The Ties That Bind

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The Ties That Bind
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“I don’t care how you entertain the kid. Just do it. And leave me out of it.”

Anna’s face blanched, making her freckles stand out. Pierce experienced a sudden craving for cinnamon toast—the way his mother used to make it twenty-something years ago.

He shook his head to banish the thought.

“Yessir.” She turned away to attend to the kid.

Feeling as if he’d kicked a kitten, Pierce grabbed his plate and a bottle of water and retreated to his office. He’d hired her to deal with the trivial childcare issues. He didn’t need her or her sleepy, sexy—no, not sexy—morning eyes condemning him.

What she didn’t seem to realize was that the kid would be better off if Pierce kept his distance.

Dear Reader,

When my editor asked if I’d like to write a Billionaires and Babies story, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. Who doesn’t love babies?

Except my hero, of course!

My sons are all long past the cuddly stage, and I’ve reached a point where I actually miss their squabbling and wrestling. For those of you who are still dealing with kiddie chaos, rest assured, your day to miss the madness will come all too soon.

I loved having the opportunity to throw not one, but two tiny tots at my baby-phobic hero and watching them (and Anna, the boys’ nanny) win him over. I hope you enjoy watching Pierce succumb to Anna and the pint-size charmers, too.

I enjoy hearing from readers! Please contact me through my website, www.emilierose.com.

Happy reading!

Emilie Rose

About the Author

Bestselling Mills & Boon® Desire™ author and RITA® Award finalist EMILIE ROSE lives in her native North Carolina with her four sons and two adopted mutts. Writing is her third (and hopefully her last) career. She’s managed a medical office and run a home day care, neither of which offers half as much satisfaction as plotting happy endings. Her hobbies include gardening and cooking (especially cheesecake). She’s a rabid country music fan because she can find an entire book in almost any song. She is currently working her way through her own “bucket list,” which includes learning to ride a Harley. Visit her website at www.emilierose.com or e-mail EmilieRoseC@aol.com. Letters can be mailed to PO Box 20145, Raleigh, NC 27619, USA.

The Ties That Bind

Emilie Rose

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To the men and women of our military who sacrifice so much so that the rest of us can stay home with our families.

One

Anna Aronson aimed a measured breath at the plastic wand and wished the bubbles exiting the opposite side could magically carry her worries away on the breeze.

The boys playing at her feet in the thick emerald grass squealed and gurgled in the infectious way only toddlers can, making her smile despite impending disaster.

She had to get this job.

A flash of movement caught her attention. She glanced away from the boys scampering after the bubbles, and spotted the woman who’d interviewed her earlier coming toward them. Tension wound inside Anna like an Archimedean spiral.

“Mr. Hollister will see you now, Anna. He’s waiting in his office. Take the doors on the left side of the patio.” She gestured to the luxurious, sprawling Greenwich, Connecticut, home.

Anna licked her dry lips and lowered the wand. “The boys …”

“I’ll watch them while you talk to the boss. He has the final say. But for what it’s worth, you have my vote.” Mrs. Findley held out her hand for the bottle of bubbles and wand.

Anna, feeling as if she were surrendering a life preserver in rough seas, handed them over. This interview felt very much like a sink or swim situation. If she didn’t get this job she wouldn’t be able to pay this month’s rent or electric bill, and she’d be left with no option except to swallow her pride, go home and beg for help even though her mother had already made it clear that Anna and Cody would not be welcome in the retirement community where she resided.

But hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. “Thank you, Mrs. Findley.”

“Call me Sarah. And, Anna, don’t let Pierce intimidate you. He’s a fair employer and a good man despite the armor plated personality.”

Armor plated personality?

Trepidation closed Anna’s throat. She couldn’t have spoken even if an appropriate response had materialized in her seized up brain. Instead she nodded and headed for the house. The distance seemed endless, and by the time she reached the stone porch stairs of the two-story colonial her breaths came quickly—as if she’d run a mile instead of walking a few hundred yards.

Through the glass door Anna spotted her prospective employer sitting behind a massive wooden desk. The air jammed in her lungs. Please, please, please let this go well.

She knocked on the glass. He looked up from a stack of papers, scowling, then bid her to enter with one sharp snap of his head. Her hand slipped on the polished brass knob. She had to blot her damp palm on her dress before trying again and pushing open the door.

Pierce Hollister, with his supermodel chiseled features and thick, dark hair styled in one of those intentionally messy cuts, looked as if he belonged in a glossy magazine advertisement for an expensive product that any young millionaire might want to buy, and though he’d dressed casually in a black polo shirt opened at the base of his tanned neck, he still reeked of power and prestige.

But a handsome, charming, wealthy man had contributed to her current financial predicament. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down with this one.

“H-hello, Mr. Hollister. I’m Anna Aronson.”

Hazel eyes without a trace of friendliness inspected her from head to toe. She hoped her simple shirt dress and sandals passed muster.

“Why were you fired from your last position?”

Flustered by the terse question even before she’d closed the door, she bought time by focusing on the—ohmigod original—art on the walls around him and pushing the door until she heard the lock catch. So much for a polite handshake greeting.

“I was let go because I refused an after school playdate with the father of one of my students.”

“He propositioned you?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you file a complaint with the headmaster?”

“I did. But the parent in question is one of the school’s primary benefactors and his wife is their most successful fundraiser. My complaint was ignored.”

“How long did you work for the school?”

“The dates are in my resume.”

“I’m asking you.”

Why would he question her credentials unless he thought she’d made them up and wouldn’t recall them? “The academy hired me part-time straight out of college as a tutor for some of their struggling students. Six months later when a teacher quit unexpectedly they offered me a full-time teaching position. All totaled I worked for the school for three and a half years.”

“And despite your history as an employee the school fired you because of one parent’s allegations. They chose to take his word over yours.”

“The headmaster believed generous private school donors were harder to come by than elementary school teachers.”

“Or perhaps they were looking for an excuse to get rid of you because you weren’t good enough.”

The unjust allegation stole her breath. “I’ve received exemplary evaluations at every review and the salary increases to go with it.”

“And if I call the school to verify your story?”

Her hopes sank. He didn’t believe her. He wasn’t the first. And until someone did she’d never find a job that would pay enough to cover decent day care for Cody while she worked. Maybe if she could pick up more students to tutor and college papers to edit she could make ends meet …

Who are you trying to fool? That won’t be enough.

She fought the urge to fidget beneath his condemning stare. “If you call the school you will be told the parent in question said I picked on his son unmercifully after he—the father—refused my advances.”

“Did you make advances?”

She jerked in surprise. No one had asked that before. “Of course not. He’s married.”

“Married men have affairs.”

“Not with me they don’t.”

“Your resume states you graduated with honors from Vanderbilt. My assistant tells me that’s one of the best education programs in the country. How is it you can’t find a teaching position?”

 

This felt more like an interrogation than an interview. “Apparently, saying no to powerful, well-connected people has repercussions that carry far beyond the local job market.”

She suspected she’d been black-balled.

“You have no nanny experience.”

“No, sir, but I routinely handled twenty children at once, more when I worked the academy’s summer camp program, and I am a parent used to coping with bed, bath and meal times.”

He leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers and pinning her with his unblinking gaze. She looked back hoping—praying—he’d see the truth and willingness to work hard in her eyes. The silent scrutiny stretched interminably until she was as uncomfortable as she’d been that day in the headmaster’s office when she’d been unjustly accused.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t believe your story.”

His words settled like a weight on her shoulders. Frustrated because she couldn’t prove her innocence, Anna could only stare hopelessly into that uncompromising face as hope left her like a soda going flat. Until the headmaster, her integrity had never been questioned. She’d always been the smart one, the levelheaded and trustworthy one who always got the job done. And now nobody believed her.

If she ever wanted to teach again she’d have to find a way to clear her name. But until then she had to feed and house her son.

“I wanted a more mature woman to look after the boy,” Hollister continued. “And you come with a liability in the form of another baby.”

“Cody is seventeen months old, only six months older than your son. They should be good company for each other and provide a little social interaction,” she insisted but when Hollister’s expression turned even more formidable she wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

“One noisy child in the house is bad enough. Two will be a disaster. I ought to show you the door. But Sarah swears you are the most qualified candidate, and I need a nanny today. You’re the only one available.”

Anna’s hopes started to rise then he stood and leaned forward on his fists, scaring her optimism right back into its hidey-hole. “But I will be watching you, Anna Aronson. One false move and no matter how desperate I am you and your carrot-top kid are out the door. Do I make myself clear?”

Her lungs emptied on a rush of relief and tears pricked the backs of her eyes, because even if he didn’t like or trust her, Hollister was giving her the job. “Yes, Mr. Hollister.”

“How long will it take you to pack and get back here?”

She quickly regrouped and calculated the travel time…and then the cost. Did she have enough cash in her wallet to cover cab fare to and from the station? Twice. Barely.

“It’s an hour’s train ride each way and I’ll need an hour to pack. We can be back in time for Graham’s dinner.”

“You don’t have a car?”

“No.” Not anymore. Public transportation wasn’t all that bad if you were careful about which times you traveled.

“I need you to assume your duties sooner. I’ll drive you.”

That meant being alone with him in her apartment. “But—”

“There is no but. Either you want the job or you don’t.”

“I do. But I, um…have a question.”

“What?” he snapped.

“Mrs. Findley wasn’t exactly clear on how long you’d need me. She said ‘until Graham’s mother returns from an overseas job,’ but she didn’t specify whether that involved weeks or months.”

“She didn’t provide the information because we don’t have it. This contract is open-ended. You’ll be paid monthly whether you work one day of the month or thirty, and you’ll be given an additional month’s severance pay when the job ends. If you have a problem with that then stop wasting my time.”

“No. No, sir. I—that will be fine.” Difficult to budget around, but better than nothing. And it explained why the salary offered was so ridiculously high.

“Then sign.” He shoved several pages and a pen toward her.

“May I read the contract first?”

“Read during the drive to your place.” He rose, came around the desk and loomed over her. She took an involuntary step back. He stood well over six feet and his shoulders stretched twice as broad as hers. A powerful man—not just financially. The same kind who had gotten her fired. “Let’s go. Sarah will watch your boy while we collect your belongings.”

Alarmed, Anna’s gaze shot to the window. She wasn’t really keen on leaving Cody with a stranger around so much water. Not only was the property riverfront, the large pool and bubbling hot tub would be an invitation to a little boy who loved to splash. But what choice did she have?

“Do you mind if I say goodbye to Cody and have a word with Mrs. Findley first?”

Her question seemed to irritate him. “Make it quick. I’ll get the car. Meet me out front. We’ll stop by the drug testing lab on the way to your place. I shouldn’t need to tell you that if the test comes back positive or if your references don’t check out you’ll be fired. No excuses. No severance pay.”

“Yessir. I understand. You have nothing to worry about. And thank you, Mr. Hollister, for giving me a chance.” She offered her hand. He ignored it. Feeling awkward, she let hers drop to her side.

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Anna unlocked her door, mentally contrasting her simple home with the luxurious perfectly decorated estate belonging to the man shadowing her like a hovering bird of prey. Her entire apartment would fit into the living room where Mrs. Findley had conducted the preliminary interview and shared the particulars of the position.

Except for Anna providing directions from the drug testing lab to her apartment, the ride over had been a silent one—and not a comfortable silence either. She had the distinct impression her new boss disapproved of her. And the contract had been confusing. Why would she need to sign a nondisclosure agreement? What went on in the Hollister household that anyone would want to know?

Hollister followed her in, his sharp green and gold flecked eyes taking in her sparse furnishings—a secondhand sofa and table lamp, a red plastic clothes basket holding Cody’s toys and a tiny kitchen table with two chairs and a high chair. She didn’t have much, but then she and Cody didn’t need much. Besides, having less furniture gave Cody more floor space to play.

“Just moving in?” her new boss asked.

“I’ve been here close to four years.”

“Redecorating?”

“No.” Many of the students she tutored lived in showcase homes like his, and like him, those families probably had no clue how the less fortunate lived. On the upside, not having a job meant her place was cleaner than it had ever been.

“You’re going for the minimalist look?”

“My ex took most of our furniture when he left,” she admitted reluctantly. Along with their car, and her trust and her belief in love.

“When was that?”

Inquisitive, wasn’t he? But he had a right to be cautious. She’d be living in his house with access to his valuables. She didn’t need her minor in art to recognize that any of his original paintings and sculptures would be valued at more than she’d made in a year teaching at the academy.

Just as she had a right, given her recent experience, to be a little leery of being isolated with a strange, wealthy, influential man. She’d learned the hard way that wealth often led to arrogance, and arrogance to a sense of entitlement. And entitlement led to an inability to accept “no” gracefully.

She deliberately left the door to the hall slightly ajar. “Todd moved out while I was in the hospital giving birth to our son.”

“Is that relevant to my job?”

“Yes.”

Hollister’s eyes narrowed. Something in her tone must have alerted him to the betrayal that still stung when she thought of Todd’s rejection of not only of her but their child. It was one thing to get tired of her, but to ignore his own flesh and blood…She hated him for that.

“He didn’t tell you he was leaving?”

“No. He dropped me off at the emergency room and said he was going to park the car. He didn’t return. I was afraid that— I didn’t know he’d moved out until the taxi brought Cody and me home to an empty apartment.”

“I take it your husband didn’t appreciate you getting pregnant?”

She stiffened. “It takes two to make a baby. Cody was a surprise for both of us. Todd and I were newlyweds, and we’d intended to wait a few years before starting our family, but…things happen.”

“What does he think about you applying for a live-in position?”

“He doesn’t get a say. He’s not a part of our lives.”

“Still married?”

“Divorced. Please have a seat, Mr. Hollister. I’ll pack as quickly as I can.”

“Does he pay child support?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t even know where he is, and if he doesn’t want us I’d rather not have any ties.”

“There are no custody issues?”

“He relinquished his parental rights as part of the divorce settlement.” That he’d been all too happy to do so had killed any tender feelings she might have had for him. “You don’t have to worry about Todd showing up at your home and causing a problem. Excuse me.”

Anna raced from the room before he could ask more questions. She didn’t want to discuss her failed marriage or how badly she’d misjudged her ex-husband. If she wanted to have that conversation all she had to do was call her mother and listen to one of her I-told-you-so rants.

Anna packed Cody’s clothes and his favorite stuffed monkey in a duffel bag. Her life would have been much easier if she’d listened when her parents had deemed Todd a freeloader and forbidden her to see him, but at twenty she’d been flush with the freedom of college, overwhelmed by Todd’s attention and too naive to see anything but what he had wanted her to see—his mesmerizing charm, his amazing musical talent, and the big dreams he’d spun.

That love-struck blindness had peaked when Todd had convinced her to elope right after graduation. And even though her parents had packed her belongings, set them on their front porch and told her she’d have to live with the consequences of her impulsive behavior when Anna had shared the news of her marriage, she couldn’t regret her decision.

If she’d heeded her parents’ advice she wouldn’t have Cody, and her little angel was worth any pain or sacrifice she had to endure.

The most important thing her parents’ and Todd’s betrayals had taught her was that she was better off on her own—just her and Cody. She didn’t need a man, and Cody was all the family she needed.

She carried the duffel bag and the economy pack of diapers to the den and piled them in the toy basket. She hadn’t noticed any toys at Hollister’s. But then she hadn’t been shown the playroom. Perhaps her new boss insisted on keeping the clutter there.

Hollister indicated the loaded basket. “Is all this going?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll take it to the car and come back for the rest.”

“But it’s four flights—”

“I remember.”

Of course he did. He’d climbed the stairs since the elevator was broken. Again. The building wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t all that good either. But it was clean and had been within walking distance of her old job. She knew her neighbors and felt safe here.

“I’ll be ready by the time you return.”

When he left the apartment tension instantly drained from her. She snatched the stack of bills off the breakfast bar and shoved them into her purse. She had a job that would enable her to pay her bills. For now. And with a good reference from Pierce Hollister maybe she could land another position soon after this one.

She quickly packed her clothing and toiletries into her old suitcase. She’d forgotten to ask how he expected her to dress. She hoped her wardrobe of casual dresses and skorts would suffice.

She headed for the den just as a knock sounded on the door. Elle peeked through the opening. “You got the job?”

“Yes, Elle, I did. I start today.”

The thirteen-year-old’s narrow shoulders drooped. “I guess you won’t need me to babysit then?”

The downside of accepting a live-in position meant Anna couldn’t pay her neighbor to babysit, and Elle’s family needed the money. “I’m sure I’ll need you when I get back. This is a temporary situation.”

“I’m going to miss you and Cody.” Elle’s lips quivered.

 

Anna pulled the fragile teen into her arms. “We’ll miss you, too.”

Anna’s new boss returned, stopping abruptly behind the girl and scowling as he took in the scene. “Ready?”

Anna released Elle. “Almost. Elle, this is Mr. Hollister. I’ll be taking care of his little boy, Graham.”

Hollister’s mouth opened then snapped closed as if he were going to speak then changed his mind.

The teen blinked back her tears and sniffed. “N-nice to meet you, sir.”

Anna smoothed a hand over Elle’s baby-fine hair. “Elle lives next door. Honey, why don’t you check my fridge for perishables? Take them to your place. No need to let them spoil here. Oh, and there are a couple of open boxes of cereal and a jar of peanut butter in the cabinet. Grab those and the bread on the counter, too.”

Elle shuffled off. Hollister hiked an eyebrow. “You feed the neighbors?”

How did he manage to make that sound like an insult? “She watches Cody for me when I’m tutoring students. With us gone she won’t make any money.”

“I’m sure she can afford a few missed trips to the mall.”

“It’s the missed trips to the grocery store I’m worried about,” she replied as quietly as possible.

His apparently perpetual frown deepened. When Elle returned with two bags loaded with food he scrutinized her in that same uncomfortable way he had Anna until Elle squirmed and shot a worried glance at Anna.

“You sure you want me to take all this, Miss Anna?”

“Absolutely, Elle. It’ll spoil here. And you know I hate waste.”

“Do you have a cell phone?” Hollister asked Anna.

“No.” Another casualty of her finances.

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and extracted a business card then a couple of bills. He folded them in quarters and covered them with his card before Anna could make out the denomination. Then he wrote on the back of the white rectangle. “Keep an eye on Ms. Aronson’s place while she’s gone. You can reach her at this number if any problems arise.”

Elle goggled at the money then him then Anna. Anna had to bite her lip to hide her surprise. She nodded, encouraging Elle to take whatever he’d given her. “I’d appreciate it, Elle. I’ll try to keep you updated on when Cody and I’ll return. Oh. Wait.”

She rushed from the room and brought back her windowsill herb garden. “You might as well take this too. The plants will die without water, and you and your sister can experiment with the different flavors when you cook. Be sure to write down any good recipes you concoct for me.”

“Sure. That’ll be fun.”

Hollister nodded toward Cody’s high chair. “You’d better bring that.”

He followed Elle out of the apartment carrying Anna’s remaining luggage. She folded up the lightweight high chair, locked up and trailed him down the stairs.

She stopped beside him on the sidewalk. “That was nice of you. Giving Elle the money and contact information, I mean.”

“It was nothing.” He closed the trunk on her stuff and stowed the baby chair in the backseat.

“Her father’s disabled and—”

“I don’t care, nor do I need to know her circumstances.”

His cold tone cut like a new scalpel, revealing the armor-plated personality his assistant had mentioned. “Yessir.”

For a moment he’d seemed human, compassionate even. But she must have misread him.

She hoped she wasn’t making a huge mistake.

Pierce didn’t buy Anna’s goody-two-shoes act.

He’d taken her home rather than put her on the train not out of generosity, but because he’d wanted her taking over the care of Kat’s kid immediately. And he’d wanted insight into the woman who had hoodwinked his usually astute executive assistant.

Sarah had been with him since his father’s sudden death had forced Pierce to take the reins of the company seven years ago, and she’d been his father’s executive assistant for twenty years before that. No one knew the company like she did, and in all the time they’d worked together he’d never once doubted her intelligence as he did today.

But she was too valuable an employee to lose—especially now at crunch time with thousands of scholarship applications still left to go through and his aggressive agenda for Hollister Ltd. He had a distinct impression she’d have quit if he hadn’t hired Aronson.

He glanced at the freckled female with the long auburn hair and even longer legs sitting in his passenger seat. Pretty, but not so much so that she’d drive men wild with lust, and her conservative clothing wasn’t going to lead a man to believe she was looking for a lover. Her story didn’t add up. And then there was the way she’d studied his artwork as if she knew the value of each piece. The collection was insured. But he’d have to watch her.

Her almost empty apartment and her soap opera sob story about her ex-husband combined with the pile of bills on the counter indicated a woman in dire straights. A woman desperate enough to do things to make a few bucks.

Like proposition a wealthy parent.

Or fence stolen paintings.

He’d been convinced he’d made a mistake in hiring her, then she’d helped the girl, doing so in a manner that made giving handouts look as if the teen was doing Anna a favor by taking them.

Pierce had been surprised when the girl had opened Anna’s refrigerator and cabinets because those too had been nearly empty. He hadn’t seen a pantry or refrigerator that bare since his stint in foster care.

It was only after Anna’s comment about missed groceries that he’d noticed the girl wasn’t fashionably thin. She was emaciated. And Anna had given her what little food she had. Sure, Aronson would be eating on his dime in the foreseeable future, but she’d handled the delicate situation with a sensitivity that he couldn’t help but respect.

He kept his eyes on the road and the traffic, but his brain waves remained tuned in to the pale and silent woman sitting in the seat beside him.

Sarah might believe that having a woman with Anna’s qualifications fall into his lap when he was desperate was a godsend, but if life had taught him anything, it was that when something looked too good to be true, ninety-nine percent of the time it was.

He’d definitely have to keep his eye on Anna Aronson.

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