That evening, Joa was still irritated with Keely but that didn’t stop her from taking the glass of red wine Keely waved under her nose. She was still mad at her foster sister for being so damn high-handed, for volunteering Joa to be the very sexy Ronan Murphy’s nanny...
Keely had always been as bossy as hell, but they were adults now and she had no right to interfere in Joa’s life.
So if that was the case, why hadn’t she flat-out refused?
Keely dropped into the corner of the sofa in the library of Mounton House and put her feet on the coffee table, her sock-covered toes pointing in the direction of the wood fire crackling in the elaborate fireplace. “God, it’s cold out there.”
Joa, knowing that Keely hated the silent treatment, didn’t reply.
“So what are your impressions of Sadie Slade?”
So they were going to dance around the subject. Okay, then. “She seems professional and smart. I have no doubt she will find the answers we need.”
“If that painting is a Homer, it will raise an enormous amount for the foundation.” Keely rested her head on the back of the sofa, a small smile on her face. “I’ve known Carrick and his brothers for a long time, but I’ve never seen Carrick so distracted before.”
Joa wasn’t going to ask; she was still mad at Keely...
“What do you mean?”
Such willpower, Joa.
Keely’s mouth twitched at Joa’s curiosity. “Carrick couldn’t keep his eyes off Sadie. She’s worked her way under his skin.”
“I think she’s equally attracted. The sparks were flying.” Joa pointed her glass at Keely and frowned. “And don’t think that just because I’m engaging in this conversation, I’m not still mad at you. I am.”
Keely didn’t look remotely concerned. “You’ll get over it. You always do. And, in time, you’ll thank me.”
When pigs flew.
Joa dropped her feet to the floor and leaned forward. The one thing she’d been certain of when she left New Zealand was that she didn’t want to be an au pair again; she didn’t want to be a part of someone else’s family. Yes, she wanted a family of her own, but she needed to find it herself, make it herself. Or be alone. She was never again going to worm herself into someone else’s life.
So acting as a nanny to Ronan’s admittedly adorable sons wasn’t something she wanted to do.
Keely looked at her with suddenly serious eyes. “Ronan needs help, Joa.”
That wasn’t her problem. “Are you seriously telling me he can’t find one suitable nanny in a city this big?”
“He’s tried, but he has the worst luck. They are either too old or too strict, or too young and too flirty. A bunch of them used his kids to insert themselves into his life, a couple going far enough to offer more than child-minding services.”
Well, that was what happened when you were impossibly good-looking, rich and charming. Joa sighed, unable to tell Keely that she’d spent the past years pining after her two single bosses, over men she couldn’t have, hiding her attraction from them because she hadn’t wanted to make things awkward and embarrass herself. But if her attraction to them was a gentle, bubbling brook, then what she felt for Ronan was a raging, turbulent, fast-flowing river.
And she couldn’t swim...
Then Joa made the mistake of meeting Keely’s eyes and she saw the worry reflected in those brown depths. Knowing she wouldn’t like what Keely was about to say, Joa held her breath.
“He’s a very good friend, Ju, and he needs help. He’s sad and stressed and he’s barely keeping his head above water.”
“Why me?” Joa wailed.
“Because you have the experience and the time. And you’re the most levelheaded, down-to-earth person I know,” Keely replied. “You’re not impressed by his name, his looks—”
Oh, she was, but she’d rather die than admit that!
“—and you absolutely do not need his money. Help him out for a couple of months and maybe you can find a nanny for him...someone suitable. Besides, you know you will go off your head if you don’t do something.”
True. She hated being idle and, since Keely sometimes watched Ronan’s boys, Joa had heard about Sam and Aron; apparently they were old enough to be interesting, young enough not to give Keely too much grief. And, yeah, maybe Ronan was at the end of his rope.
She wanted to help—she would help anyone if she could—but she just wished Ronan weren’t quite so attractive.