

He could only nod, trying to pull himself together.

What had he almost gone and done? If his daughter hadn’t cried out just then, heaven knows what would have happened.
Dear Reader (#ulink_959aa1bb-3620-594c-b5a6-40e2f1fc347a),
This April, let Silhouette Romance shower you with treats.

We’ve got must-read miniseries, bestselling authors and tons of happy endings!

The nonstop excitement begins with Marie Ferrarella’s contribution to BUNDLES OF JOY. A single dad finds himself falling for his live-in nanny—who’s got a baby of her own. So when a cry interrupts a midnight kiss, the question sure to be asked is Your Baby or Mine?
TWINS ON THE DOORSTEP, a miniseries about babies who bring love to the most unsuspecting couples, begins with The Sheriff’s Son. Beloved author Stella Bagwell weaves a magical tale of secrets and second chances.
Also set to march down the aisle this month is the second member of THE SINGLE DADDY CLUB. Donna Clayton, winner of the prestigious Holt Medallion, brings you the story of a desperate daddy and the pampered debutante who becomes a Nanny in the Nick of Time.
SURPRISE BRIDES, a series about unexpected weddings, continues with Laura Anthony’s Look-Alike Bride. This classic amnesia plot line has a new twist: Everyone believes a plain Jane is really a Hollywood starlet—including the actress’s ex-fiancé!
Rounding out the month is the heartwarming A Wife for Doctor Sam by Phyllis Halldorson, the story of a small town doctor who’s vowed never to fall in love again. And Sally Carleen’s Porcupine Ranch, about a housekeeper who knows nothing about keeping house, but knows exactly how to keep her sexy boss happy! Enjoy!
Melissa Senate
Senior Editor
Silhouette Romance

Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

Your Baby or Mine?
Marie Ferrarella


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Barbara Benedict,
for showing me a picture of Christopher

MARIE FERRARELLA
lives in Southern California. She describes herself as the tired mother of two overenergetic children and the contented wife of one wonderful man. This RITA Award-winning author is thrilled to be following her dream of writing full-time.


Dearest Readers (#ulink_4e7babb8-cbc6-5c92-980c-6f348326ec0e),
I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love babies. All except for my brother Michael, but hey, he replaced me as the center of my parents’ universe, and besides, he cried for the first two years. By the time my brother Mark came along, I was back on the baby bandwagon.

There is just something about babies—all babies—that makes me melt Even energetic ones, and heaven knows I’ve had my share of those. The only reason I was brave enough to try for a second child after Jessica, who leapt off coffee tables, tried to fly and insisted on galloping on all fours in public, was because I didn’t think God would do that to me twice. I figured my second child would be calm. little did I realize that God has a sense of humor. Child number two made child number one look as if she were standing still most of the time. Nik bit through soda cans before he could walk, toppled mannequins in department stores—he thought they were big Barbie dolls—and once, at the age of two, unhooked my bra in the middle of a major toy store when he grabbed me by my blouse! Served me right for having a bra with a front claspl There are bits and pieces of Jess and Nik in all the children I write about—children like Christopher in Your Baby or Mine? Despite what they put me through, I am still hopelessly hooked on babies and kids of all ages. I think, if you read my books, you might come away with that impression. You wouldn’t be wrong.
As always, I thank you for reading and I hope I succeed in entertaining you.

Love,



Chapter One (#ulink_fffc784d-a8a3-51cd-8372-20e6159d7a5e)
He hated being late. It was one of those traits that he had always thought was rude in others and unforgivable in himself. But in the past few months, being late had seemed to become his inevitable fate. It was as if he was doomed to constantly be running behind every deadline, every event in his life.
It had been that way since last April. Twelve impossibly long months. A year.
A year in which Alec Beckett felt as if he were trapped in the last few minutes of an old war movie he’d once seen where the hero was running along the railroad tracks, trying to catch a train that would take him to freedom.
No matter what he did, that train just seemed to be getting farther and farther away from him.
And it had just gotten worse. Ellen had up and quit on him without so much as a full day’s notice. She was the third nanny to leave in a year, if you didn’t count the one he’d fired. It seemed that he was having no better luck in picking nannies than he was having in catching up.
“Not your fault, Andrea.”
Alec looked down at the baby tucked against his chest. When she stared at him with those wide, green eyes, he sometimes had the feeling that his daughter could intuit things, that she knew exactly what he was thinking and reacted to iL Never mind that she was only a little more than a year old and had trouble feeding herself without sharing the contents of her spoon with her curly blond hair. She could see into his very soul.
“I just want you to know that. None of this is any of your fault. Everything just looks as if it’s falling apart, but it’s not. We’re going to get through this, you and me. Don’t you doubt that for a minute. Daddy’s going to get his act together any day now.”
He said it with enough feeling to almost convince himself.
Andrea smiled at the sound of her father’s voice and uttered something unintelligible in response that he took to be agreement His daughter’s smile never ceased to uplift him. Andrea was the single being his whole world revolved around these days. Now that Christine was gone.
The small parking lot behind him was crowded with cars, family vehicles mostly, attesting to the fact that the people who were attending the session had probably already arrived.
He’d meant to leave work early, but then Rex had cornered him in the hallway, desperate for some data that was supposed to be delivered to a buyer by tomorrow noon. That set him back considerably. Rather than be early, Alec had wound up being half an hour late.
“Boy, this being both mom and dad business doesn’t get any easier with time, does it?” He looked down at Andrea ruefully as he hurried up the five cement steps to the squat, new building where such warm and nurturing-sounding classes as Family Planning and Baby Gamboling were held regularly. The class he was rushing to was called Baby and Me. “I know, I know, you don’t have anything to compare it to. But it’ll get better, I promise. There’s a lot of room for improvement here.”
And improvement was what he was bent on. It was what had led him to sign up for the class in the first place. It would have been the kind of thing that Christine would have done, had she had the opportunity.
He’d hardly had proper time to mourn her. One moment, he was a widower, the next, the father of a tiny baby girl who was being placed in his arms. There’d been no time for tears. No time for anything except seeing to Andrea’s needs and working.
It was only in the middle of the night that time seemed to stretch out endlessly, like a line that was plumbed down to infinity.
It had been a year and he had gone on with his life, but it wasn’t easy. Alec kept his days so filled with work that there was no opportunity for grief, no opportunity for thought. Andrea saw to it that at least part of his evenings were busy. And all the while, Alec kept his emotions at arm’s length until he could deal with them.
If ever.
“No music,” he murmured to Andrea as he pulled open one of the double doors leading into the building.
The Baby and Me class was supposed to take place on the ground floor, first room to the left, just around the corner. If class was in session, he thought that there would be some sort of children’s songs floating through the air.
“That’s a good sign. Maybe we’re not as late as I thought.”
He wasn’t sure why he thought there should be music coming from a Baby and Me class, he just did.
Truth of it was, he didn’t know what to expect from such a class, only that attending it would be a good thing for Andrea. He wanted her to grow up healthy and happy, and he wanted to compare notes with other parents to see if he was doing things right.
Maybe someone here would know where he could find a reputable nanny at a moment’s notice. God knows he was at his wit’s end.
With Ellen quitting yesterday evening and a meeting he absolutely had to attend this morning, Alec had turned to his mother in desperation and prevailed upon her to watch Andrea for the day.
Alec smiled to himself. Roberta Beckett wasn’t the kind of woman Norman Rockwell had envisioned when he’d been painting all of those warm scenarios of hearth and home and loving grandmothers. She wasn’t anyone’s idea of the typical grandmother, which wasn’t surprising since she hadn’t been a typical mother, either. She didn’t even answer to “Mother,” only to “Roberta.”
That change had come about almost fifteen years ago. Roberta had suddenly felt too young to have a fifteen-year-old son. Adjustments had to be made. Since he couldn’t get younger, she did. She’d ceased being “Mother” and became “Roberta,” falling somewhere between a sophisticated older sister and an eccentric aunt.
Sometimes, Alec thought, he really missed saying the word mother.
He looked at Andrea. So would she, he thought.
That was why he had to make it up to her. And attending this class was as good a way as any to begin. He meant to do all the things with his daughter that Christine no longer could. And all the things that Roberta had never done with him. He meant to give Andrea a stable family life, even if he was the only one in her family.
Hell of a way to start out, he thought, being late like this.
Hurrying around the corner, Alec ran straight into another roadblock. This one was softer. And noisy. A surprised squeal echoed around him, mingling with the sound of childish cries. In his rush to get to the room, he’d bumped into a dark-haired woman who appeared out of nowhere like a storm, dressed in silver leggings and a bright blue, overly long T-shirt hiked up on one incredibly slender hip.
Weighed down with diaper bag and other paraphernalia, she was holding a squirming baby in her arms.
The howl was deafening. For a split second Alec wasn’t sure if the noise was coming from his baby or hers. And then he realized that both were crying, more in startled surprise than anything else.
“Sorry,” he apologized, raising his voice to be heard above the din. “I’m in a hurry.” Almost automatically, he ran his hand over Andrea’s back to soothe her.
Marissa Rogers rubbed her head where it had made stunning contact with his shoulder. The man didn’t look particularly muscular, but he obviously had to be. It was either that, or he was smuggling iron rods beneath that green sweater of his.
“That would have been my guess,” she replied, amused.
Taking a step back, she felt something tug at chest level. Looking down, she saw that the small pinwheel pin she always wore was stuck to the man’s very expensive-looking sweater.
Though he was standing in front of the room, she wondered if he was actually going to attend the session. He didn’t look familiar to her and he was certainly dressed all wrong for roughhousing with his baby. That required clothes that were comfortable and worn, not crisp, pressed and stylish.
Her pin threatened to unravel threads out of the carefully crafted sweater if either of them made any sudden moves.
“We seemed to be attached.” When he just stared at her, Marissa indicated the pin with her eyes. She shifted Christopher up higher in her arms, then tried to undo the connection using one hand.
The pin remained firmly entrenched in the sweater. Great, Marissa thought, just what she needed when she was running late. Exasperated, she blew her bangs away from her eyes.
Her baby was squirming, making it impossible to disengage the pin. They were close enough for Alec to take in everything about her and process more information than he normally would. Her eyes were an electric blue that managed to dim the color of the outlandish T-shirt she had on. Her hair was a riot of wisps and curls and yet somehow still looked as if it had been painstakingly arranged that way. Her lips were slightly larger than her oval face and delicate features warranted, keeping her from being beautiful, but definitely not from being engagingly striking.
She was having absolutely no success. “Here, let me try,” Alec offered.
He immediately realized his mistake when he reached for the pin. The situation would call for him getting a little more familiar with her than he figured they’d both be comfortable with. He didn’t think it would be prudent to be brushing his fingertips along a strange woman’s breast, no matter what the reason.
Alec dropped his hand. “Maybe not,” he amended. The woman’s wide lips pulled into an amused smile and he realized that they didn’t keep her from being beautiful. They enhanced her beauty.
“Mammmmaaaamaaa.” Christopher was yelling directly into her ear.
Marissa blinked, as if that would help her block out the deafening cry. She raised her eyes to the stranger’s. He looked definitely flustered and not happy about it. Marissa attempted to work the pin free again.
“Shh, Mamma’s trying to get herself uncoupled from this nice man.”
This was ridiculous. Class had probably already started and he was standing out here, being one half of a Siamese twin. “I think you’d do better with two hands,” Alec suggested.
“Maybe,” she agreed, “but if I put my baby down out here, you’ll get to witness a first-class imitation of a gazelle. And I won’t be able to do any dashing unless you happen to know how to run backward.”
Christopher had been walking ever since he was ten months old and peace as she knew it had gone out the window the moment he had taken his first step. Setting him down here while she was attached to this stranger was just like asking for trouble.
The baby looked as if it was all arms, legs and teeth. It was against Alec’s better judgment, but there didn’t seem to be much choice.
“Here, let me hold him for you.”
Pausing, Marissa looked at the green-eyed stranger. A smile curved her lips again. She nodded at the pink rompered baby in his arms. “You already seem to have your hands full.”
Alec shifted Andrea to one arm, holding out his other hand. “I can hold them both.”
He fervently hoped he wouldn’t wind up embarrassing himself. Together the babies probably weighed only about forty-five pounds or so, but the fact that hers seemed to be in perpetual motion was going to be a definite problem.
Marissa’s smile widened. The man looked as if he was getting himself ready for an ordeal. That had to be his first baby, she mused. Still, since no one else appeared to be coming around the bend, letting him hold both children seemed to be the only solution at the moment. And it was getting late.
She presented Christopher to him. “Okay, but you’d better brace yourself.” She noted that Chris was setting off the man’s daughter, as well.
“Thanks for the warning,” Alec muttered, accepting the boy, swinging feet and all. Instant contact was made with Alec’s stomach. Alec tried not to wince at the unexpected blow.
But Marissa saw it. “Sorry.” She flushed ruefully. “I’ll hurry.”
Very deftly, taking care not to snag the sweater, she worked one of the pinwheel blades loose. Two more to go. How had they managed to tangle themselves up so well so quickly?
She wasn’t hurrying fast enough for Christopher, or for the stranger, who was having trouble hanging on to both babies.
“Maaaa-aaaa.”
Alec winced, feeling an eardrum shatter. “Good lungs.”
The offhand remark evoked a bittersweet pang within Marissa. Stupid, stupid. There was no reason to feel that way. She fumbled with the thread she was trying to ease off the next point of her pin. All that was far behind her now, she reminded herself. More than two years in the past.
“The best.” She didn’t raise her eyes from what she was doing. “Daddy’s a tenor with the Metropolitan Opera.” Or was, Marissa amended silently, the last time she’d seen Antonio.
Alec regarded the woman thoughtfully. If her husband was with such a prestigious group, what was she doing out here in leggings and an outlandish shirt, stuck to him? Why wasn’t she in New York? Alec glanced at the slender fingers that were fluttering between them, working at the pin.
No ring. Divorced?
Her son made a grab for Alec’s ear, obviously determined to destroy by force what he hadn’t obliterated with his voice. Alec moved his head back as far as he could. He slanted a glance at the woman. “Could you, um, hurry up with that?”
She almost had it. “One second.” Marissa bit her lip ruefully. “I can’t believe how tangled it got in just that one collision.” The freed thread seemed to bounce back against the sweater. She smoothed it down with her fingertips. “There.” She sighed. “We’re free.” Marissa turned her attention to Christopher, grinning. “I’ll take that, thank you.”
Alec shifted so that she could easily reclaim her baby. Relief skied over him with the speed of a winter Olympic contender. “All yours.”
There was way too much feeling in that proclamation, Marissa thought, amused. At least the man was honest. He made no attempt to pretend that holding on to her wiggling son was a piece of cake. Christopher had worn out a number of baby-sitters in his time. He was the reason she’d opted for this kind of a job while she was trying to earn her masters degree. A degree that had been temporarily interrupted while she took time out to have Christopher and get at least a cursory handle on motherhood. Those hadn’t been her original plans, but she had adapted, just as she had adapted when she had discovered that Antonio’s plans for the future did not include being a father. With one stroke of a pen, he had shed her, their marriage vows and their unborn child.
Andrea grabbed the collar of Alec’s sweater and was hanging on to it as if her very life depended on it. He suspected that sharing space with the woman’s bundle of joy might have had something to do with this reaction.
“It’s okay, Andrea.” He bounced her against his shoulder and she made a noise he swore passed for a giggle. “Daddy’s all yours again.”
The woman’s eyes seemed to glow with warmth as they washed over his daughter. “Is that her name?” she asked. “Andrea?” Alec nodded, holding the door open for her. “Pretty.”
He supposed that some sort of conversation was in order as he followed the woman inside the huge room. Making small talk with strangers had always made him uncomfortable, though he seemed to manage well enough for no one to really notice.
“What’s your boy’s name?” There was no indication that the child in her arms was a boy. The clothing was neutral, as was the color. And the baby’s hair was at a length that could have gone either way. But something told Alec that no female child could yell like that.
“Christopher,” Marissa answered.
He’d always liked that name. “Rugged,” he commented, looking at the boy. “Suits him.”
Marissa cast a long glance around the room. It was filled with brand-new equipment and toys, both purchased and donated, just ripe to set off the imagination. Her classes were happy places that everyone looked forward to attending. And it looked as if everyone was already here. Time to start. “Thanks.”
He followed her, wondering if there were assigned places or if people just sat anywhere and milled about. He couldn’t have been more out of his element than if he had just tied a bungee cord around his waist.
“Do you know anything about the instructor?” Alec looked around, trying to discern if anyone in the room looked like a teacher. “This is my first time here.”
So that was it. Marissa turned around to face him. “I didn’t think I recognized you.” She tried to remember if there was a new name on the register. People came and went so frequently, it was hard to keep track. The classes were relatively unstructured, which was what attracted most parents to them. It was a place to exhale, to be shown that they hadn’t terminally ruined their offspring by misguided deeds, and to feel good about parenting, themselves and their children.
Judging by the turnout, she figured she was doing a good job of reaching her goals.
Andrea was wetting his sweater just below the snag, trying to suck it all into her mouth. Alec moved her to his other side. “I just registered.”
Marissa nodded at several mothers looking her way, then smiled brightly at the man. “Well, then, welcome to the class. I’m Marissa Rogers.”
Alec was feeling increasingly more uncomfortable. By his rapid count, there were only three other men here. He began to wonder if this had been such a good idea after all.
“Looks like the teacher’s one of those people who doesn’t take responsibility seriously.”
“Oh?” She arched a sharp brow in response to his observation. “What makes you say that?”
He shrugged, looking toward the door. “Well, she’s obviously later than we are.”
The smile on her lips was vaguely amused. “Not quite.”
Before he could ask her what she meant by that, she’d hurried away from him.
Alec watched her work her way up to the front of the room, shedding her diaper bag and her purse as she went. Judging by the way everyone greeted her, she was no stranger to the group. Holding Andrea against him, he moved in the woman’s wake, deciding that he might do better staying near someone who was aware of the routine.
Alec stopped dead and realized his mistake as soon as the woman turned around and addressed the people in the room.
“Sorry I’m late, everybody. Why don’t we all get started?”
There was a reason why she looked as if she knew the routine. She made up the routine.
“Score one for Daddy, Andrea,” Alec muttered under his breath.
Coming to terms with the fact that he hadn’t exactly put his best foot forward, Alec moved over to one side of the room. With luck, maybe he could blend into the crowd.

Once she’d gotten the session started and had broken up parents and children into small play groups, Marissa walked around the room, observing and giving advice or helpful hints wherever needed. She knew the value of a well-placed suggestion, an encouraging word. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the newcomer. She knew she’d never seen him before. There was no way a man like that could blend into the crowd and be forgotten. He had a take-charge manner about him, even when being intimidated by a roomful of one-year-olds.
He really did seem to love his little girl, she thought. He’d have to, to be going through something like this with her. The man looked as if he felt like a fish out of water.
“That’s very good, Mrs. Berg.” She patted the woman’s shoulder. “Just remember to guide Shelly’s hand through the exercise.”
Widening her smile and adding to her directions the touch of warmth that she prided herself on, Marissa made her way over to Alec’s side of the room.
He was on the floor, his legs spread out wide in front of him, with Andrea propped up against him. There was no one else around them.
Marissa squatted to his level. “You’re not doing anything.”
She’d surprised him. Alec cleared his throat, wishing he didn’t feel like such a damn fool.
“Yes, I am. We’re sitting here, watching everyone else.” He shrugged, feeling himself get defensive. “She seems content.” He caught hold of the edge of Andrea’s shirt just as she was beginning to crawl off and prove him a liar.
“Oh, but it’s no fun to just watch, is it, sweetheart?” Marissa scooped up the little girl. Chris was safely ensconced and busy interacting with a gaggle of other children and their parents. It was an unspoken rule that everyone in class helped look out for the little boy while Marissa worked. No one really seemed to mind. If anything, it was combat training under fire.
Holding Andrea, she looked down at Alec. “She’s supposed to burn up some of that pent-up baby energy when she’s here.” Marissa couldn’t help smiling as she looked the man over. “Looks to me as if she’s worn you out.”
Alec gained his feet, dusting off the back of his pants. “She does her best.” He was here to take advantage of what the program had to offer, there was no reason to feel awkward with the instructor. He took the plunge. “All right, what do you suggest?”
Still holding Andrea, she turned toward the bright yellow, blue and red interwove mesh that stood off to the side of the room. People were lined up to take their turn with their babies.
“How about the jungle gym? Lots of opportunity for her to stretch that little body.”
Alec looked at the netting dubiously. “And to break it.”
Oh, a worrier. She would have never pegged him for one of those. Marissa found it rather sweet.
“You’d be surprised at how resilient these little creatures are. C’mon,” she offered, “I’ll show you.” Then, not waiting for him, she began to walk toward the jungle gym.
“All right, I suppose we’re both game. And seeing as how you’ve got my daughter, I guess I have no choice.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Oh, no, Mr.—Beckett is it?” Alec nodded. “You always have a choice, no matter what.”
She sounded as if she meant that, he thought. Fiercely.
Standing back and letting her work, Alec watched with interest as Marissa put his limber little baby through a series of paces that had the little girl laughing with glee. The laugh was infectious, striking down both babies and parents alike. Alec felt himself grinning.
She had such a natural aptitude with children, he thought. And she certainly seemed to like being around them.
Slowly an idea, more like a prayer really, began to take form in his mind.
Maybe it was crazy, but he’d never know until he asked. Alec began silently rehearsing his offer and waiting for an opportunity to open up.

Chapter Two (#ulink_3fb806df-a7b1-520d-a845-01a83f5fb9ed)
For a moment Alec considered leaving Andrea at the jungle gym. No less than three mothers had volunteered to look after her along with their own offspring. But in the end, he opted to tuck his daughter onto his hip as he went to corner the agile instructor. He wasn’t all that keen on leaving his daughter with strangers, even nice ones.
Marissa was all the way at the other end of the large room. By the time he had made it over to her, he’d had to change direction three times and felt as if he was trying to catch a butterfly. The toddlers in the class weren’t the only ones with an endless supply of energy.
“Excuse me. Excuse me.” Weaving his way around the last obstacle—a woman with an exuberant twin firmly tethered to each hand—Alec finally managed to get close enough to Marissa to call out to her. “Mrs. Rogers, could I speak to you?”
Her arms full of wiggling child, Marissa turned around. He looked harried, she thought, an amused smile tugging at her mouth. It warmed her heart every time she saw a man taking the trouble to play his role as a father to the fullest. It proved to her that there were good fathers out there, even if neither her father nor Antonio had managed to take on the role with any grace or flare.
“Sure, if you call me Marissa. When you call me Mrs. Rogers, I have this urge to look over my shoulder to see if my mother is standing there.”
With an approving nod, she handed the little boy she was holding to the child’s mother. No sooner were her arms free than Andrea made a grab for her. Without missing a beat, Marissa took the little girl into her arms.
He was amazed at how easily Andrea seemed to take to the woman. It just reinforced his feelings about his decision.
“Then you’re not married?” The question came out of nowhere, nudging aside the one he thought he was going to ask.
She laughed softly, shaking her head. Though she considered herself to be a warm, friendly person, there were certain personal things she was reluctant to share. And what had happened between her and Antonio came under that heading.
Brushing Andrea’s wispy blond hair back from her face, Marissa evaded the question. “Not to my father, no.” Whenever she mentioned or thought of the Sergeant, it always evoked the same image for her. An open suitcase. It seemed as if she’d spent her entire childhood either packing or unpacking one, traipsing around the country because her father had signed his life away to the army.
Andrea seemed bent on restructuring Marissa’s face. Taking the little hand in hers to keep Andrea from widening her mouth, Marissa pressed a kiss to the busy fingers. Andrea cooed. Raising her eyes to Alec’s gaze, Marissa waited for him to continue. “Is that what you wanted to ask me?”
She knew it wasn’t. This wasn’t the kind of place a man came to meet women. Even if it was, he didn’t look like the type. Alec Beckett gave every impression that he was very Ivy League, very businesslike. Even in supposedly casual clothes, he looked ready to leap into a board meeting at a moment’s notice. She wondered what he did for a living and if he ever loosened up.
Alec noticed that Marissa didn’t seem to be distracted by the fact that Andrea was trying to climb up her body. If anything, she appeared to be at ease, as if it was all natural. An admiration for a talent he knew was way beyond him took hold.
“No, um…” Alec surveyed the crowded room. “Could we talk?”
Deftly, Marissa pried childish fingers away from her gold chain, a gift from her brothers and sisters when she graduated high school. It was her one cherished possession.
“Isn’t that what we’re doing now, Mr. Beckett?”
Marissa glanced toward the play area to see how Christopher was doing. Cyndee, a three-month veteran of the class and her self-appointed assistant, was watching over him as well as her own daughter and another child. The hopelessly perky woman was braver than most people here, Marissa mused. Everything seemed to be under control.
“I mean privately.” Alec wasn’t prepared to discuss business with an audience around.
He sounded serious. Marissa wondered if something was bothering him. He wouldn’t be the first parent who had sought her out for a sympathetic ear.
The room was full of parents and babies. It seemed as if each class was larger than the last. Not that she minded; she took it as a compliment. Marissa nodded over to the side.
“I’m afraid that a comer is the best I can do under the circumstances. Unless you want to wait until after class.”
“A corner will do fine.” He wanted her to have some time to think about what he had to propose. If he waited until after class, she might be too tired and automatically turn him down. He didn’t want to be turned down.
Alec followed Marissa. He noticed that several of the mothers were looking at him knowingly, as if the word “novice” were still stamped on his forehead. Sometimes, he had to admit, he felt that way. One year and he was still feeling his way around this maze called fatherhood.
Marissa leaned against the beige wall and looked up at him, waiting.
She had to have the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. So blue that they could have easily made him lose his train of thought. Because he suddenly felt awkward, Alec took his daughter from her. Holding Andrea gave him something to do, somewhere else to look besides her eyes.
Whenever he made presentations, he always strove for a good opening line. He knew the value of capturing his audience’s attention right from the start. But none occurred to him now. Making the best of it, Alec plunged in, stumbling.
“I noticed how good you are with the children.”
Marissa smiled. Where was he going with this? “The job kind of calls for it.” She saw at least three mothers who required her attention. She hoped that whatever Beckett had to say, he’d get to it quickly.
“I was wondering if you’re that good on a one-to-one basis.” This wasn’t going well, he thought.
Marissa turned her head back toward him with a jerk. He had her full attention now. She stared at him, voicing her thoughts aloud.
“Are you hitting on me?” Maybe she hadn’t gotten to be a good judge of character after all.
Completely wrapped up in the dilemma he found himself in, Alec took a moment to fully process her question.
“What?” Talk about wrong impressions. She thought he was trying to pick her up, he realized. Belatedly, he remembered he’d asked her if she was married. What else was she supposed to think? “Oh, no, really.” He’d denied it so adamantly, he knew that he inadvertently was sending out the wrong message. “I mean, not that you’re not pretty, you are. Very. Maybe even beautiful, but—” He stopped abruptly before he managed to make a complete fool of himself. He was hanging by a thread now. Alec’s laugh was rueful. “I’m not saying this very well, am I?”
He had a nice smile, she thought. Not merely a pleasant one, a really nice one. A smile that spoke of sincerity and went straight to the soul. Taking pity on him, she gently eased him off the hook.
“Well, the words pretty and beautiful can’t be held against you, but, no, you’re not.” She saw a woman waving at her to catch her attention. “I’m afraid I have to hurry you along, Mr. Beckett. What is your point?”
Alec felt disgusted with himself. How the hell could a man who could conduct meetings involving several hundred people be so tongue-tied when it came to talking to just one petite woman?
Because he wasn’t in his element, he reminded himself. His element contained software programs, computers. Sterile things, not things that required a sterilized environment. He glanced down at Andrea who was once again attempting to see just how much of his sweater she could stuff into her mouth. With an inward sigh, Alec eased the expensive wool out past tiny pink lips.
Marissa was beginning to edge away. If he didn’t talk quickly, he knew he was going to lose her. “My nanny quit.”
She couldn’t help herself. The declaration begged for a comeback. “Aren’t you a little old for a nanny, Mr. Beckett?”
For a second he thought she was serious. The amusement in her eyes set him straight. Humor. He realized that in the past year he’d almost forgotten how to laugh.
“No, I mean, Andrea’s. Andrea’s nanny quit.”
She stood on her toes, as if that would make her voice carry better. “I’ll be right there, Mrs. Stewart,” she promised the woman who was waving at her. Marissa turned back to Beckett, laying a hand on his arm. The moment instantly turned private.
“I know.” Marissa laughed. “Forgive me, but you looked as if you needed to be teased a little. I’m sorry, it was a poor joke. You were saying?”
Her eyes were so brilliant, so animated, they reminded him of the lake outside his window when the sun reflected on the calm water. It took him a second to retrieve his thoughts from their grasp.
Andrea, frustrated that she couldn’t teeth on her father’s sweater, squealed. “Andrea’s nanny quit last night and I was wondering if—”
Marissa nodded, finishing his thought. “I know of anyone for the job?”
She was only half right. “Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of you for the job.”
Marissa blinked. Had she missed something? Why would Beckett think that she needed a job? In light of what was presently going on in her life, the suggestion was particularly stunning.
“Me?”
She looked dumbstruck. Oh, God, he hoped he hadn’t insulted her somehow. But he was desperate and desperate men did desperate things. Alec began talking quickly. “Yes, you’d be perfect. The kids all seem to respond to you.”
He’d already said that, she thought. Marissa began moving toward Mrs. Stewart again. She did have a job to do and she wasn’t seeing to it by standing here, talking to him.
“Well, I thank you for the compliment, but as you can see, I already have a job. One that I really should be doing."
He wasn’t giving up that easily. Not after seeing the way Andrea took to her. Andrea had always cried whenever a new nanny came into her life.
“Is this full-time? Your job?” God, just listen to him. He was talking as if English were his second language.
Teaching the classes was only a part-time job. Luckily, she did have Antonio’s child support checks. Though he had loudly proclaimed himself not to be father material, that much he had been willing to give of himself. The checks, the scholarship money the university had awarded her and an incredible ability to live on a shoestring was all she really needed.
Marissa saw no reason to go into any of that with Beckett “No, but my time is pretty well taken up.”
“With Christopher?” It didn’t take a genius to guess that.
Her smile was so wide it dominated her face and slipped up into her eyes. “Yes.”
Alec pounced. He’d been prepared for that objection when he’d made his offer. “You could bring him with you. What I really need is a live-in nanny.” It would make things a lot easier, but he could be flexible. Desperate men were. “But since you’re married, I could—”
Maybe she should clear that up, she decided. There was no reason to have Beckett laboring under a misconception.
“I’m not married. Anymore,” she added. “But that’s not the problem, Mr. Beckett. I go to school three nights and one day a week.”
He only heard what he needed to hear. “You’re not married?”
He wasn’t getting the message. “No,” Marissa said firmly. “But—”
Alec’s mind moved faster than her protest. “Then you could be a live-in.”
“If I needed to be, but—”
Relief was a heady thing and he let it wash over him. He hadn’t expected to get this lucky. Thank God he’d opted to register for this class.
“This is great. I work at home two to three days a week.” It was part of Bytes and Pieces’ policy to help solve Southern California’s escalating gridlock problem rather than add to it. All that had been needed was a terminal connected to the main computer at the office and he was on his way. “Something could be worked out.”
Temporarily forgetting about Mrs. Stewart, Marissa addressed the more pressing problem: getting through Beckett’s thick head. She raised her voice. “Yes, if I wanted it to, but, Mr. Beckett, you’re missing a crucial point here.”
He ceased mentally patting himself on the back. “I am?”
“Yes.” She looked up at him, carefully enunciating each word. “I said no.”
The foundation of the Arch of Triumph he was constructing suffered a terminal crack. He tried to smooth it over.
“Not in so many words,” Alec observed quickly.
The man had to be a salesman. “Actually, in a lot of words, some of which you wouldn’t allow me to get out. I have a very full schedule and I really don’t need to take on any more right now.”
He had a feeling about Marissa and Andrea. She would be good for his daughter. He wasn’t about to give up without a fight. “How much are they paying you here?”
His question caught her off guard. “That’s a little personal, don’t you think?”
Alec shook his head. He wasn’t trying to pry, he was trying to win. “Money is never personal. It’s a very public thing. Whatever it is, I can double it.”
The man didn’t know how to take no for an answer. Given his looks and the expensive cut of his clothing, she suspected that he probably didn’t hear it very often. “I take it that you’re used to getting what you want?”
He realized that honesty carried weight with her. It was gut feeling, but he went with it.
“No, just not used to being this desperate. I’ve had four nannies for Andrea in a year. Four women I hand-picked after long, exhausting sessions of talking to enough women to easily fill up a convention hall. They all came from reputable agencies and had long, glowing references in their possession, but things just didn’t work out.”
She wondered if the women left because of some problem that had to do with him. She couldn’t see how it could have been because of Andrea. “Why is that?”
He thought for a moment, trying to remember. “Ellen left because she fell in love with someone who was leaving town. Celeste decided that she wasn’t cut out to be a nanny. I fired Sue. Ingrid, the first nanny, retired. I think Andrea might have had something to do with that. There’s no getting away from the fact that she’s a handful.” He thought of Christopher. Andrea was positively docile in comparison. “But I think you’re used to that.”
Marissa couldn’t help smiling. Christopher was a live wire by anyone’s definition. “You might say that.”
Good, he had her attention. Alec didn’t let the opportunity slip away. “Anyway, I really don’t have the time to go through the process again. I’m in the middle of marketing this new software I developed and the thought of sitting and listening to the peccadilloes of a squadron of women while I try to separate fact from fiction to find a woman who has enough love, patience and enthusiasm to handle my daughter is particularly daunting right now.” He gave it his best shot. “Especially when I’ve found a woman who would be perfect for the job.”
Marissa sighed. He was giving her an awful lot of credit. Either that, or he really was serious about dreading the thought of conducting interviews. Either way, she couldn’t help him.
“Well, I thank you for that, but speaking of jobs…” She glanced over her shoulder at the group. Mrs. Stewart had been inordinately patient. She had to answer the woman’s question and start the new game portion of the class. “I should be getting back to mine.”
He had thought that he was winning her over. “What about my offer?”
“It’s a very flattering one, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass.” She was walking backward, away from him, and managed, somehow, to avoid colliding with anyone or stepping on any of the toddlers that were almost everywhere he looked. The woman was uncanny. “But I’ll let you know if I find someone who can live up to your specifications.”
“Outside of Mother Teresa, Mary Poppins and you,” he murmured to himself, “I don’t know of anyone.” Temporarily deflated, Alec looked at his daughter. He had to be in the office tomorrow. This wasn’t going to go over well with his mother. “Do you think your grandmother is up to taking you for another day?”
Andrea screwed up her face and made a familiar sound. Alec looked around for someplace where he could change his daughter. There was a change table against the far wall and he headed toward it just as Marissa called for attention.
“Don’t tell Roberta I called her that,” he whispered to Andrea. “Or she’ll really walk out on us.”
Andrea grunted again. Alec walked faster.

Roberta Beckett smoothed back her carefully styled auburn hair with a perfectly manicured hand. Two-inch-long fingernails flickered in the air like mauve butterflies searching for a place to alight. Through a meticulous regime that she adhered to religiously, Roberta managed to look years younger than the age written on the birth certificate tucked away in her safe-deposit box. Alec knew it was one of her greatest sources of pride that most people, upon seeing her with him, mistook them for brother and sister.
“It’s not that I don’t love her, Alec. I do. I truly do.” Roberta spared a smile for the child, who was holding on to the webbed siding of the portable crib and bouncing up and down in place. “But this rocking, feeding, diapering…” Her deep, husky voice dropped an octave lower as she said the last distasteful word. “It just isn’t me.”
Who knew that better than he? Still, his back was against the wall; he wouldn’t have asked her any other way. Besides, he knew for a fact that the housekeeper performed the actual dirty work. All Roberta did was add her stamp of approval.
“I know, Roberta, and I appreciate you putting yourself out like this, but—”
She didn’t want his gratitude, she wanted results. “Haven’t you found anyone yet?”
He hadn’t even had time to call the agency. He supposed he should have begun interviews yesterday instead of going to class with Andrea, but when he’d signed up, he hadn’t planned on the nanny quitting.
Mentally, he took inventory to make sure he’d brought everything that Dorothy, his mother’s housekeeper, would need to take care of Andrea. “Ellen only quit a little more than twenty-four hours ago.”
The argument obviously carried no weight with Roberta. “God created the world in six days.”
His mother had her own brand of logic. He had ceased to try to make sense of it a long time ago. “He left Adam and Eve for last. That was the hardest part.”
Roberta sniffed. Andrea squealed with glee, then landed on a well-padded bottom and a stuffed rabbit. “You don’t have to create a nanny, just hire one.”
He had to get going. Rex, one of the two owners of the company, was his best friend and incredibly understanding, but there were limits. “Almost as difficult.”
Roberta gave him a reproving look. “I never had difficulties finding one for you.”
Alec thought of the women who had paraded through his life, the ones who had been there to substitute for the genuine article. The very memory was enough to make him not want to hire anyone. He’d had a disjointed, unstable childhood at best. He hadn’t wanted that for Andrea. But he obviously had no choice. Alec sincerely hoped she wouldn’t remember any of this.
Because he needed help, he threw the ball into Roberta’s court. “All right, then you do it. You find a nanny.”
“Me? I should think that would be something you would want to handle on your own.” Roberta pursed her lips in a disapproving pout. “Really, Alec, I thought I raised you more independently than that.”
She was unorthodox, but he loved her. That still didn’t make him incline to let her delude herself.
“No, Roberta, you didn’t raise me at all. Estelle and Elizabeth and Suzanne and Joan and several other women whose names and faces begin to escape me, they raised me."
She distanced herself the way she always did when faced with something she didn’t want to deal with. A frown brought with it several wrinkles that refused to be smoothed, creamed or coaxed away. “What is your point?”
There was a vague discomfort in her eyes. Any moment now she’d announce that she was going off on a junket somewhere, leaving him completely adrift. He had to do something before that happened.
Alec looked at his mother ruefully. “The point is that I’m a little stressed out right now and I guess I’m being rude.”
Roberta smiled, graciously accepting the apology. “Yes, you are. But I forgive you because, after all, I am your mother even if I don’t look it.”
She walked Alec to the front door. “I’ll watch her today but remember, this can’t go on forever. I want you to find a nanny quickly.”
“No more than me, Roberta,” he assured her. “No more than me.”
“By tomorrow,” she called after him.
With any luck, tomorrow could be one of the days he worked out of the office he had set up in his den. That would give him the opportunity to conduct a few interviews. If conducting interviews for a nanny could be referred to as an opportunity.
He fervently hoped it would be the last time he’d have to go through this.

“Thanks, Jane, you’re a lifesaver.” Marissa shed her sweater, draping it over the back of the kitchen chair. Class had run over. Professor Johnston had gotten into a heated discussion with one of the students over the administration of corporal punishment and the class, divided, had taken sides. She was more than half an hour late. She’d called Jane from the campus, but that hadn’t changed the fact that it was way past the time she’d promised to be back.
Jane gathered her books together, depositing them into her backpack. She grinned. “Hey, no problem. Think of it as payback time. I remember when you used to baby-sit me.” The young girl got up. “You made things so much fun.”
The Sergeant had been stationed here for a while when Marissa was in her mid-teens. She’d always liked babysitting at the Hendersons. Their house always seemed to be so comfortably disorganized. Not the pristine living quarters that the Sergeant insisted on. “I liked you, it was easy.”
Jane nodded over her shoulder toward the tiny alcove off the living room. “Christopher is in bed.”
“Asleep?”
It was a rhetorical question. If he hadn’t been, Marissa knew she would have heard him by now. He wasn’t a child who didn’t make himself known.
Jane nodded. “I think we tired each other out.”
She’d already called her father and knew he was on his way to pick her up. He’d be out front by the time she got down to the ground level.
Jane was at the door when she suddenly remembered. “Oh, and you had a phone call. I took the number down. It’s posted on the refrigerator.”
“Thanks.” Marissa handed Jane her money. “And good night.”
“Same time Thursday?”
“You bet.” Marissa locked the door and crossed to the refrigerator. Taking the paper from under the magnet, she stared it at. The number wasn’t familiar.
But the name was. Jeremy Allen. The man she was subletting the apartment from. Tucking the phone number into her jeans, she first crossed to the alcove to check on Christopher.
He was still asleep. She stood, looking at him, love swelling within her heart. During the day Christopher was sheer energy, but once he was down, he was down for the night. It was, she supposed, nature’s little way of compensating.
She was still smiling to herself as she dialed the phone number. A sleepy voice answered on the fourth ring and said what passed for hello.
“Jeremy? This is Marissa.” She glanced at the clock and realized what time it was in New York. She’d completely forgotten about the time difference. “Oh, God, did I wake you?”
“Yeah, but that’s okay.” She heard rustling on the other end, as if he was sitting up in bed. “I’ve got some news.”
Marissa didn’t know if she particularly liked the sound of that. It was the exact same way her father used to preface his announcements that they were moving yet again.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I’m coming home.”
She could feel her stomach sinking down to the floor. The apartment was a godsend for her. Located just a couple of miles from the campus and close to both her job and Jane, it made her life easy.
Easy was obviously not a word destined to remain with any permanence in her life. “When?”
“End of the week.”
“The end of. the week?” When she’d agreed to sublet the apartment, Jeremy had said that he was leaving for two years. It had only been nine months. “But you said—”
It was clear that he didn’t feel up to being hassled when he was half asleep. “That this was only temporary,” he reminded her.
She could barely afford to live here. How was she going to pay for a regular apartment and still go to school? “Yes, but you made it sound as if it was until the end of next year—at the very least.”
He didn’t sound any happier than she did about the need to return home. “It was, but the funding for the play ran out We closed today.” Jeremy let out a long sigh. “I could let you stay on. Of course, it’d be a little tight.”
In more ways than one, she thought. It was all right to deal with Jeremy when he was three thousand miles away. But she knew what close proximity would bring and she wasn’t up to the struggle involved with keeping him at arm’s length all the time. Jeremy believed that no woman should die without experiencing the pleasure of having slept with him, at least once.
“That’s all right,” she told him. “I’ll be out by the end of the week.” Oh, God.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” He yawned in her ear. “You’d better get some sleep,” she urged. “I’ll see you Friday.”
“Let me know if you change your mind. I’m a bighearted guy.”
“Right.” Marissa hung up, frowning. She had four days to find a place to live, work on her thesis, study for an exam and juggle all the other various parts of her life.
Marissa felt as if she’d just hit the legendary wall. And it had fallen on top of her.

Chapter Three (#ulink_91bcd278-d4f2-5573-b8e0-376e2d71a969)
Marissa hurried into the room, just barely making it in time. The clock on the back wall announced that it was exactly five-thirty.
Made it.
She was only vaguely aware that Christopher had his fingers tangled in the ends of her hair and was apparently intent on seeing how resilient it was. The tugging on her scalp registered peripherally and she moved his hand away. Undaunted, he went to work on the neck of her T-shirt.
A quick scan of the room told her that everyone seemed to be here. She had made class by the skin of her teeth. Again. This had to stop. Up until last month, she’d always been so organized.
Like a drill sergeant
She supposed, in a way, she wasn’t all that different from her father. Marissa raised her brow. Now there was a frightening thought She wasn’t anything like the Sergeant, she was just feeling slightly punchy, that’s all.
Concerned about having to look for a new place to live, she’d tossed and turned all night. And when she’d finally dropped off, Christopher had woken up, loudly announcing the beginning of a brand new day. A day that had three classes and a trip to the library crammed into it. The latter had turned into nothing short of a disaster. Every book she needed for her thesis had been checked out. There hadn’t been time to try another library.
Lately there didn’t seem to be enough time to do anything except rush.
The classified section she’d grabbed this morning on her way out the door was no closer to being read now than it had been when she’d left the apartment at eight. It had spent the day sticking up out of her purse, a constant reminder that she hadn’t had the time to look through it yet.
She was a little afraid of opening it. Afraid to see just what apartments within the area were going for now. Undoubtedly it had to be a lot more than she was able to wring out of her already-squeezed-to-the-limit budget. There was no way that she was going to be able to afford an apartment on her own. Though she hated the idea, she was going to have to find a roommate.
With her master’s thesis weighing heavily on her mind, the prospect of looking for an apartment and a roommate was almost more than Marissa could handle. She could feel it wearing away at her, eroding her optimism like a steady drip eventually erodes the surface of a rock.
It was beginning to seem, Marissa thought, as if life just never got easier.
Heads turned in her direction as the door behind her closed with a resounding slam. She hadn’t meant to let go of it. Marissa flashed a smile at those closest to her. Reaching over to set her purse on the floor, she accidentally dropped the folded newspaper. She felt disjointed and uncoordinated.
Marissa sighed, gathering her patience together. She was going to get through this, just as she had managed to get through every other bumpy segment of her life. If she’d gotten some sleep, she wouldn’t feel this frazzled.
Still, sometimes it would be nice just to have one thing to handle at a time. Like getting her thesis completed.
Securing Christopher on her hip, Marissa bent to pick up the scattered pages. She was definitely going to go through them right after class. Just before she collapsed into a boneless heap.
“Let me get that for you.”
Marissa glanced up to see that the offer had come from Beckett. She bit back the impulse to say that she could manage. Right now, she couldn’t.
“That would be very nice,” she murmured, straightening again.
With one eye on Andrea who was on the floor, communing with two other babies, Alec squatted and quickly gathered up the paper.
Marissa dragged her free hand through her hair. The damp air had made it curl like a plateful of curly fries. It felt hopelessly tangled. A little, she mused, like her life right now.
“Thanks.” She took the paper from him, then smiled ruefully. “I seem to be coming apart today.”
Not that he’d noticed. Alec allowed his eyes to wander up and down her frame. She was wearing hot pink leggings and a pristine white top today. He wondered how long it would remain that way, given that her son was tugging a piece of it toward his mouth.
He smiled at her. “Then you must have gotten your hands on one hell of an adhesive because all your parts seem to be holding together damn well from what I can see."
He was flirting with her, she thought. The effect was not unpleasant. In the midst of the classroom, it was harmless enough and God knew it felt good to hear when she was feeling like an A-l ugly duckling with frizzy hair.
“Thanks.” The dimple at the corner of her mouth winked as she grinned. “I needed that more than having the papers picked up.”
She has a nice smile, Alec thought. Hell, she has a nice everything. If he were in the market for that sort of thing, he added silently. Which he wasn’t.
The only thing he was in the market for right now was a nanny. Fast. Just the thought of the pending interviews lined up for him tomorrow made him uneasy. He glanced at Marissa, wondering if asking her one more time might make her reconsider his offer.
He never got the chance to find out.
Setting the classifieds out of the way, Marissa turned her attention to the rest of the class. If she didn’t get started, there was no way the class would end on time. She didn’t believe in shortchanging people just because she was having personal problems.
Alec picked Andrea up from the floor and found a spot in the front of the room. “Time to get you limber, Andy,” he whispered against the downy softness of her cornsilk hair. He took her gurgle to be agreement.
Individual chatter died away quickly. The only sound that remained was that of babies cooing and fussing.
Marissa smiled ruefully at the people in the first few rows. “Well, I see that I’m the last one here again. I’m really sorry,” she apologized with feeling, “but I seem to be running behind lately.”
A sympathetic, commiserating murmur rippled through the group. Everyone, it seemed, had been there, or was still there. Babies had a habit of upending lives.
Marissa found looking out on the sea of familiar faces comforting. It helped nudge her problems into the background. At least temporarily. These people weren’t paying good money to come to class just to see a woman nearing the end of her rope. They were here for guidance, bless ’em. And to be shown creative games they could play with their children, games that were geared toward teaching as well as fun.
Most of all, they were here because they loved their children. It gave them all a common bond. A special bond. No one knew better than she did the importance of parental love. Or how it felt to grow up without it.
She looked around the room slowly, making eye contact with as many people as she could. “All right, people, let’s get started, shall we?”

She was preoccupied, he would make book on it.
Alec was well acquainted with the signs. They’d been there, in his own mirror, countless times over the past year. Today had been no exception.
The look that was in her eyes had stared back at him this morning while he was shaving. Preoccupied, he’d almost managed to slice his face. He’d been worrying about finding if not the perfect nanny, at least a tolerable one, preferably with stamina.
Alec couldn’t help wondering what Marissa’s dilemma concerned and if there was any way that they could wind up helping each other. If he did something for her, then maybe she would agree to…
He was really beginning to think like a desperate man, he upbraided himself.
“How could a man feel desperate, having someone like you in his life?” he asked Andrea. She ignored him, trying to swallow her foot whole. Laughing, Alec redirected her attention to the business at hand.
Out of the corner of his eye he watched Marissa as she wandered from parent to parent, giving advice, encouragement and always, tacit approval. Her genuine enthusiasm was infectious. Everyone, he noted, vied for her attention. They were all seated on the floor, most with their offspring planted between their legs, struggling to put the toddlers through the paces of the new exercise she had just introduced.
Marissa was determined to get to everyone at least once during the session. She stopped by one mother whose baby, howling in protest, was trying to make a break for freedom. Each time the woman let go of him, he would start crawling away.
It looked amusing, but Marissa knew how frustrating it could be. “Try this,” she suggested. Using the little boy as a model, Marissa demonstrated how to stretch the young muscles without placing undue pressure on them. The boy stopped squirming.
Success. Marissa rose, nodding at the boy’s mother. “Now you.”
Hesitantly, the woman mimicked what she had been shown. Marissa’s grin was wide as she squeezed her shoulder. “That’s it. Have fun with it.” She began picking her way around the room again. “That’s why you’re here,” she told the others, “to have fun with your baby.”
Another woman waved to get Marissa’s attention. “Is this right?”
“As long as neither you nor your baby turn into a pretzel, it’s right.” Marissa watched as the woman demonstrated her own interpretation of the stretching exercise, then nodded. “Remember, creativity is the key. Be flexible. Inventive. This isn’t so much about form as it is about making sure your baby gets a healthy dose of exercise.”
“How much is enough?” someone asked.
“As much as either one of you can take. You’ll know when it happens,” she promised. Marissa stopped to ruffle one baby’s amazing mop of black hair. The baby gurgled in response. “These babies have energy, use it positively. For you, not against you. Tire them out naturally, instead of having them become comatose in front of a TV set.”
Alec looked up, surprised. “You don’t like television?”
Marissa turned in the direction of the question. Beckett. She couldn’t picture him planting his daughter in front of a television set. He seemed too attentive to the little girl’s needs.
“Oh, I love TV, but just not as a perpetual baby-sitter.”
That had been her mother’s solution and she had taken to it wholeheartedly. So much so that as Marissa was growing up in her nomadic existence, at times it seemed as if the TV was her only friend. It had taken willpower and determination for her to break the habit and stop hiding in a make-believe world. She’d made certain that her siblings didn’t make her mistake.
“Too many parents plant their kids in front of a TV set and leave them there. Then they’re surprised five years later to find out that their son or daughter has turned into a couch potato with no interest in getting any exercise.”
Just as Marissa began to kneel, Andrea scooted through her legs. Marissa grabbed the edge of the little girl’s smock in time to prevent her from colliding with another baby. She stilled Andrea’s squeal of protest with a hug.
She was quick, Alec thought as he reclaimed his daughter from Marissa’s arms. Andrea was developing a nasty habit of wanting to go off exploring on her own. He knew he should encourage it, but he worried about her getting hurt. Maybe he was being too cautious. He wished there was someone to turn to to help him over the rough spots.
“I don’t think there’s any danger of either one of you becoming couch potatoes,” he commented. Not with moves like that.
Marissa inclined her head, acknowledging his assessment. She thought of the pace her life had taken on lately. A sigh escaped before she could prevent it. She saw the curious look in Beckett’s eyes.
“I think I might like that, actually. Kicking back and sitting on a sofa—one that didn’t have work piled up all over it.”
He would have bet that there wasn’t anything about her that was disorganized. Maybe he was wrong. “Are you talking about laundry or a business you run out of the house?”
“Neither.” Marissa thought of the state she had left her living room in this morning. Her sofa was littered with pads of notes that had to do with her thesis. The thesis that would determine whether or not she was going to graduate. “I’m talking about schoolbooks.”
He had a feeling that she didn’t just exclusively teach Baby and Me classes. “Then you’re a real teacher? I mean, you teach someplace else?”
“No, I learn someplace else.” She’d already told him that she was going to school, there was no harm in elaborating. “I’m going for my master’s degree. Child psychology,” she continued. Marissa looked toward her son. Having used him in her original demonstration, she had left Christopher in Cyndee’s care as she made her way around the room. “I want to know what makes them tick as well as how their bodies work.”
He didn’t begin to fool himself into believing that he would ever understand how his daughter’s mind worked. She was only a year old and he was already having trouble second-guessing her reactions. It would only get harder as time went on. “Sounds like a lifetime study.”
She laughed, thinking of the theory she was developing in her thesis. “Tell me about it.”
Impulse took over, putting words into his mouth before they were fully formed in his head. “I’d like to. Over coffee.” Alec looked at Marissa hopefully. “Maybe after class?”
She was tempted. But then she squelched the reaction. It wasn’t a good idea. The last thing she wanted was to see one of her male students socially. Her life was complicated enough as it was.
“I don’t think—”
“Strictly student and teacher.” He clarified his invitation so quickly that she was embarrassed for thinking that he’d meant socially. “I’ve got some questions I need to ask you and you’re a hard lady to corner for more than a couple of minutes at a time.”
“Marissa,” a woman called to her.
Alec grinned, his point validated. “See what I mean?”
Her mouth curved as she nodded. “Yes.”
“Is that yes, you see what I mean, or yes, you’ll go out with me for coffee?”
She answered before she let herself think about it. If she stopped to think, she would have been forced to refuse. She had too much else to do. Time was ticking away.
“Both.”
“Great.” A pleased feeling spread through Alec that seemed somewhat disproportionate to what had transpired. But then Andrea tried to make another break for it and Alec found his attention drawn elsewhere.
Alec would have never thought of Squirrely Joe’s as a, place to take a woman for a cup of coffee. For one thing, the cups were made out of cardboard. For another, so was their coffee. The Squirrely Joe’s located two miles from where the Baby and Me classes were held was part of a fast-food chain that served up remarkably appetizing junk food. Making a proper cup of coffee was very low on their priority list, right after degreasing the overhead oven fans.
But Squirrely Joe’s was where Marissa said she wanted to go when he asked her. So, Squirrely Joe’s it was.

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