He had shimmering emerald green eyes. They burrowed into mine. "Hannah Gray?"
I shook myself awake. "Yes," I said in a weird voice. I never realized I could sound that squeaky. I swallowed the frog in my throat, and hurriedly shoved my hand out toward him. "Yes, yes, that’s me, Hannah Gray. You must be Mr. West. I'm here about the nanny position," I blabbered unnecessarily, since he obviously knew who I was.
He took my hand and a shot of electricity ran up my fingers. My eyes widened as I fought the instinctive impulse to pull my hand away.
Christian West’s lips pressed into a straight line, as he looked me up and down.
Suddenly, I felt self-conscious about my outfit. I shouldn’t have worn this blouse. It made my breasts look even bigger than they were, and this skirt was too fitting… I should have worn something longer. Something that wouldn’t have made his eyes grow frosty. I forced myself not to tug my skirt down under his disapproving gaze.
"You're early," he said coldly, as he released my hand and stepped back.
"I hope that's not a problem," I mumbled. “I was…umm…anticipating more traffic. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I can go away and come back in twenty minutes.”
"It's fine. I just wasn't expecting you yet. Come inside."
Chapter Two
Hannah
I stepped over the threshold and he closed the door behind us. The sound echoed down the hallway.
“Follow me please,” he instructed distantly.
I nodded and followed him meekly enough, but hell, was I all eyes or what? He was dressed in a blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It showed off muscled forearms. Not the kind body builders pumped up on steroids had, but the kind that woodsmen or fishermen had. Years and years of hard labor. In his case, I guess, training.
The expertly cut shirt didn't hide how stupendously built he was. The dark slacks he wore fitted him perfectly and showed off his firm full ass. Firm full ass? What the hell was I thinking? Stop having inappropriate thoughts! This is probably going to be your boss, you nincompoop. Biting my lip, I quickly glanced back up and forced myself to glance around as we walked down the hall.
As I expected, the whole place was professionally and tastefully decorated. It was like being inside a magazine spread. Very beautiful, but it seemed to miss that personal touch and warmth of a real home. My own place was cluttered with crap I'd brought back from vacations, photos with my family and my friends, and an assortment of random things I'd found in junk shops and fell in love with. It definitely wasn't as immaculate and beautiful as this house, but it was warm and inviting. And it was all mine… at least while I kept up the mortgage payments.
We reached his office. The door was already open. He walked in and waved to a chair across his desk. As he went around it, I settled down into the insanely plush chair. Instead of sinking into it, I was careful to keep my back straight. On his desk was the first signs of a family. A photo of a little girl. I guessed that was his daughter.
"Can I get you anything, Hannah?"
The way he said my name made shivers run up my spine. I opened my mouth to answer, and his eyes flickered up and down my body again. I watched his tongue slip out and caress his bottom lip, and I could have sworn he was attracted to me too. The thought was enough to make me force my thighs together. "No, I'm okay," I said without stumbling over my words… too much.
Mr. West nodded and pulled out a paper from a stack on his desk.
I already knew it was the resume the agency had sent on my behalf. Enclosed was also a copy of the thorough background check I'd submitted to. It was very intrusive, but it came with the territory. You could never be too careful with who you allowed around your children. They were the most precious things you had.
"I see you have a lot of experience," he said, looking over the sheet in his hands. "And your references are glowing.” He pierced me with a look. “Someone actually said you were a heaven send for her twins."
I waved a hand modestly. "They were lovely kids, honestly. I never had much of an issue with them, and whenever I did, they were actually easy to calm down. I always got along with kids."
"Uh… huh… what about difficult children? Have you taken care of any?"
I nodded. "Of course. I've been taking care of kids since I was eleven years old, so it's almost impossible not to run across a problem child or two."
He leaned forward in his chair and rubbed a hand over his dark, deliciously stubbly chin. "How do you handle it?"