She opened the door stealthily, determined not to disturb her daughter’s sleep.
Her daughter.
This was her child. Her baby.
Her search was over.
The realization sent a shimmer of bittersweet joy through her as she made her way toward Susanna’s bed.
Susu was sleeping on her belly, clutching her teddy bear.
Jennifer reached out a trembling hand and gently stroked the child’s dark curls. What was it Roarke had said? Something about Susu’s dark curls and blue eyes being like hers.
And they were. There was even a similarity about the mouth—
“I had a feeling I might find you here.”
Jennifer spun around. Alexandra Campbell stood watching her from the open doorway. She was wearing a long black silk negligee. Even in the faint glow of the night-light, it was easy to see that she wore nothing else beneath it.
Jennifer drew her lover’s robe more closely around herself.
“What do you want?”
“Just a little chitchat with my daughter’s nanny.”
The inflection she put on the word made it clear what she thought.
Jennifer could feel logic starting to slip away.
This woman was evil. Roarke’s ex had hurt him and if she had to hurt Susanna to get what she wanted, that was exactly what she would do.
Jennifer stepped away from the sleeping child.
“I don’t want to wake Susanna, Mrs. Campbell. If you insist on carrying on a conversation—”
“Oh, I do. I definitely do.”
Jennifer nodded. “Then let’s go down to the library.”
* * *
The library was silent and dark. Jennifer walked quickly to the French doors and drew open the heavy curtains, letting in the pale, early morning light.
“Now,” she said, turning to face Alexandra Campbell, “what is it you want to talk about?”
The blonde leaned lazily against the wall. “You’re very much at home here, aren’t you?”
“I told you, I’m Susanna’s—”
“Nanny. Yes, so you said.” She smiled. “Does my husband lend his robe to all his servants, I wonder?”
Jennifer felt her cheeks flame. Don’t let her intimidate you, she told herself. This was some kind of game, that’s all it was, and she wouldn’t let herself be drawn in.
“Mrs. Campbell—”
“How long have you been living with Roarke?”
“I’m not living with him—not in the way you mean.”