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Fortune's Little Heartbreaker
Cindy Kirk


ROMANCING THE . . . NANNY?!Sir Oliver Fortune Hayes is new to Horseback Hollow…new to Texas…and even new to parenting. It's enough to drive a man daft–and daft he would go, if it weren't for Ollie's new nanny, Shannon Singleton.A cowgirl for a nanny? It’s a little unorthodox, but it works. The trouble is, now Oliver can’t help imagining sweet Shannon as his Valentine. She’s warm and bubbly and…much too young for the likes of him. Will proper Oliver maintain his upper-crust composure? Or will the love of a good Texas woman rope him in for good?







MEET THE FORTUNES!

Fortune of the Month: Oliver Fortune Hayes

Age: 37

Vital Statistics: Blue-eyed, exceedingly handsome aristocrat and single dad. He’s just a tad … uptight.

Claim to Fame: Sir Oliver is rich. Really rich.

Romantic prospects: Suddenly he’s got a toddler in diapers and a dog barely housebroken. Just how much are most women willing to take on?

“I can manage millions, but when it comes to my small Fortune, I haven’t a clue. Shannon makes it all look so easy. She can handle baby Ollie and even get barking Barnaby to toe the line. But when Shannon and I are together, I feel as though I’m losing control all over again. She’s too young for me, too exuberant, too … Shannon. The logical part of me says I should hightail it back to London before anyone gets hurt. But there’s another part that says, What if …”

****

The Fortunes of Texas: Cowboy Country:

Lassoing hearts from across the pond!


Fortune’s Little

Heartbreaker

Cindy Kirk






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


From the time she was a little girl, CINDY KIRK thought everyone made up different endings to books, movies and television shows. Instead of counting sheep at night, she made up stories. She’s now had over forty novels published. She enjoys writing emotionally satisfying stories with a little faith and humor tossed in. She encourages readers to connect with her on Facebook and Twitter @cindykirkauthor (http://twitter.com/cindykirkauthor) and via her website, cindykirk.com (http://cindykirk.com).


This book is dedicated to some of my favorite Facebook friends and Fortunes of Texas fans:

Pamela Lowery

Deanna Vrba

Theresa Krupicka

Caro Carson

Nancy Greenfield

Veronica Mower

Mary Spicher

Dyan Carness

Brenda Schultes Bengard

Nancy Callahan Greenfield

Jennifer Faye

Sherri Shackelford

Ann Roth

Holmes Campbell

Michelle Major

Cheri Allan

Susan Meier

Betsy Ehrhardt

Kim Thomas

Laurie Brown

Deborah Farrand

Linda Conrad

Amanda Macfarlane

Lee Ann Kopp-Lopez


Contents

Cover (#ud61c09f5-5ad0-557e-85e1-da329d6cdf43)

Introduction (#u350071ae-c28f-53eb-8522-5ac0c46b0023)

Title Page (#u3b7018ba-1340-5412-971b-edbe4ac407f4)

About the Author (#u2e569aad-5230-564c-a20d-eed02acd92b0)

Dedication (#u6dc5d886-0ce7-5958-945c-4b92f2ed50f8)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#u4a659fbe-680c-5cbc-8cd9-f20a3a69a5ce)

Shannon Singleton took a sip of the Superette’s medium roast coffee and exhaled a happy sigh. Since returning to Horseback Hollow several months earlier, she’d come to realize how much she’d missed the town in north Texas where she’d grown up.

The postage-stamp eating area of the Superette consisted of three orange vinyl booths and two tables, each adorned with a bud vase of silk flowers. Nice, but no comparison to the cute little coffee shop Shannon used to frequent when she lived in Lubbock.

Still, the location was bright and cheery. Thanks to a wall of glass windows, Shannon even had a stellar view of the large pothole in the middle of the street.

“I wish they’d choose one of us and get it over with.” Rachel Robinson expelled a frustrated sigh and sat back in the booth.

Shannon enjoyed meeting her friend every Tuesday morning for coffee, but frankly was tired of obsessing over—and discussing—the job they both wanted.

It was a bit awkward, being in competition—again—with her friend. The other times Rachel had bested her, it had been over inconsequential things; like the last piece of dessert at the Hollows Cantina or the pair of boots they’d both spotted at that cute little boutique in Vicker’s Corners.

This time was different. This time the outcome mattered. Professional positions in this small town an hour south of Lubbock were few and far between. And Shannon really wanted the marketing job with the Fortune Foundation.

In the four years since graduation from Texas Tech with a degree in business, all of Shannon’s experience had been in marketing. Rachel had readily admitted she didn’t have experience in the marketing arena.

But that fact didn’t mean squat. Just as with those pretty turquoise boots, it seemed whenever she and Rachel competed for anything, Rachel came out ahead.

“Earth to Shannon.”

Shannon brought the cup to her lips and focused on her friend. She and Rachel were both in their midtwenties, had brown hair and similar interests. But that’s where the comparison ended. Shannon considered herself slightly above average while Rachel was stunning. “What? Rewind.”

“Wouldn’t it be cool if they hired us both?” Rachel smiled at the thought and broke off a piece of scone. The woman’s cheerful nature was just one of her many admirable qualities.

“I guess we’ll find out...but not until the end of February.” Shannon added more cream to her coffee, her tone pensive. “I don’t see why it has to take that long. They completed interviews last month.”

“It’s probably because they’re just getting this office location up and running,” Rachel said, sounding way too understanding.

Of course her friend could afford to be charitable. She had a job and was earning her way. Shannon was back living with her parents and, other than the chores she performed at the ranch for her mom and dad, had been out of work for over two months. “Just between you and me, I can’t believe they’re going to open a foundation branch in Horseback Hollow.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” Rachel laughed. “This town is turning into a Fortune family hot spot.”

The Fortunes were a wealthy family with business ventures all over the world. Their largest Texas base of operations was in Red Rock, just outside San Antonio. But there were also Fortunes in Horseback Hollow. Christopher Fortune Jones, who’d grown up in the area, would be heading the foundation branch in town.

“I’m tired of worrying about a job I might not get.” To soothe her rising stress level, Shannon bit into the scone. Oh, yeah, baby—sugar and blueberries, topped with a lemon glaze. Talk about stress eating. She could almost feel her waistline expand.

“Are you going to the party on Saturday?” Rachel asked, changing the subject.

The “party” was actually a couple’s baby shower being thrown by friends. The fact it was a couple’s baby shower practically guaranteed there wouldn’t be any unattached men attending. After all, what single straight guy would willingly give up his Saturday night to attend such an event?

“I promised Gabi I’d attend.” Shannon paused and narrowed her gaze. Outside, a sleek black car she didn’t recognize pulled into the lot. “My other choice is playing cards with my parents and their friends.”

Rachel gave an exaggerated shudder.

“It’s not that bad.” Shannon liked her parents and enjoyed the members of their card club. In fact, if she hadn’t given Gabi Mendoza her word she’d show, she’d be seriously tempted to skip the shower and play cards instead.

Rachel took a sip of her chai tea. “I’m crossing my fingers there’ll be some fresh meat at this little soiree.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” Shannon could have said more but pressed her lips shut. Let the woman have her dreams...

Rachel startled her by emitting a low whistle and pointing to the window. “Get a load of that.”

“I saw it.” Obligingly, Shannon leaned forward for a better look. Just south of the humongous pothole sat a shiny vehicle that cost more than she used to make in a year. It was rare to see such an expensive car in Horseback Hollow. “Mercedes.”

“Forget the car.” Though they were alone in the café, Rachel’s voice was soft, almost reverent. “Feast your eyes on him.”

Shannon swung her gaze from the sleek lines and shiny black finish of the SL250 to focus on the tall, broad-shouldered man with dark brown hair exiting the vehicle.

A man obviously on a mission, he rounded the back of the car with decisive steps. When he bent over to retrieve something from the backseat, Shannon’s lips curved.

“Ooh la la,” Rachel breathed.

For a second Shannon forgot how to breathe as the pristine white shirt stretched tight across the breadth of shoulders, muscular legs encased in dark trousers.

Shannon’s heart quivered. “If his face is half as good as his backside, we’re in for a treat.”

As if in answer to her prayer, the guy straightened and turned. Ooh la la, indeed. He had classically handsome features with a strong jaw, straight nose and cheekbones that looked as if they had been chiseled from granite. She’d wager his stylishly cut dark hair had never seen the insides of a Cut ’N’ Curl.

Yes, indeed, the man was an impressive hunk of masculinity even with sunglasses covering his eyes.

While the set of those shoulders and confident stance said “don’t mess with me,” messing with him was just what Shannon longed to do. Until she saw two little legs dangling from the blanketed bundle he’d pulled from the car.

Rachel expelled a heavy sigh, apparently seeing the evidence of daddy-hood, as well. “He’s got a kid.”

Her friend sounded as disappointed as Shannon felt.

“Figures he’d be taken.” Shannon heaved her own sigh. “The cute ones always are.”

“Marriage doesn’t stop some of them from sniffing around.”

“My old boss Jerry was a perfect example of that.” Even as she spoke, Shannon’s gaze returned to the dark-haired stranger.

“You taught Jerry the Jerk not to mess with you.”

Shannon just smiled and shrugged. Lately she’d begun to wonder if there was a way she could have handled the situation differently and kept her job.

Water under a collapsed bridge.

The man shut the door firmly, then stepped away, giving Shannon a glimpse of a furry head with perked-up ears, little paws braced on the dash. She couldn’t stop a smile. She loved animals almost as much as she loved children. “He’s got a dog, too.”

Rachel looked up from the text she’d glanced down to read. Apparently discovering the stranger had a kid had turned her initial interest to indifference.

“The hot guy has a kid and a dog,” Shannon told her friend.

“Bet you five he also has a wife with blond hair and a killer figure.” Rachel’s tone turned philosophical. “That’s practically a given with guys like him.”

Shannon grinned. “Aren’t you the cynical one?”

“Realist.” Rachel popped a bite of scone into her mouth. “I should have known he was too good to be single.”

Shannon rolled her eyes.

“He’s coming inside,” Rachel hissed.

Shannon turned in her chair just as the automatic doors of the Superette slid open.

Francine, the store’s lone cashier, was in the back of the store stocking shelves. Since they were the only customers, Frannie had told them to holler if someone showed and was ready to check out.

The man paused just inside the entrance and removed his sunglasses. He glanced at the empty checkout counter, impatience wrapped around him like a too-tight jacket. Shannon expected any second he’d start tapping his foot.

Shannon pulled to her feet and crossed to him, wishing she was wearing something—anything—besides jeans and a faded Texas Tech T-shirt. “May I help you?”

The man was silent for a second, staring at her. His eyes were a cool blue with a darker rim. Shannon forced herself to hold that piercing gaze.

“I find myself in need of some assistance,” he said after a couple of seconds, his smile surprisingly warm and charming. “My GPS has gone bonkers. I’m looking for a ranch called the Broken R.”

In addition to the killer smile, the man had a totally de-lish British accent. Shannon surreptitiously slanted a glance down but his ring finger was hidden beneath the blankets.

“Are you a relative?” Though Shannon didn’t like to pry, Rachel would kill her if she didn’t get at least one or two deets.

“I’m Jensen’s brother.” He adjusted his stance as the child beneath the blanket stirred. “Are you familiar with the location?”

Shannon couldn’t tell if the toddler was a boy or girl. The shoes were gray leather sneakers that could belong to either sex. The only thing she could see above the blanket was a thatch of slightly wavy brown hair.

“It’s super easy to find.” Shannon quickly gave him directions. She offered to write them down, but he told her there was no need.

“Thank you.” He smiled again and his whole face relaxed. “You’ve been very kind.”

Though she wanted to volunteer to ride with him and show him the way, Shannon resisted the temptation. Married men were not on her radar.

Still, she remained where she was and watched him stroll to the car. Once he reached the vehicle, she scurried over to where Rachel waited.

“Ohmigod.” Rachel’s eyes sparkled. “His accent is incredible.”

“The rest of him is pretty incredible too.” Shannon surreptitiously watched Jensen Fortune Chesterfield’s hot brother buckle the child into the seat. The blanket around the toddler fell to the concrete but was quickly scooped up.

“He’s definitely a boy,” she told her friend.

“You’re wrong.” Rachel chuckled. “That one is all man.”

“Not him. The kid. I couldn’t tell initially boy or girl, but he’s wearing a Thomas the Tank Engine shirt. Definitely a boy.”

“Who cares about the child?” Rachel fluttered her long lashes. “Did you hear that fantabulous British accent?”

“You said that before.”

“It bears repeating.”

The sleek black sedan backed up and headed out of the lot, careful to avoid the asphalt crater.

“It doesn’t matter.” Shannon sighed and turned her attention back to her scone. “Like you said, a guy that gorgeous has a beautiful wife somewhere.”

* * *

Oliver Fortune Hayes once had a beautiful wife. Then he’d had a beautiful ex-wife. Now, the stunningly beautiful blonde was gone.

“Diane was killed in a car accident two months ago,” Oliver told his brother Jensen. He kept his tone matter-of-fact, tamping down any emotion. “She was in the car with a man she’d been seeing for quite some time. He also died in the crash.”

The two men sat in Jensen’s kitchen, having a cup of tea. Thanks to the concise directions from the pretty brunette at the grocery shop, Oliver had easily found the Broken R ranch. Jensen had been surprised to see him a full twenty-four hours earlier than expected and apologetic that Amber was in Lubbock shopping.

Oliver looked forward to meeting his brother’s fiancée but appreciated the opportunity to talk privately first.

Jensen hadn’t changed much since Oliver had last seen him. His brother’s dark hair was perhaps a trifle longer but he was still the very proper British gentleman that Oliver remembered. Though the cowboy boots were a shock, Jensen’s gray trousers were perfectly creased, and his white dress shirt startlingly white.

“This is the first I’ve heard of Diane’s death. Why didn’t you call?” Jensen was his half brother from the second marriage of Oliver’s mother. Though seven years separated them in age, Oliver had always been fond of Jensen.

When Oliver had announced his intention to come to Horseback Hollow after their sister, Amelia, gave birth, Jensen had offered to let him stay at his ranch.

“My life has been topsy-turvy since the moment I found out.” He’d discovered Diane had died at a cocktail party when a mutual friend had expressed sympathy.

“I bet.”

Oliver continued as if Jensen hadn’t spoken. “Diane’s parents didn’t notify me. They took Ollie into their home even though they knew full custody immediately reverted to me upon her death. They kept my son from me.”

Jensen flinched at the underlying anger in his brother’s carefully controlled tone. “I’m surprised they didn’t put up a fight once you found out and arrived on their doorstep to claim him.”

“There would have been no point.” Oliver waved a hand. “I’m the child’s father.”

“Given your lifestyle, taking on a child had to be difficult.”

“Once I established a schedule, it went quite well,” Oliver said in a clipped tone, irritated his brother could think him incapable of caring for one small boy. “The nanny I hired is excellent and believes as strongly as I do in the importance of a routine. And she fully understood why I needed to make this trip. Unfortunately she refuses to leave the country.”

Jensen obviously had nothing to add. He didn’t have children. Not even a wife. Not yet anyway.

Oliver glanced down, noting Barnaby had fallen asleep at his feet. He only hoped his son was sleeping as soundly as the dog. The moment he’d arrived at the ranch, Oliver had put Ollie down for a nap. After a sixteen-hour flight from London to Lubbock the day before, even the brief respite in a hotel overnight hadn’t been enough sleep for a toddler.

His son had been fussy after the long flight and had kept Oliver up most of the night. Oliver had dreaded the forty-five-minute car ride from Lubbock to Horseback Hollow, but the child had fallen asleep while Oliver was strapping him into his car seat. He’d slept during the entire trip, not waking even when Oliver brought him inside and laid him on Jensen’s bed.

Jensen’s gaze dropped to the corgi. “What’s his name?”

“Barnaby.” Oliver wasn’t sure who was more surprised at the fondness in his voice, him or his brother.

“You don’t like dogs.”

“I’ve never disliked them,” Oliver corrected. “I simply never had time for one. Diane purchased Barnaby for Ollie when she left me. He’s quite attached to the animal.”

“You’re going to keep him?”

“Are you referring to Ollie? Or Barnaby?”

“Both.” Jensen grinned. “I’ve never considered you the kid or dog type.”

“Ollie is my son. My responsibility. When Diane and I split up, I thought our child’s needs would be better served living with her. That’s the only reason I didn’t fight for custody. I’ve already explained about the dog.”

Jensen stared contemplatively at the animal that had awakened and now sat, brown eyes scanning the room, ears perked up like two radio antennae.

“Corgis are herding animals.”

Oliver nodded. “I observed some of that behavior when he first came to live with me. But that’s no longer an issue.”

“You have the dog on a schedule, too.”

“Certainly.”

“Is Barnaby a dog that goes in and out?” Jensen asked in a tone that was a little too casual.

Oliver cocked his head.

“Could he be an outside dog?”

Oliver thought for a moment, considered. “He likes being outdoors, but I don’t believe he’s suited to roughing it.”

Jensen rubbed his chin. “That presents a problem.”

“How so?”

“Amber is allergic to dogs.” His brother grimaced. “Come to think of it, I probably shouldn’t have let the animal in the house.”

Ah, now Oliver understood. “No worries. I’ll stay with Mother.”

“You’re forgetting something, aren’t you?”

“Am I?”

“Mother is also allergic.” Jensen’s expression was solemn. “Remember the puppy Father brought home? She got congested and broke out in hives.”

Bugger. He’d forgotten all about that episode. He’d been older and away at boarding school, so the fact that the dog had to be returned to the breeder hadn’t affected him.

“It appears I’ll have to rent a suite at a hotel.” Oliver gave a shrug. “Is there one you’d recommend?”

Jensen gave a hoot of laughter. “You saw the extent of our business district when you stopped at the Superette.”

Was his brother teasing him? The way he used to when he was a bit of a boy? “I assumed the more populated area of the city was elsewhere.”

“Horseback Hollow isn’t a city, it’s a town. There are no hotels, motels or even any B and Bs.” Jensen’s expression sobered. “Right now there isn’t even a hotel in Vicker’s Corners. You’ll have to go all the way to Lubbock to find one.”

Oliver pressed his lips together. There was no way he’d flown across an entire ocean and half a continent to stay an hour away. Especially not with a child. The whole purpose of this trip was to spend time with family.

“There has to be a vacant house in the area,” he told his brother. “Do you have the name of a real estate broker I could contact?”

“Now?”

“Since Ollie and I don’t have accommodations for this evening, time is of the essence.”

His brother rose and went to a desk where he pulled out a thin phone book. “I suggest starting with Shep Singleton. He’s a local rancher and I believe he has an empty house on his property. I’m not sure if it would be satisfactory or what he’ll want for rent—”

“Money won’t be an issue if the house is clean and nearby.”

“It’s in a great location.” Jensen pulled his brows together as if picturing the place in his mind. “It may even have a fenced yard.”

“Do you have Mr. Singleton’s mobile number?” Oliver pulled the phone from his jacket, his fingers poised above the keypad. He wanted to inspect this home. One way or the other, he would secure appropriate lodging for him and his son, today.

Because Oliver Fortune Hayes was used to going after—and getting—what he wanted.


Chapter Two (#u4a659fbe-680c-5cbc-8cd9-f20a3a69a5ce)

Shannon swore under her breath. She and Rachel had plans to see a movie in Lubbock this evening, then check out a Mexican place that had recently opened in the Depot District. Instead she’d had to call her friend and cancel.

All because her father had gotten a call from someone interested in renting the empty ranch house on the property. Apparently that someone had to see it immediately. There was no telling how long this would take. Or who the impatient person would turn out to be.

Her father only had a name...Oliver. He wasn’t certain if that was the man’s first or last name, as he’d been distracted during the call. One of his prize mares was foaling.

Shep Singleton might be focused on Sweet Betsy but Shannon was still his little girl. He ordered her to take one of the ranch hands with her for safety. It made sense, but she hated to pry them away from their duties.

The odds of Mr. Oliver being a serial killer or crazed lunatic were next to nil. Besides, she’d had self-defense training and could hold her own.

When she pulled up in front of the home and saw a dusty Mercedes, a prickle of heat traveled up her spine. Surely it couldn’t be...

Even as she hopped out of her dad’s rusty pickup with the gash in the front end, the man from the Superette stepped from the vehicle. Ooh la la, he looked just as good as he had several hours ago and ready for business in his hand-tailored navy suit.

Smiling, Shannon crossed the gravel drive and extended her hand. “You must be Mr. Oliver?”

“Oliver Fortune Hayes,” he corrected, smiling slightly. “And you’re the helpful lady from the grocer’s.”

“Shannon Singleton.” She gave his hand a decisive shake. “Shep’s daughter. My dad said you wanted to check out the house.”

“Indeed.” Those amazing blue eyes settled on her, warm and friendly. “I appreciate you showing it on such short notice.”

What was left of her irritation vanished. “Happy to do it.”

He surprised her by turning back to the car. When he opened the back door and unfastened the boy from his car seat, she realized he hadn’t come alone. Once the child’s feet were firmly planted on the ground, the toddler looked around, gave an ear-splitting shriek and barreled after the corgi that had just leaped from the vehicle.

“That’s Ollie. My son,” Oliver told her, pride in his voice.

Oliver let the boy scamper a few yards before scooping him up. Ollie giggled and squirmed but settled when Oliver said something in a low tone.

“Barnaby.”

The crisp sound of his name had the corgi turning. Oliver motioned with his hand and the dog moved to his side.

He looked, Shannon thought, like a man totally in control of the situation.

Oliver gazed speculatively at the house. “Since your father knows I’m looking for immediate occupancy, I assume the home is empty.”

Shannon smiled. “You assume correctly.”

The entire tour of the furnished home took all of five minutes. If Shannon hadn’t been looking she might have missed the slight widening of Oliver’s eyes when he first stepped inside the three-bedroom, thirteen-hundred-square-foot ranch house Shannon’s grandparents had once called home.

Once she’d finished the tour, she rocked back on her boot heels, feeling oddly breathless. “What do you think?”

“I’ll take it.” Oliver put the boy down, reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet. “Sixty days with an option. I’ll pay in advance.”

“Just like that?” Decisiveness was one thing, but he hadn’t asked a single question. “Don’t you have any questions?”

“You’ve explained everything to my satisfaction.” He kept one eye on his son, who was hopping like a frog across the living room. “The fact is, I need to secure lodging close to my family.”

As Shannon opened her mouth, she wondered if she might be stepping over some line. But surely the man had other options. From what she’d observed of the Fortunes, they were a tight-knit family. “You’re not staying with them?”

“That was the plan. But apparently Amber—my brother’s fiancée—is highly allergic to dogs. As is my mother, which I’d very inconveniently forgotten.” He gestured with his head toward the corgi, who intently watched the hopping boy. “Ollie is very attached to Barnaby.”

“He’s a cutie. The boy, I mean. The dog is cute, too.” Shannon paused to clear the babble from her throat before continuing. “Will your wife be joining you?”

For just an instant a spark of some emotion flickered in his eyes before the shutter dropped.

“Ollie’s mother and I were divorced.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “Well, Ms. Singleton?”

“Please call me Shannon.”

“Well, Shannon. Do we have a deal?” He extended his hand.

When her fingers closed over his and a hot, unfamiliar riff of sensation traveled up her spine, something told Shannon that this deal might be more than she bargained for.

* * *

To Oliver’s way of thinking, money smoothed most rough patches and made life extremely manageable. Unfortunately, in the past few days he hadn’t found that to be as true as in the past. There hadn’t been anyone to carry in his bags or help him unpack once he’d closed the deal on the ranch house.

Oliver glanced around the small living room, smiling at the sight of Ollie playing with his A-B-C bricks, the dog supervising from his position under the kitchen table. The place was so small he could see the kitchen from where he stood. Unbelievably, there was only one lavatory in the entire structure.

Since it was just him and Ollie, even when they added a nanny, it would be workable. Not ideal, but they would make do, much the way he had on those school camping trips when he’d been a boy. He decided to view the next two months as an adventure.

Both Ollie and Barnaby seemed to like the small space. Even Oliver had to admit he found his temporary residence comfortable, quiet and surprisingly homey. Still, after two days of settling in, he was ready to get to work. For that to happen, he needed a nanny.

He’d made inquiries, as had various family members. So far, none of the women he’d interviewed had been acceptable. Oliver would also consider a manny, but when he’d mentioned that to the woman at the agency in Lubbock, her eyebrows had shot up. She informed him mannies were scarcer in Texas than rain in August.

Man or woman, Oliver didn’t care. He simply needed someone he could trust to tend to his son while he worked. He ran a busy brokerage firm in London. While he trusted and valued his employees, he prided himself on being personally involved with many of the firm’s larger clients.

Dealing with time zone issues was frustrating enough, but then to have Ollie call to him or start crying over his bricks tumbling down was totally unacceptable. There had to be someone suitable in the area.

His hopes of finding someone from Horseback Hollow were rapidly fading. Amber had given him a couple of names, neither of whom was willing to live in. What good would they be to him living a half hour away? With the time differences an issue, if he needed to go out or simply make a phone call, he didn’t want to wait.

The head of the placement agency guaranteed she’d find the perfect person, but kept asking him to give her more time. Well, he’d given her over two days. Since she couldn’t make it happen, he would take the reins.

He pulled out his wallet and removed the card Miss Shannon Singleton had given him to use in case of emergencies.

Oliver paused, considered. As far as he was concerned, being without a nanny for forty-eight hours qualified as an emergency.

* * *

Shannon stared at the phone in her hand for a second before dropping it into her bag.

Rachel slanted a questioning glance at her as they exited the movie theater in Vicker’s Corners. “Who was that?”

“Oliver Fortune Hayes.”

Shannon had told her friend all about playing rental agent with Mr. Fortune Hayes. Rachel had only one question—was he married?

“Mr. Hottie from the Superette.” Rachel’s smile broadened. “Tell me he called to ask you out.”

“I’m not exactly sure what he did.”

Shannon slowed her steps as the two women strolled down the sidewalk of the quaint community with its cute little shops with canopied frontage and large pots of flowers. “He said he had a proposition for me.”

A mischievous gleam sparked in Rachel’s eyes. “What kind of proposition?”

Shannon swatted her friend’s arm and laughed. “Not that kind.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Rachel gave her an admiring glance. “You’re a hottie, too. He’d be a fool not to be interested. And that man didn’t look like anyone’s fool.”

“Thanks for that.” Still, Shannon held no such illusions. If guys thought of her at all, it was as a buddy. She was twenty-five and had only had two boyfriends. Hardly a guy-magnet. “But remember, his home is in England. I want a nice local guy. Is that too much to ask?”

To Shannon’s surprise, Rachel didn’t go for the flippant response. Instead Rachel’s dark brows pulled together in thought. Her friend was a strikingly pretty woman, tall with big blue eyes and long hair so dark it looked almost black.

Though they were good friends, so much of Rachel was still a mystery. Sometimes when she turned serious and got this faraway look in her eyes, Shannon could only wonder what she was thinking.

“I love it here, too,” Rachel admitted. “I can’t imagine living anywhere else. So when you find that nice local guy, make sure he has a friend.”

“Will do. Just don’t hold your breath.”

Shannon stopped short of telling Rachel if her friend was back in Austin, she’d have men beating her door down. She still didn’t fully understand what had caused Rachel to leave Austin and move to Horseback Hollow. But in the five years that Rachel had been in town, she’d become part of the community.

“I’m not giving up hope. And you shouldn’t either. Look at Quinn,” Rachel continued. “Amelia shows up in Horseback Hollow and—boom—she and Quinn fall in love.”

Amelia Fortune Chesterfield had come to Horseback Hollow last year for a wedding and had a romantic fling with cowboy Quinn Drummond. Now they were married with a baby girl. It was their baby shower that loomed on the horizon.

“That whole thing was like a made-for-TV movie,” Shannon admitted. “But really, how often does that kind of thing happen, especially in a town the size of Horseback Hollow?”

“The fact is, oh ye of little faith, almost anything is possible. Hey, Mr. Oliver Fortune Hayes could fall in love with you, give up his home in London and the two of you could live happily ever after right here.”

Shannon paused in front of a bakery, inhaling the scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. “Have you seen a pig fly?”

“Pigs don’t fly,” Rachel said automatically.

“Exactly right,” Shannon agreed. “Until they do, your little scenario isn’t going to happen.”

* * *

Oliver glanced at the Patek Philippe watch on his wrist. His new living room was so small he could cross it in several long strides, which did nothing to dissipate his agitation.

He’d asked Miss Shannon Singleton to come over as soon as possible. That was precisely one hour and forty-five minutes ago. Oliver wasn’t used to his requests being ignored.

Of course, as she didn’t work for him, Miss Singleton was under no obligation to comply. Still, she’d promised to come as soon as she was able.

Another full hour passed. Ollie was sitting in his high chair, eating a snack of yogurt and apple slices, when Oliver heard the sound of a vehicle coming up the gravel drive.

Barnaby’s head jerked up. He let out a surprisingly deep woof, then raced to the front door, tail wagging.

Oliver tousled his son’s light brown hair. “Be right back.”

His hand was already on the doorknob when the knock sounded.

Looking decidedly windblown, Shannon stood on the porch, holding her flapping purse firmly against her waist as the strong breeze continued to pummel her. Her shoulder-length brown hair whipped around her pretty face and he realized her lips reminded him of plump, ripe strawberries.

He wondered if they’d taste as good as they looked.

She cleared her throat. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” Pulling his gaze from her lips, he stepped back and opened the door wider to allow her to pass.

“Whew.” She stopped at the edge of the living room to push her hair out of her face. “It’s like a hurricane out there.”

“Hurricane?” The wind couldn’t possibly be over thirty knots.

She laughed. “A figure of speech. If there’s a hurricane in the gulf, the only thing we get this far inland is rain. And that’s usually in the fall.”

Oliver found himself intrigued. Most women of his acquaintance would never think to appear at a requested meeting dressed in blue jeans and a white cotton shirt. Yet, he was oddly drawn to her. It didn’t hurt that she smelled terrific, like vanilla.

Yes, the beastly day was definitely on the upswing. “I appreciate you coming on such short notice.”

“I’m sorry it took so long.” She smiled up at him with such charming sweetness he found himself returning her smile and taking her arm as they strolled to the kitchen.

“You’re here now. That’s what counts.” He resisted the urge to brush back a strand of hair from her face, even as he inhaled the pleasing scent that wafted around her.

“My friend Rachel and I went to a movie in Vicker’s Corners. That’s where we were when you called. Then we went and got coffee at one of the little specialty shops. This time, we got ice cream, too. I told Rachel we shouldn’t. I mean we had a big lunch, but—”

He did his best to process her rapid-fire speech but it was as if she was speaking a foreign language. Apparently cueing in to his glazed look, she broke off and laughed without a hint of self-consciousness.

“I’m babbling.” She laughed again. “Which I sometimes do when I’m nervous.”

“I make you nervous?”

A bright pink rose up her neck. “A little.”

Truly puzzled now, he cocked his head. “Why?”

“You’re different from the men I know, the guys in this town.”

“My brothers live here. I’m not different from them.”

“I’m not well acquainted with your family. At least not with the ones from England.”

“Hopefully that will change.” Oliver gestured to the refrigerator. “May I get you something to drink?”

“Thanks. I’m fine.” She moved to Ollie’s side, the dog like a little shadow at her feet. Taking a seat at the table near the child, she smiled and picked up a piece of the apple. “This looks yummy.”

The toddler’s fingers closed around the apple slice. Her smile flashed with delight when he put it into his mouth and began to chew.

Oliver considered offering her something to eat, but rations were in short supply at the moment. He really needed to make a trip into town to the grocery shop they called the Superette.

“You said you had a proposition for me, Mr. Fortune Hayes?”

She was direct. Oliver admired that quality. Spared all the posturing.

“I’d like you to help me find a nanny for Ollie.”

Shannon leaned back in her chair and studied him for several seconds before speaking. “I thought you hired an agency in Lubbock to do that for you. That’s the buzz around town.”

Jensen had warned him there were no secrets in Horseback Hollow. “Their efforts so far have been disappointing.”

“You’ve been here two days.”

“It’s difficult to get work done when you’re caring for a child.”

Unexpectedly, Shannon laughed; a delightful sound that reminded him of bells ringing. “I don’t think any parent would contradict that statement.”

“The fact is, Miss Singleton—”

“Shannon,” she reminded him.

“Shannon.” He found the name pleasant on his tongue. “My business is a demanding one. While I’m happy to come and spend time with my family, I need to stay involved.”

“What is it you do?”

“I run a brokerage house.” It would be bragging to say more, to tell her that his firm was one of the top ones in London. Besides, it had no relevance to the current conversation.

“Oh.”

“The point is I need to find someone immediately. Of course, not just anyone will do. Ollie’s happiness and welfare is paramount. The women the agency has sent so far were totally inappropriate. This has caused me to doubt the adequacy of the agency’s screening process.”

“How were they inappropriate?” Shannon knew he’d acquired the services of the premier placement agency in Lubbock. To hear he was dissatisfied so quickly surprised her.

“The first woman hadn’t been informed this was a live-in position.” Oliver snatched from the air the piece of apple Ollie had tried to fling to a waiting Barnaby. “Interviewing her was a complete waste of my time.”

“Probably an oversight,” Shannon said diplomatically. “What else?”

“The next woman found the accommodations—” he hesitated for a second before continuing “—substandard. That didn’t concern me because I found her supercilious attitude unacceptable.”

“Many live-in nannies—” Shannon chose her words carefully since the lodging they were referring to was owned by her father “—require a private bath.”

“I completely understand her concern,” Oliver said briskly. “I’m not looking forward to sharing the lavatory either. I’d hoped the salary I was offering and the fact that it wouldn’t be a long-term placement would make that fact more palatable.”

“It must be difficult living in a home that is so far below your circumstances.”

He appeared to ignore her dry tone. “This home and Horseback Hollow may not be where I’d choose to live forever, but for the short term both are adequate.”

Shannon knew he was being kind and exceedingly tactful. But his comment only served to remind her that Oliver Fortune Hayes wouldn’t be like his sister, Amelia, or his brother Jensen, who’d come to Horseback Hollow and not only fallen in love with a local but with the town and its people, as well.

She had to keep that in mind. Despite the ooh la la factor, any relationship with Oliver would be a dead-end street.


Chapter Three (#u4a659fbe-680c-5cbc-8cd9-f20a3a69a5ce)

Oliver found himself enjoying his conversation with Shannon. She was obviously an intelligent woman who appeared to truly care about his situation.

“I asked Amelia for names since Amber and Jensen were fresh out of ideas.” Oliver paused and tilted his head. “Are you certain I can’t get you a refreshment?”

Shannon smiled. She had quite a lovely one. While her features were too strong to be considered classically beautiful, there was an arresting nature to her face that made a man—even one who’d sworn off women temporarily to focus on his son—take a second look.

Though he must admit, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen a woman in denim and cotton. Not to mention cowboy boots. The pants hugged her slender figure like a glove, and the shirt, though not tight, hinted at underlying curves. Yes, she was striking indeed.

“I guess I could take a cup of tea, if it’s not too much trouble.”

He was so focused on her lips that it took him a second to process. “No trouble at all.”

Oliver was putting the kettle on the stove when the doorbell rang.

“Would you like me to get that?” Even as she asked, Shannon was already rising to her feet with a fluid grace comparable to any of the ladies he knew back in London.

“Thank you, yes.” Oliver pulled his gaze from her backside and gave Ollie a biscuit. His son squealed with delight.

He heard Shannon speak, then recognized his brother’s voice.

Jensen strolled into the room, dressed casually—for him—in brown trousers and a cream-colored polo shirt. There was curiosity in his eyes when his brother’s gaze slid between him and Shannon. “I didn’t realize the two of you were acquainted.”

“Shannon showed me around this lovely home,” Oliver announced.

“That’s, ah, correct.” Shannon, who’d appeared relaxed only moments before, now appeared ready to bolt.

The fact puzzled Oliver. He’d been under the impression that while Shannon and Jensen weren’t well acquainted, they were on good terms.

“Will you have a cup?” Oliver asked his brother. “I have Fortnum & Mason.”

Jensen’s smile gave Oliver his answer, while Shannon’s brows pulled together.

“Fortnum & Mason is a popular British tea manufacturer. They have a Smoky Earl Grey blend that Oliver—and almost everyone in the family—prefers,” Jensen explained before Oliver could open his mouth.

“I’m sure it’s delicious, but I’ll have to pass.” Shannon appeared to make a great show of looking at her watch. “We can talk another time, Oliver. I have plans and I’m sure you and your brother have a lot to discuss.”

Oliver’s heart gave an odd lurch. He surprised himself by crossing the room, taking her arm and leading her back to her seat at the table. “Nonsense. You’re staying for tea.”

“Down,” Ollie called out. “Want down.”

“I can get—” Shannon began.

Oliver held up a hand, then fixed his gaze on his son. “What do you say?”

Ollie stared at him with innocent blue eyes before his mouth widened into a grin. “Pease.”

“Good man.” Oliver lifted his son down from the high chair.

Jensen exchanged a look with Shannon. “Amazing.”

Shannon cocked her head, but before Jensen could explain, Oliver looked up from wiping Ollie’s hands.

“Nothing amazing about it. Child rearing is no different from running a successful business enterprise. Rules and order are essential.” Oliver shifted his gaze to Shannon. “My brother expected me to be a bumbling feckwit incapable of rearing my son.”

Oliver pulled out a bin containing an assortment of toys, placing several before Ollie on the rug within eyeshot of the kitchen table. The whistling teakettle brought him back to the stove, where he produced three cups of the steaming brew in short order.

“Surely he’s seen you in action before?” Shannon cradled the “I Love Texas” mug in her hands with an unexpected reverence.

“Oliver only recently gained custody of Ollie,” Jensen explained. “After Diane...”

Jensen stopped and slanted Oliver an apologetic glance. In their family, private matters weren’t usually discussed in the presence of a guest.

“Diane was my ex-wife,” Oliver explained. “The divorce was already in process when Ollie was born. Because I believed a child—a baby especially—needed his mother, I didn’t fight her for custody. She recently died in a car accident.”

“She shouldn’t have been out that night.” Jensen’s voice rose and anger flashed in his eyes. “She should—”

“Enough.”

The quietly spoken word was enough to stop Jensen’s potential tirade in its tracks.

“She was Ollie’s mother.” Looking back, the person Oliver blamed most was himself. He should have paid more attention. He should have known that Diane was spending more time with her new boyfriend than with Ollie. “The accident occurred fairly recently.”

He felt Shannon’s hand on his arm, looked up to find her soft eyes filled with compassion. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“We’d been divorced over a year.”

“You were also once married to her. That means you once loved her.” She gave his forearm a squeeze, then removed her hand.

Oliver nodded briskly.

Diane hadn’t wasted any time finding another man once the baby was born. She’d been with yet another man when she died. That’s why the sadness he’d experienced upon hearing of her passing had blindsided him. He finally accepted it was understandable, given this was a woman he’d once known and loved.

Jensen steepled his fingers and his gaze settled on Shannon. “I understand you work for your father.”

“I do.” She sipped her tea and her smile told Oliver she found it pleasing. “The Triple S is a large spread. I do mostly administrative work, but in a pinch I’m able to do just about anything—feed cattle, vaccinate, castrate...”

“Good Lord.” The words popped from Oliver’s lips before he could stop them.

“You’re in the Wild West now, brother.” Jensen grinned. “Oh, and before I forget, I brought you some more names of possible nannies for Ollie. These are from Amelia since you didn’t appear happy with any of the ones Amber and I suggested.”

“I’m very particular when it comes to my son,” Oliver said without apology.

Jensen took a sip of tea, then lifted the mug higher to read the inscription—“This Ain’t My First Rodeo.” His lips twitched and he shook his head before taking another drink. Seconds later he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “The latest list.”

“Perfect,” Oliver pronounced. “We’ll take care of this right now.”

Jensen tilted his head back. “How do you propose to do that?”

“Miss Singleton knows everyone in the area.” Oliver smiled at Shannon. “She and I will go through the names over dinner and decide which ones to interview.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Shannon set down her mug, the flash of irritation in her eyes at odds with her easy tone. “I have plans.”

“Break them,” Oliver ordered. “This is more important. A child’s welfare is at stake.”

* * *

The men in Shannon’s family often told their friends that she was a contradiction: a purring kitten and a ready-to-strike rattler. The consensus seemed to be it was best not to push her too far.

The good humor drained from Shannon’s body. Did the rich and powerful Oliver Fortune Hayes really think he could, with a cavalier wave of his hand, dismiss her plans for the evening?

There was no reason for him to know that those plans were fluid. Several friends planned to eat and drink their way through platters of nachos and bottles of Corona beer at the Hollows Cantina during happy hour. They’d told her to join them if she was free.

But as Shannon opened her mouth to reiterate she had plans, his words gave her pause. As much as she didn’t want Oliver to think he could bring her to heel with a single wave of those elegant fingers, she wanted him to find a suitable nanny for Ollie.

You’d think after growing up with four younger siblings—and years spent babysitting—she should be tired of children. But she loved them. Not just the small ones. She even got a kick out of the often obnoxious teenagers from Lubbock who came out to ride horses as part of a Country Connection program.

Ollie was such a cute little guy and he’d recently lost his mother...

“Shannon.” Oliver reached across the table and took her hand. “Please. I need your help.” His tone was softer this time.

Heat rose up her arm. For a second she forgot how to speak. She licked her lips. When his eyes darkened, her resistance melted into a liquid pool.

“I’d love to stay and chat, but Amber is expecting me.” Jensen attempted to hide his grin by raising the cup to his lips for one last swallow. “It appears you two have a lot to, uh, discuss.”

Shannon flushed. “Be sure to tell Amber hello from me.”

“I will give her your regards.” Jensen gave a slight bow of his head, all serious now. One hundred percent British. He turned and handed Oliver the promised list. “The names.”

“Thank you.” Oliver took the list in his left hand, extended his right. The two men shook.

Shannon blinked at the civilized gesture. She tried to imagine her brothers shaking hands and...couldn’t. Punching each other, heck yes. That occurred on a daily basis.

Because the men were standing, she also rose to her feet. Jensen shook her hand before he left.

With a resigned sigh, Shannon turned to Oliver. She had to admit she was curious whom Amelia had recommended. She gazed pointedly at the list dangling from his fingers. “May I see it?”

With paper in hand, Shannon wandered back to the table and sat. Taking a gulp of tea, she narrowed her gaze and scanned the names.

After putting down a few more toys for Ollie, Oliver took a seat across from her.

“What do you think?” he asked when several seconds had passed. “Any good possibilities?”

Shannon laid the paper on the table and sat back. “Do you want tactful? Or honest?”

Oliver’s gaze lingered on her face, and a curious energy filled the air. An invisible web of attraction wrapped around them. When he leaned forward, Shannon was sure he was going to kiss her.

Unable to move, she held her breath and stared into those brilliant blue eyes.

His lips were a heartbeat away when little Ollie let out a high-pitched squeal. Shannon turned her head just in time to see him gleefully knock down the stack of blocks.

Though he’d recently lost his mother, the child appeared happy and content, with the dog sitting upright beside him. Right now all was well in his life, and that warmed her heart. But the little boy’s world could quickly take a nosedive if Oliver hired any of the women Amelia had suggested.

She shifted her gaze back to Oliver. The moment had vanished. It was almost as if it had never existed. This made Shannon wonder if it had been simply wishful thinking on her part.

“Quinn isn’t much for gossip and your sister is relatively new to Horseback Hollow.” Shannon strove to keep her tone matter-of-fact. “I grew up here. I keep my ear to the ground.”

The expression seemed to puzzle Oliver. His dark brows pulled together.

“I know everything that goes on in this town,” she clarified. “Things your sister and even her husband might not know.”

Understanding filled his eyes. “Tell me.”

“Will you keep it confidential?” Though Shannon liked to have the scoop, she wasn’t a gossip. Okay, not much of one. The only reason she was considering sharing what she knew with Oliver was to protect Ollie.

“Most certainly.”

Based on what Shannon had observed, Oliver appeared to be an honorable man who loved his son and wanted the best for him.

Hoping she wasn’t making a mistake dissing women his sister had recommended, Shannon went through the names on the list one by one. By the time they’d gone through three, Ollie had tired of his toys and was rubbing his eyes and whining. Barnaby sprawled on a nearby rug, snoring lightly.

“Let’s break for a few minutes.” Oliver rose to his feet. “I need to change Ollie’s nappy and put him down for a kip.”

He inclined his head, and she knew what he was asking without him saying a word.

“I’ll wait.”

“Your dinner plans?”

“No worries.” Though it was almost five and the start of happy hour was seconds away, Shannon was no longer in a hurry to leave. “While you’re taking care of Ollie, I’ll make us another cup of that delicious tea.”

“Thank you.”

When he and his son disappeared down the hall, Shannon sent a quick text to her friends, canceling her appearance, then put the kettle on. By the time he returned from the bedroom, the tea was ready.

“How is he?” She placed the two cups on the table.

“Dry and sleeping.” He gestured toward the steaming tea. “Thank you for that...and for staying.”

“I let my friends know I’d be late.” She raised a hand when he started to protest. “I want to finish this with you. We only have two names left.”

He studied her for a long moment before dropping his gaze down to the list and pointing. “What about this one?”

“Sally Steinacher drinks.” When Oliver opened his mouth, she continued. “Not just socially. She has a problem. The family did an intervention last year and she went through treatment, but she’s fallen off the wagon. Last week when I was in Vicker’s Corners, I spotted her coming out of a liquor store with a sack.”

“Perhaps she was buying for a friend or a family member,” Oliver suggested.

Shannon gave him a pitying glance. “What kind of friend or relative would send an alcoholic to buy them liquor? Even if someone were that stupid, Rachel and I ran into her later on the street and we both smelled alcohol on her breath.”

Oliver lined through her name with a single precise stroke of his Montblanc pen, the same way he’d done with the previous three names. “We’ve now reached the last person on the list. Is Cissy Jirovec a possibility?”

The hopeful look in his eye vanished when Shannon shook her head.

“She used to live in Horseback Hollow. Cissy calls Vicker’s Corners home now. She’s a nice person and I know she did a lot of babysitting while she was growing up.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

There was something about having those vivid blue eyes focused on her that Shannon found unsettling. “The problem isn’t with Cissy. It’s with her boyfriend.”

“I wouldn’t be hiring him.”

“Wayne used to live in Horseback Hollow. He has a bad temper.”

“What does her relationship with this man have to do with her suitability for the position?”

“Wayne has a child from a relationship with another woman in Lubbock. Several years ago he lost his temper and broke his daughter’s arm. The doctors in the ER found other healed injuries when they examined the little girl. He was charged with felony child abuse. I read all about it in the Lubbock paper.”

“He did this to his own child?”

“He did.” Shannon nodded solemnly. “I would hope Cissy wouldn’t invite Wayne over while she was watching Ollie. But if Ollie were my son, I wouldn’t take the risk.”

Just as he had with the previous four names, Oliver drew a line through Cissy’s name. With one hand he crumpled the sheet of paper.

“I might have hired one of these women.” There was a look of restrained horror on his face.

“On the surface they look good. But, don’t despair. The placement agency you’re working with is top-notch. They’ll do a good job of screening the candidates for you.” She offered him a reassuring smile. “You’ll find that right someone soon.”

Oliver shook his head. “I think I’ve just found her. I want you to watch Oliver.”

“Pardon me?”

“Name your price.”

“Mr. Fortune Hayes—”

“Oliver,” he interrupted, offering her a smile that turned her bones to liquid. “If we’re going to be living under the same roof, it makes sense to be on a first-name basis.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “What are you saying?”

“We should be on a first-name basis. Don’t you agree?”

“I—I suppose.”

“Splendid.” The smile that split his face made him look almost boyish. “Shall we shake on it...Shannon?”


Chapter Four (#u4a659fbe-680c-5cbc-8cd9-f20a3a69a5ce)

“Shake on what? I haven’t agreed to any deal.” Shannon stuck her hands behind her back. Thank goodness the words came out casual and offhand.

“Smart woman. It’s always best to discuss terms on the front end.” He leaned forward in a companionable gesture, resting his forearms on the table.

The gesture somehow made him seem more approachable and appealing. Although if he got much more appealing, Shannon might jump him and rip off that pristine white shirt and perfectly knotted tie.

When Shannon didn’t speak, he simply smiled. “You obviously know your negotiating techniques. Okay, I’ll toss out an amount.”

“We’re not negotiating,” Shannon protested. “Look, Mr. Fortune Hay—”

“Oliver,” he said, once more not playing fair by flashing that enticing smile. “We decided on first names.”

“Okay, Oliver.” Shannon raked back her hair with her fingers, her heart pounding. Why did she feel as if she was in a race she was destined to lose? A race that, in some ways, she wanted to lose? “I—”

Before she could say more, he tossed out a number that had her forgetting what she’d been about to say.

“I believe that’s a fair offer.”

“Per...?” She really didn’t want to say per month if he meant every two weeks, but it was an amazing sum of money either way.

“Week.”

Shannon tried to control her expression by counting to ten in her head. The amount was five times what she’d been making in Lubbock. She swallowed past her suddenly dry throat and shifted in her seat. “If you’re offering to pay that much, I’m surprised you don’t have women—and men—beating down the door to work for you.”

“That’s not the salary the agency suggested. They told me the going rate in the area and I agreed to it.” His gaze searched her eyes. “I’m a businessman, Shannon. I’m willing to pay for quality. It’s as simple as that.”

Shannon never considered she could be bought, but then again she’d never been offered so much money for a position she knew she’d enjoy. Working for her father was fine, but he really didn’t need her. Little Ollie did.

Oliver turned his head slightly to the side. “What do you say?”

Shannon wiped suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans. “Before we discuss salary any further, I’d like to know your expectations.”

He nodded approvingly and studied her for another long moment.

“Timewise, London is six hours ahead of Horseback Hollow.” He gestured with an open palm to the clock on the wall in the shape of a rooster. “This means that much of my business will be conducted very early in the morning. That’s why living in is nonnegotiable.”

“I could come first thing in the morning, say at six a.m.” She’d almost said five, but that was her father’s favorite time to roll out of bed, not hers.

“That won’t work.” Oliver tapped a finger on the table. “If I’m speaking with a client at two a.m. and Ollie starts crying and needs attention, I need someone here who can tend to him.”

“He could spend the night with me at my parents’ home.” The words came out in a rush, before she even considered what her folks might think about having a toddler underfoot. All she knew was the idea of being under the same roof with Oliver Fortune Hayes night after night was...disturbing. “That way, you could conduct business without any interruptions at all.”

When she finished speaking, Oliver shook his head. The set of his jaw said there would be no changing his mind. “I want Ollie’s schedule to be disrupted as little as possible. If I hadn’t already canceled other trips to see my family, I’d have canceled this one and remained in London. Ollie has experienced more changes in the past few months than any little boy should have to face.”

“You care about him.”

Oliver looked perplexed. “Did you think I didn’t?”

Well, she wanted to say, sometimes you treat him like just one more thing in your life you need to handle. But she knew that wasn’t being fair. Her interaction with Oliver and his son had been minimal.

“No, of course not.” Shannon blew out a breath. “You’re probably right about not injecting more change into his life.”

He relaxed in his chair. “Any other concerns you’d like to discuss?”

Shannon cleared her throat. “What about meal preparation, laundry and housecleaning duties? Would those be something you’d expect from me?”

“Negotiable.”

“I would need time off.”

“I’m not a slave driver, Shannon.” His lips lifted in a boyish smile before he became all business again. “At a minimum I would require you to be here between the hours of midnight to noon, Monday through Friday. However, I’d prefer that during the working week you remain on duty until six p.m. That would allow me to have some sleep knowing Ollie is safe under your care.”

Though he was proposing some pretty long hours, she would have every evening free. Other than Rachel, most of her friends worked eight-to-five jobs, and this really would be no different. “What about weekends?”

“Those days are yours.”

She tapped her index finger against her bottom lip. “It’s tempting.”

“I’d like you to start immediately.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Bucko.” The word, commonly used by Shannon and her sibs, slipped out before her lips could trap it and swallow it whole.

“Bucko?” Oliver raised one dark brow. “I don’t believe I’m familiar with the term.”

His lips twitched ever so slightly.

Sheesh, the guy was appealing. And that was part of her concern.

Shannon jerked her gaze from those lips and squared her shoulders. There was no getting around it. The elephant in the room had to be addressed. “There’s one thing we haven’t yet discussed. How you respond may be the difference between my accepting your offer or respectfully declining it.”

Oliver’s eyes turned flat. He folded his hands before him on the table, his gaze never wavering from her face. “You have my undivided attention.”

The fact that Oliver was being so businesslike should have made it easier to spit out the words stuck in her throat. But somehow, having those blue eyes focused so intently on her made her feel like a schoolgirl about to admit to a crush. Dear God, what if she’d only imagined the chemistry between them?

Shannon shifted in her seat and hesitated, despite knowing there was nothing to do at this point but take a deep breath and plunge ahead.

She focused her gaze on a spot over his left shoulder. “Ever since we’ve met, I’ve noticed this crazy kind of electricity between us. That’s why I think it’s important we agree up front to keep things strictly platonic between us. Giving in to the attraction would only complicate the situation.”

She was out of breath by the time she finished. Had he been able to understand what she was trying to say? She’d spoken so fast—too fast—the words tripping over each other in her haste to get them out.

“Electricity?”

Of course if he was going to pick one word to focus on, it would naturally be that one. But it was the twinkle in those blue eyes that had her jerking to her feet, a hot flush shooting up her neck.

“Forget it. Forget I said anything. This isn’t going to work.” To her horror, her voice shook slightly.

It wasn’t the hint of amusement in his eyes that had gotten to her. It was the frustration of not being able to make herself heard. Of her concerns and feelings being summarily dismissed.

That’s how it had been with Jerry the Jerk. No matter how many different ways she’d told him to back off—that she wasn’t interested—he never heard her.

Because he didn’t want to hear what I had to say. Because I didn’t matter.

As emotions flooded her, Shannon whirled toward the door.

She’d taken only a step or two when Oliver grabbed her arm, his expression contrite.

“I didn’t mean to wind you up.” He loosened his grip but didn’t let go. “You have my word as a gentleman that I will never take advantage of you while you’re under my roof and in my employ.”

Shannon blew out a shaky breath and swayed slightly, conscious of his hand on her arm. He stood an arm’s breadth away, near enough for the intoxicating scent of his cologne to tease her nostrils and make her want to lean close.

Step back, she told herself. She needed to put some distance between her and Oliver. That way she could think. That way she could breathe.

But her feet were as heavy and unmoving as if rooted in concrete. At that moment Shannon didn’t have the energy—or the desire—to move.

Instead she tilted her head back and once again found herself drowning in the shockingly blue depths of Oliver’s eyes.

Oliver stepped toward her, hand outstretched.

The heat in his gaze ignited a fire in her belly.

A zillion butterflies fluttered in her chest. Shannon moistened her lips and, as she caught another whiff of his cologne, reconsidered her hardline stance of only a moment ago.

One kiss.

What would really be wrong with one little kiss?

After all, people shook hands all the time to seal a deal. How would this be any different? Even as the rational piece of her brain still capable of cognizant thought told her it was indeed very different, she extended her hand.

Shannon waited for him to take her fingers and tug her to him. Waited for that magic moment when he would enfold her in a warm embrace before covering her mouth with his...

Her lips were already tingling with anticipation when his hand closed over hers and he gave it a decisive shake. “To new beginnings.”

Even as a tsunami-sized wave of disappointment washed over her, Shannon forced herself to breathe and made her lips curve in an easy smile.

Regroup, she told herself.

Her father always said actions spoke louder than words. By his actions, Oliver had shown he was a man of his word. A man she could trust. There was something even more important Shannon had learned today.

She had more to fear from herself than from him.

* * *

Happy Hour at the Hollows Cantina had been going for close to two hours by the time Shannon strolled through the front door. She wasn’t surprised to find standing-room-only in the bar area.

Her friends tried to squeeze her in at their table, but even if she could have located a spare chair, there was no room for one more.

“That’s okay.” Shannon waved a hand in the direction of the bar. “I’ll just mingle.”

“I’m coming with you.” Rachel’s heels had barely hit the shiny hardwood before her chair was snatched away.

Good old Rachel, Shannon thought with a warm rush of affection. She could always count on her.

The two women wove their way through the crowd, stopping every few feet to chat with friends and acquaintances while keeping an eye out for a couple of empty spots at the bar. They finally snagged two stools when a young couple got up abruptly and hurried off, hands all over each other.

“Get a room,” someone yelled, and laughter rippled through the crowd.

A bartender approached to wipe the counter and take their order.

“The nachos are my treat,” Shannon announced.

Rachel narrowed her gaze. “What’s got you feeling so generous?”

“Tonight is a special occasion.” Shannon smiled her thanks as the bartender placed a bottle of Corona beer sporting a wedge of lime in front of her. Before he rushed off he assured her the nachos would be out shortly. “We’re celebrating.”

The half-finished bottle Rachel had brought with her from the table paused midway to her lips and a smile blossomed on her mouth. “You know I adore happy news. Clue me in. What are we celebrating?”

Shannon raised the beer in a mock toast. Initially she’d been hesitant about accepting Oliver’s offer. But now she felt confident of her ability to withstand temptation. “My new job.”

Rachel’s smile froze. Then she clinked her bottle against the one Shannon held and sputtered out her congratulations.

“Thanks. I’m superjazzed.” The position was all about Ollie, she reassured herself. She had no doubt she and the boy would get along splendidly. Shannon would not think about the way her heart hammered whenever Oliver was near.

“When did they call you?”

The quietly spoken question came out of nowhere. Shannon blinked and focused on her friend. “Who?”

“The person who contacted you about the Fortune Foundation job.” Rachel cleared her throat. “When did you get the good news?”

The bartender, a thirtysomething-year-old with a shaved head, set a plate of loaded nachos in front of them.

“I never thought they’d choose someone this soon,” Rachel continued before Shannon had a chance to respond. “But, hey, if it couldn’t be me, I’m happy it was you.”

“This isn’t the foundation job. They won’t let us know until the end of the month, remember?” Shannon picked up a chip dripping with cheese and nibbled. “I’m going to be a nanny to Oliver Fortune Hayes’s son. It’s short-term but the position pays extremely well.”

“Oh.” The tightness on Rachel’s face eased. “When do you start?”

“I move in Sunday night.” Shannon popped the nacho into her mouth. “I asked him for a few days to get my stuff together and my bags packed.”

“You’re moving in with him?” Rachel’s voice rose.

Shannon quickly explained about the time difference and the need to be there to watch Ollie while Oliver was conducting business.

“How did your folks take the news?”

A twinkle of amusement danced in Rachel’s eyes. Like most Horseback Hollow natives, her friend knew Shannon’s parents were a bit on the conservative side.

Shannon grimaced, not looking forward to that conversation. “They don’t know. Not yet. I was at Oliver’s place until I came here. All I can do is assure them it’s strictly business between us.”

“Easy peasy.” Rachel waved a dismissive hand. “Five minutes in his presence and they’ll see it couldn’t be anything but business.”

Shannon frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“Think about how he stands, so straight and tall. It’s like he’s got a poker up his a—” Rachel stopped abruptly when she saw Pastor Dunbrook two stools away. She lowered her voice. “I’m just saying that while Oliver may look smokin’ hot—and sound just as good as he looks—he has that British thing going.”

“British thing?”

“Stiff upper lip and all that. Jolly good and tally-ho.” Rachel tapped two fingers against her lips. “Kissing him would probably be like kissing a corpse.”

As if Rachel’s attempt at a proper British accent wasn’t hilarious enough, her describing Oliver as a cold fish made Shannon laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Rachel tilted her head, and a speculative gleam shone in her eyes. “Have you already kissed him?”

“Ra-chel.” The name was said with just the right touch of injured emotion and appeared to allay her friend’s suspicions. “I barely know the man.”

“That wouldn’t stop me if I was interested in a guy.”

“Well, I’m not interested in Oliver, not in that way. This is strictly a business arrangement.”

“Then why did you laugh?”

“Because I don’t see Oliver as being a cold fish.”

“Yeah, right.”

“No. Seriously. He’s simply...British.”

Rachel rolled her eyes and swiped a nacho off the plate.

“Okay, so maybe he’s a bit uptight,” Shannon admitted. “But it wouldn’t take much to loosen him up.”

“You go for it, sister.” Rachel’s red lips focused on something in the distance then curved upward in a sly smile. “In fact, there’s no better time to start than right now.”

“Other than I’m occupied, enjoying this scrumptious plate of nachos and—” Shannon lifted the Corona “—this ice-cold beer with you. Oliver, on the other hand, is—”

“Right behind you.”

“What?”

“Turn,” Rachel ordered.

Shannon swiveled on the bar stool. She inhaled sharply and her heart began pumping in time to the sexy salsa beat.

The man she’d been chatting with less than an hour earlier stood in the lobby. Ollie stood fidgeting at his side while Oliver chatted amiably with Wendy Fortune Mendoza and Marcos Mendoza, owners of the cantina. Wendy, looking as stylish as ever in a wrap dress of bright red with matching five-inch heels, clasped the hand of her three-year-old daughter, MaryAnne.

Even as Shannon’s eyes were drawn to MaryAnne’s adorable pink-and-white-striped dress, she couldn’t help noticing the way Marcos’s hand rested lovingly on his wife’s shoulder or how hot Oliver looked.

He’d changed his clothes, wearing yet another dark suit but this time coupled with a gray shirt and charcoal tie. Odd he hadn’t mentioned he had plans for the evening. He certainly hadn’t acted as if he was in a rush for her to leave. Quite the contrary.

“Time to start warming up the iceberg,” Rachel said in a low tone.

“Saying hello would be the polite thing to do,” Shannon agreed, ignoring Rachel’s snort of laughter.

Placing her Corona bottle down, Shannon hopped off the stool and pulled a small round mirror from her bag. Before taking a step, she touched up her lipstick, then flashed Rachel a smile. “Back in five.”

Rachel lifted a nacho heavy with beef and cheese and gestured to the platter. “Just warning you, these may be all gone when you get back.”

“I will return to find both the nachos and my seat waiting.” Shannon pointed at her friend and spoke in an ominous voice suitable for any horror flick. “Or you will pay the price.”

“No guarantee, Chickadee.” Rachel peered over the Corona bottle at Shannon and those baby blues twinkled. “If some sexy cowboy wants that stool, those chips or me, I’m sayin’ yes.”

Shannon ignored the warning and turned, anticipation fueling her steps as she headed across the hardwood floor toward Oliver.


Chapter Five (#ulink_8e9d8c19-07b3-598a-8d91-a779618fc4af)

Though Oliver hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Wendy Fortune Mendoza before tonight, he was well aware she was one of his Texas cousins. The minute he walked into the Hollows Cantina, she greeted him warmly. Since she and her husband owned the cantina, Oliver assumed Wendy and Marcos were cohosting the last-minute party his mother, Josephine, had organized.

But Wendy informed him that she and Marcos wouldn’t be able to stay. Even though they couldn’t attend, they’d made the restaurant’s private room available for the impromptu dinner.

“I’m happy to have the opportunity to meet you.” Marcos, a tall man in a perfectly tailored suit with piercing dark eyes, gave Oliver’s hand a firm shake.

From what Oliver had heard, Marcos was a savvy businessman, yet it was clear, seeing him with his wife and daughter, that family was also important to him. A man would have to be blind not to notice the loving way Marcos’s gaze lingered on Wendy.

“I don’t know if you heard but I’ve secured lodging at a ranch house on the Singleton property. I’ll be there for the duration of my stay in Horseback Hollow.” Oliver dropped his gaze and shot Ollie a warning glance when the child began tugging on his hand. “Stop by sometime. Bring your daughter. Ollie seems to enjoy being around other children.”

“Wonderful. I’ll call you this week and we’ll set something up.” Wendy started to say more but shifted her attention and smiled brilliantly. “Shannon. It’s been ages.”

Oliver turned to see Wendy give his new nanny a quick hug. She slipped an arm through Shannon’s and lifted her gaze to Oliver. “I’m not sure if you’ve had a chance to meet Shep’s daughter—”

“Introductions are unnecessary.” Oliver offered Shannon a warm smile. “Miss Singleton and I are well acquainted.”

Wendy exchanged a glance with her husband.

“Just this afternoon Shannon agreed to be Ollie’s live-in nanny,” Oliver announced.

Astonishment rippled across his cousin’s pretty face. “Why, that’s wonderful.”

“Live-in?” Marcos’s dark eyes narrowed. “Your father approves of this plan?”

“I’m twenty-five, Marcos,” Shannon said drily. “I hardly need my father’s okay.”

“He’s your father,” Marcos said pointedly.

“Living in is necessary because of the time difference between here and London.” Shannon quickly explained the circumstances, ignoring Marcos’s disapproving glance and focusing on Wendy instead.

“Because of that six-hour difference, most of Oliver’s business will be conducted during the overnight hours,” Shannon continued before Oliver could add anything. “As a toddler, Ollie can’t be counted on to sleep through the night.”

“We know all about sleepless nights.” Wendy shot a teasing glance at her husband. “Remember when MaryAnne was that age?”

Marcos nodded but his gaze remained troubled.

For the first time, Oliver considered what Shep Singleton would think of his daughter living under the roof of a man he didn’t know. Would he understand that it was a simple business arrangement? Or would he worry Oliver might take advantage of Shannon?

Shep had been pleasant and accommodating when Oliver had called to inquire about the house. A personal visit to the Singleton home appeared necessary. Oliver would introduce himself, explain the situation and allay the man’s fears before Shannon moved in on Monday.

He was planning his strategy when his mum, Josephine Fortune Chesterfield, breezed through the door, a vision in pale blue silk. Her gray hair, arranged in a chignon, flattered her handsome face. “I’m here. The party can begin.”

She extended both hands and moved quickly to him. “Oliver.”

“You look lovely as always.” He took her hands in his then bent to brush a kiss against her cheek.

“Good evening, Wendy. Marcos.” His mother’s curious gaze settled on Shannon. “You’re Shannon Singleton, Shep and Lilian’s daughter. Am I correct?”




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