Page 13 of Catching Trouble
“I could ask you the same question.”
She straightened and stepped forward, her nose drawing level with my chest. The tiny cleft in her chin caught the sun.
“I’m staying here. This is private property. Are you delivering fish? I’m sure the guy who lives here wouldn’t appreciate the intrusion. I’ve heard he can be mean.”
I shot up an eyebrow. “Mean?”
She shrugged. “Well, maybe more unwelcoming. Grumpy.”
“Grumpy?”
“Yes, and I’m sure he wouldn’t be happy that you just walked in like you owned the place.”
The simmer in my blood rose to a slow boil. “No, he wouldn’t.”
She lifted her chin even higher. “Oh, you know him, then?”
I took the net off my shoulder and carefully laid it on the ground. “I do. Very well, in fact. Andhe’d want to know who the hell you are, and why you’re taking a shower in his garden.”
I had a suspicion about who she was already, and it set my teeth on edge.
She opened her mouth, ready to respond. But a heaviness settled over me. I didn’t have time for petty arguments. Not today.
“Inmygarden,” I ground out.
She blinked twice. “Yourgarden?”
I nodded slowly.
She took a small breath and held it. I could practically hear her brain working. Finally, she spoke. “So, you live here?”
“I do.” My voice sounded harsher than I meant.
“You’re Maxime?”
Her voice was barely a whisper. With her teeth at her lip, she ran her eyes over me. Over my hair, over my face, then my body. Her gaze hung on my skin, as if memorising my tattoos.Did the intensity of her stare set my senses on fire? Maybe. But I was too exhausted to examine the burn.
“I’m Maxime. And seeing as I’m at a disadvantage, I have to ask. Who are you?”
The air deadened, as if someone turned down the volume.
“I’m your nanny,” she murmured.
My heart thumped in my chest—my suspicions snapping into reality. This was the woman I’d hired to help me with Sophie? The woman who only two minutes agohad draped herself in half of the garden, just waiting for a serpent and an apple to complete the picture.
“Really?” I didn’t mean to sound rude, but what were the chances?
She nodded, pulling her tiny towel snug around her body.
“And you’re Luc’s friend?”
She bounced her gaze between me and the net laying on the grass. “I guess. I’m more a friend of his wife’s.”
I examined her face. Although the line between her brows had faded, her jaw was still clenched.
“I expected someone older. Someone, I don’t know, more like a nanny.”
With a sigh, she fisted her hands, placing them on her hips. “I’m sorry if I’m not what you expected. Nobody gave me a blueprint of what I should look like. If you prefer, I can dye my hair grey or get myself an apron. How about a chimney brush? I could give you the real Mary Poppins experience.”
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