Family Secrets Page 5

  “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  They were still staring at each other, neither willing to give an inch, when Nicky appeared at the bedroom door. His makeshift pajamas, one of Amanda’s favorite tee-shirts, trailed almost to his toes. “Mandy!”

  “Yes, darling?”

  He looked accusingly at her. “You said you’d come back.”

  “And I’m right here. You shouldn’t be out of bed, you know.” She scooped him up and tucked him under the blankets again. “What would you like, Nicky? More juice? Some ice chips?”

  “Juice,” he decided. “But come back soon this time.”

  By the time she returned with the fresh glass, however, Nicky was asleep. His absurdly long dark lashes lay heavily against his flushed cheeks, and one small hand was curved around his stuffed rabbit. Her eyes softened as she looked down at him.

  Chase rose from the rocking chair at the side of the bed and came quickly toward her.

  “You’re not going to wake him now, are you?” Her voice was low.

  “Of course not. Do you think I’m heartless enough to disturb him? Besides, he seems to have taken to you.”

  Amanda shrugged. “Kids are funny that way. Don’t worry about it, Chase. I’ll look after him.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “You don’t have to. I’d have done the same for any child.”

  “I know you would. If you’re sure you don’t mind, I should go back to work. I just walked out in the middle of a scene.”

  For the first time she noticed the careful touches of makeup on his face, and the silk shirt which was so unlike anything she’d seen him wearing around the inn, and deep inside her something started to tremble. It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be so damned good-looking? And why was he even more attractive like this – when his face was filled with worry and fatigue, instead of careless ease?

  She locked her fingers together to keep from reaching out to smooth the tired lines from his forehead. “Go ahead,” she said softly. “I’ll leave the door unlocked so you can stop in to see him later.”

  As the evening wore on, she began to think he didn’t intend to come back at all. In fact, it was almost midnight when she heard his soft steps crossing the little sitting room.

  Amanda had bathed Nicky again and coated every spot she could find – there were a whole lot more of them now – with lotion to stop the itching, and he had curled up against her while she read him a story. The bedroom was dim except for the pool of light cast by the bedside lamp.

  Chase stopped in the doorway and leaned there, his jacket slung over one shoulder, watching, until the story was done. Amanda’s low, soft voice had worked its magic; Nicky was almost asleep by the time she finished, and so Chase only kissed his son’s forehead and went out again.

  Amanda waited a few minutes longer, till she was certain Nicky was sound asleep, and then she gently slipped away. She was rubbing her eyes; it had been a long day already, and she’d be amazed if the child slept through the rest of the night. But she was too keyed up to rest. Maybe a cup of hot chocolate would help her doze.

  She stopped dead in the center of the room when she saw Chase sitting on the couch. “I didn’t feel like going upstairs,” he said lamely. “If you don’t mind, I thought I’d sit for a while.”

  In case Nicky wants him, Amanda reminded herself. “Of course I don’t mind. But how are you going to work tomorrow if you don’t have any sleep?”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  “But it’s not the same thing, is it? The inn can function even if I look haggard. You, on the other hand, can’t fool a camera. Would you like a hot drink? Cocoa, maybe, or tea?”

  “Either.” He followed her to the kitchenette.

  Amanda turned on the lights. Inside the wire cage, the parakeet raised his head from the tucked position and glared at her balefully. “Damn,” she said, and doused the lights again. “I forgot to put Floyd to bed, and if he starts whistling Nicky will be up like a shot.” She picked up the thickly-quilted cage cover. “Say your prayers, Floyd.”

  The parakeet gave a grunt. “Bless me,” he croaked.

  “Good boy.” She tugged the cover over the cage. “There, I think it’s safe now.”

  Chase perched on a tall stool next to the breakfast bar which separated the tiny kitchen from the sitting room. He had traded the silk shirt he’d been wearing earlier for a lightweight sweater, and there was no trace of makeup on his face. His hair was rumpled and his eyelids drooped a bit – as if, just like Nicky, he needed a bit of comforting and a good night’s sleep.

  But the man still radiated that incredible aura. It was muted now, no doubt because of his exhaustion, but in the close quarters of the kitchenette it was no less effective.

  Amanda stirred the milk and added cocoa and sugar. “How did the shooting go today?”

  “Much better before the grand interruption than after. The director was not particularly understanding.” He rubbed his temples. “I’m sorry, Amanda. I intended to take Nicky off your hands this evening, and look after him myself tomorrow. But –”

  “The director hit the ceiling at the very idea?”

  “You might say.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I told you I’d take care of him till you made other arrangements.”

  “But you have a job. You can’t just –”

  “Fortunately, I can do most of it from here. If I have to go downstairs, I’ll get one of the maids to sit with Nicky. We’ll manage.”

  Chase nodded. “Of course I expect to pay –” Amanda glared at him, and he stopped almost in mid-word. “Thank you very much,” he said meekly.

  “That’s better.” She gave a final stir to the hot chocolate, poured it into mugs, and shook cinnamon over the top. “Cheers.”

  She turned on the lamps beside the couch and sat down, propping her feet on the flat-topped trunk. Chase settled at the end of the couch, turned almost sideways so he was facing her. He was studying her very intently; she could feel his gaze, and it made her nervous.

  “You have wonderful bones, you know,” he said finally, and his fingertip traced the high, stark line of her cheekbone.

  Amanda smiled a little. As pick-up lines went, she’d heard better. He must be even more exhausted than she’d thought. “They hold me up just fine. I guess that’s all I ever expected of them.”

  Chase didn’t laugh. “Did you give your picture to the casting director? We need a lot of extras.”

  “No. Even if I had the time, I haven’t the inclination.”

  “Really? You seem to take quite a interest in film and theater. There’s a shelf of books on the subject in your library.”

  Be careful, Amanda, she told herself. There was no sense in letting him suspect that much of what she knew about acting she had learned while reading about him. “Oh, I had a couple of bit parts in college plays. Not that I ever had any talent, but at least I got rid of the silly urge every teenager has to be a star.” She sipped her hot chocolate. “Sorry. That came out all wrong. I really didn’t mean to say that I think your choice of profession is juvenile.”

  He smiled. “Sometimes – after about the twelfth take – I’d agree with you. Besides, after midnight no one should keep track of silly remarks.”

  “That’s a nice thought.”

  “And I couldn’t take offense anyway. I was the exception, you see – I didn’t want to be a star. In fact, it never even occurred to me to try acting.”

  Amanda turned to stare at him. “Then how – pray tell – did you end up as the sexiest man on American TV?” She saw the glint of enjoyment in his eyes and added hastily, “That’s Stephanie’s description, mind you.”

  For a moment he only looked at her, and Amanda could feel heat rising in her cheeks.

  “Remind me to ask Stephanie if she wants a job promoting my image,” Chase said lazily. “My career choice was purely accidental. I was a journeyman carpenter, working with a cabinet-maker
and learning the trade, and we were building display cases in a guy’s family room when he asked if I’d ever considered acting. I thought he was kidding, till I found out the display cases were to hold his awards for television advertising. He had hundreds of them.”

  “And he cast you?”

  Chase nodded. “It sounded like a good way to pick up a little extra cash, so I started in ads and moved to the soaps, and before I knew it there was a made-for-TV movie and then the series.”

  She shook her head in surprise.

  “Disgusting, isn’t it?” Chase said softly. “I haven’t even starved for the sake of my art.”

  She couldn’t help laughing at the hint of self-mockery in his voice. “Do you like movies better, or the television series?”

  He answered without hesitation. “Movies, because every one is so different.”

  “That’s interesting. I would have thought –”

  “And television, because I can go home every night and I like the role.”

  “So you’re really saying you’re not going to give up either.”

  Chase nodded. “I’m just a man who can’t make up his mind.”

  “But surely you don’t have to choose.”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes I think Nicky suffers for it.”

  “Do you always take him on location with you?”

  “Usually.”

  She thoughtfully finished off her hot chocolate. “I’m a bit worried about Nicky.”

  Chase tensed a little; she could feel his muscles tighten even though he wasn’t actually touching her. “Oh?”

  “Not about the chicken pox. That’s a nuisance, but not complicated. He’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll no doubt be lynched for bringing the damned disease to Springhill. Any kid who’s walked through the lobby lately has probably been exposed.”

  “We’ve had it here before,” Amanda said dryly. “It’s not like the bubonic plague. But that wasn’t what I meant. It’s hard to explain and it’s none of my business, but...”

  He cupped her chin in his palm and turned her face till she had to look at him. “You’re scaring me, now. Out with it.”

  “Chase, he’s perfectly all right with me. But what if someone else had picked him up? He didn’t even protest. Yes, he was sick – but to have a total stranger sweep him up and take him away from a familiar person... He should have been screaming bloody murder with every step.”

  “He wasn’t all that attached to Sally.”

  “I can understand why he wouldn’t have been, but –”

  “She’d only been with us for a few weeks.”

  “At least that helps explain why you hadn’t fired her before this.”

  Chase sighed. “She looked so good when the agency first sent her, and I thought maybe I was just being too demanding. I was hoping that with a little time... I knew Nicky hasn’t been his usual self the last few days, of course. Believe it or not, he’s normally got a sunny personality.”

  “When he gets his own way?” She smiled to take a little of the sting out of the remark.

  “Well, I’m sure that happens more often than is good for him. But I thought his bad attitude was mostly the change of scene, not the nanny.” He rubbed the back of his neck as if the muscles were tight and sore. “And now I have to start all over again.”

  Amanda took pity on him. “You don’t have to do anything tonight. Look, why don’t you get some sleep, Chase? Nicky’s not all that sick, you know, but if you want to be close, you can sack out in the den. If he wakes I’ll come and get you.”

  She almost didn’t disturb him, though. It was four in the morning when Nicky woke, and Chase was so sound asleep that she hated to rouse him. He was sprawled on the couch, one forearm substituting for a pillow. She stood for a moment and watched him in the dim light which spilled into the den from the sitting room, and thought that in his own way Chase looked as much like a sleeping angel as Nicky did.

  And that’s another delusion, she told herself. Even sound asleep the man had a certain magnetism – she could have stood there and watched him for hours – which had nothing to do with harps and halos.

  But she had promised, and so she leaned over him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Chase?”

  He roused instantly, but the deep brown eyes looked cloudy, as if he wasn’t quite sure where he was, or why. Then he focused on her, and he raised his fingertips to touch her face.

  The contact almost scorched her skin. Definitely he was not an angel, Amanda thought. “Nicky wants you,” she said softly.

  “Did he have a nightmare?” His voice sounded groggy.

  “No. He just wants some comfort.”

  Nicky gave a gurgling little chuckle at the sight of his father with the textured pattern of his sweater sleeve still deeply impressed on his cheek. Amanda had to bite her lip to keep from smiling at that, herself. The characters he played were always so elegant, even in the midst of mayhem, that it was hard to believe Chase Worthington wasn’t just as perfect in real life. Except that he was even more attractive, somehow, like this.

  “Tell the truth, Amanda,” Chase said. “This heartless little tyrant doesn’t want comfort. He thinks that just because he’s up, the rest of the world should be, too.” But his tone was soft, and the way he hugged Nicky left no doubt about his feelings.

  She left them there together and went back to her makeshift bed in the sitting room. She didn’t know how long Chase stayed with his son, for – knowing that she didn’t have to listen quite so closely for a little while – she went deeply asleep herself.

  The apartment was quiet when she woke, and sunshine was streaming in. Amanda felt warm and cozy and relaxed, until she stretched and realized just how bad a substitute the couch was for her own bed.

  But it was no wonder she felt so cozy, for the antique quilt was draped over her and carefully tucked in. She eyed it with a bit of suspicion. She was certain that quilt had been inside the trunk when she went to sleep. She hadn’t gotten it out herself because she was afraid to be too comfortable; she needed to stay on the edge of wakefulness, in case Nicky called for her.

  She folded the quilt and stored it in the trunk once more, atop the pile of scrapbooks. At least she’d had the sense not to put titles on the covers, she thought, so even if Chase had noticed the books, he would have no reason to suspect the things under the quilt might be of any interest to him.

  And it had been dear of him to be concerned about her comfort. Not only had he covered her, but he’d probably tiptoed out at the crack of dawn to avoid disturbing her...and Nicky, of course.

  Nicky’s fever was down, and he said his head felt better.

  “That’s good,” Amanda said. “Let’s pop you in the tub to soak while I fix your breakfast.”

  Nicky made a face. “Another bath? You’ll wear me out!”

  “It’ll help stop the itch.”

  He considered, and finally agreed. He was splashing merrily when the bellman knocked on the door. He had brought an enormous suitcase on a luggage cart. “Mr. Worthington said you’d need these things.”

  “Nicky’s clothes, I suppose? Not for a few days.”

  “It’s mostly toys, I think.”

  “I don’t need those, either – even if I had room for them.” Amanda opened the suitcase to be sure. The array of toys which filled the case would have been enough to stock a small store. She shook her head in amazement as she picked out a couple of games and a few small toys, then snapped the lid shut. “Take the rest back upstairs. What I really need, John, is a single bed set up in the den. Can you do that for me this morning?”

  “Mandy!” Nicky called from the bathroom.

  “I’ll be there in a minute, darling.”

  “Mandy, I’m hungry!”

  The bellman gave her a sympathetic look as he lifted the suitcase back onto the cart. “Sure, I’ll get the bed. I don’t envy you your job, Miss Bailey. I wouldn’t babysit with that little terror on a bet.”

  �
�Don’t be too sure. Before it’s over we may all be taking turns.”

  As she shut the door, Nicky appeared, dripping and dragging a towel. “I said I’m –”

  “I heard you, Nicky. What a nice loud voice you have.” She wrapped the towel around him. “But we have to get you completely dry first so you don’t catch a cold.”

  “I don’t want to be dry!” His voice rose to a steady wail. “I want a chocolate doughnut and I want it right now!”

  Amanda sat back on her heels and began to applaud.