It was crazy how my emotions were all over the place as I drove back to my hometown and hurriedly went in my room to pack my bag. The first emotion, of course, was excitement. I hadn’t expected to get a response just a few days after I applied—moreover, I never expected such a positive response. It was shocking to know that I was hired right away, just like that, and I had to wonder what it was about my interview that had the employer deciding to do so. I couldn’t have been the only applicant, considering the job wasn’t that hard and the salary offer wasn’t bad, either. In fact, it was pretty good, and I knew it would go a long way to adding up to my savings.

Mixing with the excitement was nerves, of course. To handle that, I looked for my parents and had a quick talk with them about the job I just got hired to do and how I needed to be away from home for a while. They were surprised about it but were very supportive, telling me to do a good job and to pray for safety, especially when they found out that it would only be me and the little girl whenever the dad went away for his job. It helped eased the nerves a little bit, but a few still lingered, especially since I’d never really babysat for someone this far away. Still, I knew I could handle it.

What I wasn’t sure I could handle was the man who was my employer.

Peter Bartlett didn’t look like I expected him to. I expected maybe a middle-aged, soft-looking man with some love handles and an affable personality. I didn’t know why I was expecting that, though it probably had to do with him not detailing his job in the email.

What I got when he opened the front door was a blast of shock that still sent tingles up my spine until now.

He wasn’t soft-looking. In fact, he was hard all over, with muscles that covered every inch of him. He was also tall and large, with blond hair and dark blue eyes that looked at me like he was looking into my soul. It intimidated me at first until he began to explain that he was a Navy SEAL—which meant working out for work was basically his job. I’ve met some Navy SEAL guys before when they visited Spring Hills and volunteered at church during their stay there, and they had been just as hard and muscled as Peter. But he was older, and there was a certain aura surrounding him that let me know he was all man, with traces of any boy in him gone.

There was no denying that he was good-looking—in fact, he was so good-looking that it should have been illegal. Combined with the clean cut hair, the deep voice and the three o’clock shadow on his chin, he looked like some sort of devilish temptation himself.

And I was terribly, shockingly attracted to him.

It was inconvenient, really. But I’d been attracted to enough guys in college, only discovering after talking to them that they were all after the same thing: casual sex with me, which turned me off. They didn’t even bother to get to know me first. I was pretty sure whatever this was I felt for Peter was fleeting and would just go away with time.

Our interview had been short, and usually I needed more time to assess people, but I could tell right away by the way he talked that he loved his daughter. There was a certain tone he took on when he spoke about her, affection and fondness being at the forefront. If anything, that was enough to convince me to go for it, which was why I hurried in my packing and left again, taking our old Toyota instead of my dad’s pickup truck. Peter didn’t specify about transportation, but I was pretty sure he would be using his to get to base when he got called.

The drive back to Little Stone was pretty fast, and I was back just after noontime. Peter opened the door quickly even before I knocked, indicating he’d probably been watching through the window. Again, the sight of him sent a shiver through me, and attraction rang loud and clear. It was so potent, I could almost feel the air exude it. College guys were boys, all acting tough but never really quite getting there.

Peter was all man—virile, extremely masculine.

I couldn’t even meet his gaze this time, as they felt too intense and I just wasn’t ready yet. Peter didn’t seem to notice, taking my duffel bag and ushering me in. He told me he left some food for me in case I was hungry, then pointed towards the stairs.

“We have a guestroom at the far right, and it’s already prepared. Please make yourself comfortable, Rachel. I’ll just run and finish up the laundry, then come and check on you later.”

He did laundry, too? Oh, God. And he made spaghetti.

“And Isla?”

“She’s upstairs, too, still practicing her dance. You can knock on her door and introduce yourself, if you want. She would like that. She already knows she has a new nanny today.”

“Right.”

Suddenly I was too aware of him and how closely we stood next to each other. Getting affected by his body warmth, I quickly thanked him and excused myself by heading upstairs. The house was pretty much the same size as ours, though it only had four rooms and a more spacious hallway upstairs. I took it two at a time.

Faint music drifted through the hallway, and I tried to figure it out. It sounded classical. Before I could get to the guestroom, I passed by a bedroom with the door ajar, where the music seemed to be coming from. Curious, I took a peek inside.

There was a little girl there stretching her legs, and she was slender and willowy. She was wearing black tights and a loose shirt that had pink glitters in the shape of a star. Her hair was up in a bun with a pink ribbon in the center, and she was wearing ballet slippers. I watched as she kept stretching for a few more seconds before finally realizing that someone was watching her. Instantly, her head turned in my direction.

Gosh. From the back all I could see was blonde hair, but now that I could see her blue eyes…she was the spitting image of her father. The blue in hers were a lighter color as opposed to her dad’s, but their features were very, very similar. I got the impression that she was as observant as the man, too, with the way her gaze instantly gave me a quiet perusal.

Then she smiled brightly, striding towards the door and holding out her hand. Surprised, my hand automatically reached out to shake it. She then stepped back and kept staring at me.

“Hi,” she said. “Are you the new nanny?”

“Hello, Isla,” I responded. “Yes. I’m the new nanny. I’m Rachel Glasgow.”

“Cool,” she responded, cheerfully. “How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“I’m nine,” she said. “I think we’ll get along perfectly!”

Just like that, no questions asked. I guess her father did explain to her what my role was. Peter had told me that Isla’s last nanny had already retired, and she hadn’t needed one when she’d reconnected with her mother. I wasn’t sure if it was just me, but it seemed like there was another story altogether involving the mother. I could feel it in the way Peter’s voice clipped out when he spoke of her. I wondered if there was something still going on with them.

I watched as Isla made some stretches again. It was fascinating to watch her, especially now that she was facing me. Her eyes held a certain fire in them that told me she demanded a lot from her life. When she stood back up, she turned to me expectantly.

“Do you want to watch me dance? I’m practicing a piece for my ballet recital next week.”

“Sure,” I said, dropping my bag on the floor beside me. I entered the room when she ushered me in, her tiny hand closing around my wrist and pulling me towards the bed, where I sat on the edge. She then hurriedly stood on the open space, her body vibrating with an energy that I wasn’t able to comprehend. She pressed the button on her CD player, restarting the music.

To my surprise, when she got into position, the vibration I could feel from her stilled immediately. Then the music started, and she danced, and it was one of the most fascinating things I’d ever seen.

I couldn’t say Isla was the best ballet dancer in the world, considering she was only a kid. But she had such grace and passion that it made up for her minimal mistakes, and I knew that she’d be amazing in no time. I could tell this was her passion based on how she danced alone—and again, I couldn’t comprehend being so passionate about something like Isla was. I liked cooking and I liked studying, but I wouldn’t call them my passion, considering I never really dreamed of becoming a chef. Heck, I didn’t even finish school just for my studies alone. It made me admire Isla already, at the same time question my decisions. Again, I began to wonder where my life was going and what I was going to do with it.

Realizing Isla was about to dance to the next music, I forced my bothersome thoughts out of my mind and clapped appreciatively. Then I watched her jump into it right away. Her first dance had been classy and slow, and this second one had a jazz feel to it, with a more upbeat tempo. Her body moved and grooved, and I found myself smiling at the sass in this second performance. She was smiling brightly this time, her expression somewhat mischievous and perfect for the piece. She completed the dance with a twirl at the end, then went back to her original position standing on tiptoe with her hand in the air.

I clapped automatically, my mouth already opening to throw out praises at her. But before I could speak, another voice filled the room from the doorway.

“That was very good, sweetheart.”

And just like that, Peter’s voice instantly had tingles running down my body. It was crazy, and I braced myself for it and kept facing Isla. Because I was facing her, I was able to see her eyes light up at the sight of him. She grinned.

“Wasn’t it, dad?” she asked, enthusiastically. Then she glanced at me. “Which piece did you prefer, Rachel? The first or the second one? I’m only allowed one piece in the recital, and I still can’t decide which one I’ll use.” She pouted, like that made her sad. Then she turned blue eyes towards me expectantly.

“I like both,” I admitted, suddenly shy. I could feel another gaze on me, and it made me want to turn to him and run away at the same time. “I think you have a knack for both classic and jazz ballet, but I think the jazz ballet piece would make those watching smile more.”

I crossed my fingers, hoping Isla wouldn’t get offended. I remembered how this kid in my neighborhood used to throw tantrums when I didn’t agree to her opinion.

To my relief, Isla beamed.

“See, dad? Someone else thinks jazz is nice. Just like you do.”

“Then Rachel has good tastes,” he murmured.

Isla giggled, and I finally gathered the courage to look at her dad. Peter had his arms crossed, and the white, short-sleeved shirt he wore emphasized the bulge of his hard, tanned arms. His blue eyes were trained on me, thoughtful and intense at the same time. I felt my breath catch in my throat and tried my best to hide it as I met his gaze. A shock of electricity sizzled between us, powerful and heavy. Heat settled in my belly, so sudden. I could see awareness settle in his, as his eyes went even darker. My mouth went dry and parted.

“She sure does!” Isla chirped.

And just like that, the spell was broken. I clamped my mouth shut and glanced away, breaking our gazes first as I turned to Isla. She was beaming at me, and it was so infectious that I couldn’t help but grin back. I could already tell that she and I would get along, and to be honest, it made me more excited to get this job.

Peter cleared his throat, and I finally stood up from the bed and dusted my jeans. Then I slipped on the space beside him, grabbing my duffel bag.

“My room’s at the end, right?” I asked.

Peter nodded. But before I could escape, he blocked the way with his broad shoulders. I looked up automatically, finding that his eyes were on me again—only this time, he looked intently serious.

“I just got a call from my boss. I need to leave for work tonight.”

I blinked. Already?

“Aww, Dad,” Isla said. “Will you still eat dinner with us?”

There was no demand in the little girl’s voice, only understanding. Peter nodded and ruffled her hair when she approached, making her giggle.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said. “I know I said I’ll be called in the next day or two, but it looks like there’s a change of plans.”

In response, she tiptoed and hugged him around the waist. He ruffled her hair some more, and I watched him soften for the first time since I met him, right in front of his daughter. It was heartwarming, to say the least.

I could also detect a note of worry in his eyes, and it was understandable, considering he barely knew me. He was supposed to spend a day or two with me at least, to see how Isla and I got along and get some observation in.

I didn’t want him to worry. So when Isla drifted back in her room and Peter accompanied me on the hallway towards mine, I turned to him and spoke as truthfully as I could.

“You don’t have to worry, Mr. Bartlett. I promise to take good care of Isla while you’re working, and I’ll make sure she gets her homework done and eat good, healthy food.”

Peter’s mouth quirked, and I got momentarily distracted by his sexiness when he did so. God. This man needed a warning sign.

“Call me Peter,” he murmured.