Cattle Baron: Nanny Needed by Margaret Way Read Free Book Online Page A

dear little Georgie—up until her dicey marriage—live with Grandpop?”
    “You’ve got it.”
    Those distracting little sexy brackets at his mouth again. “So it’s more than likely Georgie and Sean will move into the mausoleum when they return from Europe?” She was able to raise a blasé brow.
    “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised. It’s a ‘till death us do part’ situation with Georgie and her mother.”
    “Poor thing! Even I can feel sorry for her. But not for Sean. How did he pass muster with your people anyway? Your grandfather is rumoured to have the hardest nut in town. Rosemary could have been a pushover. Sean can be very good at buttering up the women.” Even a Brunhilde.
    “Forget them,” he said. “It’s you I want to hear about. From the beginning. You must have been an extraordinarily pretty baby.”
    “My dad thought so.” She couldn’t stop a tender smile breaking out when tears still ran down the walls of her heart. “It was he who named me Amber. My mother wanted to call me Samantha.”
    “Then you’d have got Sam for short.”
    “So you think he made a better choice?”
    “Amber suits you.” His eyes were very bright. “You’re an only child?”
    “Yes.”
    “And your parents?”
    She sighed deeply. “I lost my dad when I was fourteen. A teenage driver ran the red light and collected him in a crossing. He could have saved himself but he chose to save a child instead. A little boy and his mother were on the crossing at the same time. There could have been more people hurt.’
    “I’m so sorry, Amber.” He reached over to grip her hand, divining her sense of loss. “It’s brutal losing a much loved parent.”
    “It is that.” Her topaz eyes misted with tears. “My mother remarried the year I finished school. Needless to say, I didn’t take to my new stepfather, though he’s not a bad guy. Not my dad, though. I lived on campus through my university days. Not much to tell about the rest. I became a cadet journalist. Got a break on television. I guess the way I look has kept me there.”
    “You’re being hard on yourself. Didn’t you win a prestigious award for your article about street kids? It couldn’t have been easy going into tough places. Exploring the drug scene, the Dead On Arrivals presenting at hospital, the hopelessness and deep depression.”
    “What do you think?” Unshed tears continued to shimmer in her eyes. “Some are born to sweet delight, some are born to endless night.”
    He nodded. ‘You’re still in touch with your mother?”
    “Of course. I love my mother. But I don’t see her as much as I’d like. They live in Cairns. They love the tropics, close to the Reef. My stepdad has money and a big motor cruiser. They take lots of trips because he’s retired. Tell me about you.”
    “Me?” His mouth faintly twisted.
    “Yes, you. You sound like you know all about missing a parent.”
    “It happens I do. Like you, I lost my dad, a little over four years ago. He ignored a gash in his arm until it was too late. Lots of barbed wire around the station. Died of septicaemia in a very short time.”
    “How terrible!” Amber felt moved to exclaim. “Couldn’t your mother have made him see a doctor? Men can be so careless with their injuries.”
    “He’d had his shots. We all have them but the effects must have worn off. My mother left us for a guy I called Uncle Jeff for years of my childhood. So, no mother, no guardian angel. I was away at a trade conference when it happened.”
    “So you know all about having a hard time?”
    “I learned. I grew tough.”
    “Well, you may appear tough—”
    “Do I?” His look was very direct.
    “In a striking sort of way. But you have a heart of gold. You’ve been very kind to me.”
    “What’s kind about taking a beautiful woman out to dinner?” he asked, then issued a quiet warning. “Don’t look up. The people at the table over there haven’t taken their eyes off us since we walked