It opened immediately.

“Well?” the gruff-voiced housekeeper asked as she granted Kristen entry.

“I think everything went okay. But I didn’t actually make up a story like you told me to. We started talking and before I knew it I was explaining that my husband and sister had died.”

Mrs. Romani gasped in horror.

“I didn’t go into any kind of detail and he assumed that because my family had died I’d come looking for a long, lost relative—you.”

“ He came up with that?”

Kristen nodded.

Mrs. Romani grinned. “Oh, that’s rich.”

But Kristen frowned. “I don’t like fooling him. I don’t like fooling anybody.”

“That’s why this is so rich,” Mrs. Romani said, patting Kristen’s hand. “ You never told him anything. He made assumptions. Now we don’t have to make up a story. We can more or less behave like strangers getting to know each other, which we are. And we also don’t have to worry that he’ll ask too many questions because you told him you lost your family, and he’s very sensitive about loss.”

Kristen licked her suddenly dry lips. “I know.”

“He confided in you?”

“Little things. Bits and pieces,” Kristen clarifed uncertainly.

“Well, now,” Mrs. Romani said, and with a satisfied smirk directed Kristen to the door. “Sounds like everything will run smooth as clockwork. I don’t have anything to worry about. And you don’t have anything to worry about.”

But she did, Kristen thought, sneaking back to her room. She wasn’t a person who was built for deception, and she especially didn’t like deceiving someone as burdened as Grant Brewster. But more than that, they had feelings for each other. Not only were they instantly attracted, but they were instantly empathetic, because they’d gone through some similar situations. When he discovered who she was he was going to be insulted and angry, unless she kept their relationship distant or, if possible, nonexistent from this point forward so his level of betrayal would be lower than it would be if they became friends.

Since that was the logical choice, that’s what she intended to do. Keep her distance. Avoid becoming friends. Ignore the attraction.

Kristen had the girls dressed in bright pink sweat suits and was feeding them breakfast when Grant came downstairs the next morning. Everything was under control until she looked up at the kitchen doorway in which he stood, then the spoon she held stopped midway to Taylor’s open mouth.

Not only was he wearing a neat black suit, white shirt and paisley tie, but he had shaved his beard. His beard. The one thing about him that could be construed as even remotely unattractive was gone. Replaced by a clean, smooth face of angles and planes so handsome and male that Kristen’s heart skipped a beat.

He caught her gaze and gave her a casual smile, but Kristen only stared at him.

“Good morning,” he said and walked into the room. “I saw that you had the kids up so I just got myself dressed. I hope it wasn’t a problem.”

“The children got me up about an hour ago,” Kristen said as she slid a spoonful of oatmeal into Annie’s mouth. Shaving his beard had taken her by surprise, but her reaction to him wasn’t new. The night before she’d decided to handle this, and she would. “Mrs. Romani helped me with breakfast.”

“I helped her prepare breakfast,” Mrs. Romani corrected, because—Grant knew—his short housekeeper with the overbleached hair and a sharp, crackly voice from cigarettes had no intention of letting anyone get the wrong impression. “As far as those babies go, she’s handled everything herself.”

“Really?” Grant asked, striding to the coffeepot, sternly stifling the tingles of awareness that were beginning to expand in his stomach. With Kristen’s sleep-tousled hair, and her curves clearly outlined by the soft flannel of her yellow robe, not only did she look cuddly and beautiful, but her genuine interest in the babies gave her an allure that couldn’t be matched by mere physical beauty.

But though the tingles of awareness yearned to turn into full-scale sexual arousal, Grant was determined not to let them. Kristen Devereaux was a woman with problems. He might not have clearly realized that the night before, but in the light of day everything had made perfect sense. She understood him because she understood loss. He was grieving his father, regretting his mistakes. She was grieving her husband and her sister. They were an emotionally wounded duo, who definitely, positively, absolutely shouldn’t get involved.

But beyond that, he wasn’t allowed to get involved with her. She was an employee. The complications that could result from the two of them becoming personal were too numerous to mention and too serious to be ignored. A wise man stayed the hell away from his employees. Period.

“Since Cody’s with Claire and Evan, there were only two babies for me to dress and feed,” Kristen said, bringing Grant back to the present as she set Annie’s spoon down and reached for Taylor’s. “Besides, the girls are sweet and well behaved.”

At that Grant involuntarily chuckled, but when Kristen gave him a puzzled frown he stopped laughing. “I’m sorry, I thought you were kidding.”

“Kidding?”

He shrugged. “Annie and Taylor are trouble with a capital T. Annie by herself is as lovable as a kitten. Alone, Taylor is a little lady. But put them together and they are holy terrors.”

“No, they aren’t,” Kristen objected, continuing to feed the kids.

Grant turned to Mrs. Romani. “Is she serious?”

Mrs. Romani tossed her hands as if exasperated to be brought into the discussion, but she said, “I haven’t ever seen the girls so quiet.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Grant said and walked over to the table in the breakfast nook. From the way Kristen seemed hesitant with the girls the night before, he wouldn’t have guessed her capable of taking care of the morning routine alone. He sat on the captain’s chair beside Kristen’s, leaning in to get a good view of what she was doing. Not only was she handling things much better than Grant would have guessed her able, but the girls had never been this well mannered. If there was a lesson to be learned here, he was willing to learn it.

“See?” Kristen said, spooning more oatmeal into Annie’s mouth. Like an angel, Annie obediently opened and closed her lips when required, while Taylor sat patiently, waiting for her turn.

Grant stared at them. “Amazing. How do you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Kristen said, but Grant noticed a blush stain her cheeks and he seriously wondered if she hadn’t done something this morning to get the girls to behave. If they were older he’d think she’d bribed them with a present.

Incredulous, Grant bent in closer. “Taylor, honey, don’t you want to put your bowl on your head and wear it like a hat?”

Taylor cocked her head and gave him a look as if to say she would never do something so naughty.

“Annie? No scream?”

Annie only giggled.

Mrs. Romani shook her head in bewilderment. “I’m telling you. She’s a miracle worker.”

“I am not,” Kristen objected, almost too vehemently.

Grant had his suspicions about how she’d gotten the children to be good, but he didn’t care if she had bribed them. As long as they were safe and happy, he wasn’t questioning anything.

“I think you’re a miracle worker,” Grant said, laying his arm across the back of her chair and finding himself in intimate proximity. Not only was he close enough to touch her, but those last three inches put him in the direct line of seeing her smooth, shiny hair up close. He also caught a whiff of her scent. A flowery bouquet hit him so unexpectedly, he didn’t stop himself from catching it.

The soft fragrance brought him spontaneous ecstasy and he automatically inhaled again. But he rationalized that he still didn’t have anything to worry about. So what if he’d inadvertently lingered over that scent a little longer than he should have? It didn’t mean anything. He had his perspective firmly grounded. He had no intention of getting involved with this woman. He simply had enjoyed her cologne. No big deal. In fact, he wouldn’t mind another whiff. As silently as possible, he sniffed the air, then narrowed his eyes in pleasure.