The Texas Billionaire’s Bride Read online

  He remained distant, over on his side of the table. “We’re hardly perfect.”

  “Then you should tell your PR people to stop selling that image,” she said lightly. “The media seems to think that the Foleys are the epitome of what’s good about our country.”

  His tone grew taut. “You’ve been looking into my family, have you?”

  How could she deny it? News about the business doings of the Foleys, whose holdings had started from a few oil rigs to an empire based on prime real estate and media interests, was legion. Then there were all their charitable causes, behind-the-scenes political power plays and even the social adventures of Zane’s brother, Jason. Hard to ignore, when the media—and the nation—was fascinated with them, even if Zane, himself, tended to avoid the limelight.

  “I only did my research,” she said, “because I need to make sure you’re the right family for me, just as you’re making sure I’m right for you.”

  Her smile returned full force, but not because she was trying to win him over this time. She was remembering the freckled nose and doe eyes of his daughter. There’d only been a short introduction, yet it’d been enough to convince Melanie that she didn’t belong anywhere else in this world. Something about Olivia had profoundly tugged at Melanie, maybe because the girl reminded her of herself—a little lost and isolated.

  Zane Foley didn’t return her smile. In fact, he seemed intent on avoiding it, while the sun from outside shifted enough to slant a patch of red from the stained glass over the strong angles of his face.

  Her chest went tight.

  “I like your optimism,” he said. “You’d need quite a bit of it with Livie, you know. As I pointed out during our first interview, she’s gone through five nannies in six years.”

  “I remember.” Her former employer had already cautioned Melanie. After Olivia’s mom had passed away, the girl had rejected everyone she perceived to be taking her mom’s place.

  Melanie had known from the start that this wouldn’t be an easy job; but she wanted to make a difference in the girl’s life, because she sure wished someone had made a difference earlier in her own.

  “My daughter’s a handful,” he said. “I’ll make no bones about that.”

  “I’ve got more perseverance than you can imagine.”

  “Your predecessors thought they had it, too. And on their way out the door, most of them even told me that I ought to think about applying some of that perseverance I show in my own business to my household.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Just to give you fair warning, I don’t employ nannies to get advice from them.”

  Melanie kept eye contact, thinking that there was a chink in the steeliness of his gaze—a darkness that showed more than just that notorious arrogance.

  “Mr. Foley,” she said softly, “I’d never presume to judge anyone.”

  He stared at her a beat longer, then sat back in his chair again, even though he didn’t let up with his gaze. It held her, screwed into her, until a slight thrill traveled her veins.

  “The family businesses are important to me,” he said. “Among other things, they’re Livie’s legacy, and I intend to give her a great one. As an only child, she’ll take over all of my share one day, the oil holdings, as well as real-estate interests.”

  He said it as if he planned to never get married or have children again. In some weird way, that got to Melanie.

  But…jeez. Like she should even be mulling over his most intimate decisions.

  “I’m sure your daughter will be grateful for everything you do,” she said.

  “You should also know that I spend a lot of time defending our investments, not just building them up. That’s what takes up the majority of my schedule, and the work’s too important for me to spend as much time in Austin with Livie as most people expect.”

  “Right,” she said, figuring she would show him just how much research she’d done. “I read that you have to defend against people like the McCords.”

  His mouth tightened once more, this time at the name of the family who’d been taking part in a well-known feud with the Foleys for generations.

  Oops. She made a mental note never to mention them again.

  Zane Foley seemed eager to be rid of the subject. “The bottom line is this—my commitments require a lot of me, and that’s why I need someone to depend on for Livie. Someone who’s more or less my proxy, enforcing my rules and raising her the way I need her to be raised.”

  She chafed at his authoritarian tone. What was his daughter to him—another project to develop, like the ones he oversaw in his office?

  But Olivia—Livie—was a little girl, and—from what Melanie had seen in her eyes, even for the few minutes they’d conversed—she needed more than rules and routines.

  Melanie was on the cusp of saying so when she remembered how much she wanted this job.

  “I understand, Mr. Foley,” she said instead, keeping the peace, even if she didn’t really understand him at all.

  He gave her one last look from those striking hazel eyes, and she fortified herself against it—almost successfully, too. He only got her tummy to flip one more time.

  Then he rose from his chair, leaving her dossier and portfolio on the table.

  Melanie held her breath. Was the interview over?

  But he only walked away from the table, toward the hushed hallway.

  When he saw that she wasn’t following, he waited, and she realized that he wanted her to come, too.

  Okay then.

  As she stood, she grabbed her suit jacket from the back of her chair, then smoothed down the skirt of the only conservative business outfit she owned.

  She made her way across the room to him, her heels clopping on the hard floor, echoing way too loudly for her comfort.

  He avoided the door and led her down the hall.

  Where was he taking her?

  “Livie will receive a full education,” he said, beginning to fire off his expectations, “even when she’s not in school.”

  “I’m prepared to teach Livie,” she said, excitement churning. He was going to make an offer! “With Ms. Sandoval’s daughter, Toni, I planned a different learning experience every day, and doing the same here would be wonderful.”

  “Livie would benefit from your dance background in particular.”

  Melanie’s blood jolted, but then she realized he was probably talking about all the classes, from ballet to jazz to hip-hop, she’d taken. “Livie has taken dance before?”

  “No, but she needs to let out her energy in a constructive manner.”

  “I see.”

  “Other than that, her schedule is set. Firm. Don’t deviate from it, because she responds well to structure. It might be your biggest saving grace.”

  Based on Zane Foley’s well-ordered townhouse, as well as all his comments, Melanie wondered if, when she arrived in Austin, she would find Livie inhabiting something like a high-class jail.

  Fuming inwardly, she told herself to stay quiet. You want this job, you need this job, so keep your opinions to yourself for now.

  They came to what looked to be a study, with more dark, finely etched antique furniture carefully placed about the room: a desk set that held a laptop computer and organized files, a curio cabinet, shelves teeming with leather-bound books that lent the air a thick, musty scent.

  There were also large, framed paintings on the walls, the biggest being an old family portrait of the Foleys that featured brothers Jason and Travis, both of whom couldn’t have been more than ten years old at the time, even though Travis looked a little younger. They stood next to their dad, Rex, an affable looking man with a charming grin. Then there was Olivia Marie, their deceased mom, who wore her own gentle smile as she hooked her arm through Rex’s.

  On the fringes of them all was Zane, who even in his early teens seemed to carry himself with a combination of cockiness and seriousness.

  When Melanie glanced away from the portrait, she found that Zane was behind h
er, standing in front of a different painting. Livie’s.

  A recent depiction of a sweet little girl in a pink dress, her wavy dark hair held back by a lacy headband. She smiled faintly and held a stuffed lamb.

  The picture got to Melanie, yet it was the expression on Zane’s face that just about melted her altogether.

  Naked love and devotion.

  But then it turned into something else—destruction—and Melanie wondered what could have possibly turned one emotion into the other so quickly.

  As Zane stared at his daughter’s portrait, he wasn’t seeing Livie so much as someone else entirely. Danielle.

  His wife, dead six years now, but still so agonizingly alive in the face of his daughter.

  He couldn’t stand the questions that always came afterward: would Livie grow up to be just like her mother? Would his daughter break her own husband’s heart someday, too?

  Would she have the same mood swings—from dark to manic—that had escalated into that awful day when Danielle had taken her own life?

  He glanced away, his attention locking on the svelte figure of Melanie Grandy. With sunny blond hair that swept her shoulders and blue eyes that seemed to sparkle even when she wasn’t smiling, she was the opposite of Danielle and Livie. But from her heart-shaped face to her ill-fitting blue business suit that he supposed she’d purchased just for these interviews—she’d worn the skirt the other day, too—he got the impression of vulnerability. A leggy wisp of a woman, she might not be so different from Danielle after all.

  At his inspection, she raised her chin, a habit he’d become familiar with even during their short acquaintance.

  No, this woman had a core to her. She also had an innate dignity that sent a buzz of heat through his veins.

  Raw beauty, he thought, flashes of an unpolished diamond lighting his mind’s eye.

  But the glare of it made him realize that there was no room for any kind of attraction, especially since she seemed to be a perfect fit for Livie. And thank God for Andrea Sandoval’s timely reference, because the last nanny had quit, leaving Zane at loose ends. He’d needed a quick hire, and since Ms. Grandy didn’t have a criminal record and had come with the highest recommendation from a family friend, he seized the opportunity.

  It was just a bonus that his daughter would match well with her new nanny. Livie required someone with spine enough to stand tall and firm, as Ms. Grandy had gracefully done throughout their interviews.

  He chanced one last, long second of looking at her, turning the air into a humid fog.

  And she seemed to feel it, too. He could’ve sworn it, because she set her jacket on a nearby end table and folded her hands in front of her while concentrating on the picture, a pink tint to her cheeks.

  He got back to business, as well.

  Always business. Safer that way.

  He moved toward his computer, then woke it out of hibernation mode. He’d brought Ms. Grandy into his study to show her the virtual layout of the Austin estate where Livie resided, but even so, he held off on opening the computer file.

  She was still back at Livie’s portrait.

  “She’s a beautiful child,” Ms. Grandy said, and he could sense that she was being genuine in the compliment. “I can’t wait to start our first day, maybe with some art, where she can express ideas that she might be too shy to say out loud right away.”

  “The last time a nanny got the paint out she was scrubbing it off Livie for what seemed like hours. It was even supposed to be washable.”

  He could see a battle playing over Melanie Grandy’s face, and it wasn’t the first time. She was clearly wondering if she should put in her own two cents about her child-rearing philosophies, instead of listening to his own cynical point of view.

  The other nannies had always kept quiet, but when Ms. Grandy spoke, he was pleasantly surprised that she even dared, although it raised his hackles, as well.

  “I’m not afraid of some extra cleanup,” she said, “if it’s the result of something positive for Livie. Maybe she’s the type who would benefit from stepping out of that structure she’s so used to?”

  Now he wasn’t even pleasantly surprised with her.

  She obviously noticed. “Mr. Foley, I’m not suggesting anything radical. I’m only interested in getting to know Livie.”

  He didn’t tell Ms. Grandy that, aside from that one out-of-control paint day, his daughter generally liked to keep her dresses and hands clean—and it wasn’t just at his insistence.

  Or was it?

  Guilt set in, just as it always did when he thought too hard about how he’d raised—or not raised—his girl. That’s why it was better that he’d adopted such a hands-off policy; he was far more adequate at shaping Foley Industries and concentrating on other important matters, like keeping those damned McCords in line.

  Plus, he didn’t know anything about females at all. That was apparent from what he’d let happen to Danielle.

  Melanie was still smiling as she looked at his daughter’s portrait, and his heart cracked at how a stranger could so openly display emotion for Livie, when he had such a hard time himself.

  He opened the computer file that contained the slides of Tall Oaks.

  “Ms. Grandy,” he said.

  She glanced at him, and he could see the hope in her eyes.

  He didn’t let that affect him. He and hope had parted company a while ago.

  “When can you start?” he asked.

  She beamed with one of those warm smiles. “When do you want me, Mr. Foley?”

  He couldn’t help thinking that, despite the temptation, on a personal level the answer to that would have to be “never.”

  Chapter Two

  After accepting the job and then rushing through a whirlwind of formalities, such as a salary agreement and a computer-aided tour of Zane Foley’s Austin estate, Melanie had followed her new employer down the hall and to the foyer, barely able to contain a bubbly grin.

  Success!

  Melanie Grandy, nanny for the eldest Foley’s daughter. She liked the ring of it, and when she found out that she was to be driven in a town car to her motel, where she would pick up her two pitiful suitcases before heading straight to Austin and Livie, she already felt as if she were flying first class.

  Okay, maybe business class, because it wasn’t a limo, but, heck, she’d live.

  As they came to a halt near a leather settee under a gilt-veined mirror, she tried not to be too aware of how their image reflected him towering over her. Tried not to get fanciful about how they stood side-by-side, a tense space the only thing separating them.

  She fairly hummed from head to toe, as if charged by his presence, but…No. She’d worked hard to get here, and jeopardizing her new position by stepping out of bounds with her new boss had to be the worst idea in all creation.

  She tried not to look in the mirror again: his strapping body, his Texas-noble bearing…

  “The drive to Tall Oaks is nearly three and a half hours,” he said, thankfully interrupting her weakening will to stop lusting after him. “It should give my staff enough time to put together the final paperwork for your hiring and then fax whatever we need to sign.”

  “I’ll look for those papers when I get there then.”

  “Mrs. Howe might even have the documents in hand when you arrive. She’s got run of the house and has been taking care of Livie since the last nanny left less than a week ago.”

  “I look forward to meeting everyone at Tall Oaks,” she said, extending her hand for a deal-closing shake. “Again, thank you. I was really hoping you’d choose me to be a part of Livie’s life.”

  And there it was again—that flash of anguish in his gaze.

  But then he took her hand in his, wrapping his long fingers around hers.

  Warm, strong…

  For a moment she forgot that she was supposed to be shaking his hand. He must’ve forgotten also, because the hesitation between them lasted a second too long—one in which her heartbeat
fell into a suspended throb.

  As she pulled in a breath, his eyes darkened back to the cool, detached gaze that had already become so familiar.

  But how could she be used to anything about him when she didn’t know him at all? she reminded herself, coming to her senses and finally gripping his hand in a professional shake.

  She doubted she would ever really know Zane Foley, and that was for the best.

  They disengaged, and he stepped away from her. “I anticipate that you’ll be around much longer than the other five.”

  As he began to walk away, she said, “I sure will.”

  He paused for a moment, and she thought that maybe he was about to say something else.

  But then he moved on, traveling with the ease of a shadow lengthening at sunset, until he blended into the dark of the hallway.

  Melanie watched him go, her heartbeat near the surface of her skin.

  But she had to get over it; this was her chance to prove that she really was better than the girl who hadn’t been expected by her stepdad to do much more than be “bastard issue.”

  She exhaled, sitting on the leather settee by the door and preparing for the responsibilities ahead of her. Livie—the child who would depend on Melanie to raise her to be all she could be, too.

  A stately grandfather clock stood across from her, ticking, tocking, marking the passing seconds as Melanie waited for the driver. Meanwhile, her excitement leveled off to something like a Champagne buzz.

  She wondered what the Austin estate would look like in real life, how different it would be from her and her mom’s first ramshackle apartment, then the trailer that had served as home back in the day.

  On a sigh, she went to grab her suit jacket and purse, preparing for the moment she would walk out this door and into the car, where she would be driven off and away to find out.

  Her purse was there, but not her jacket.

  She remembered that she’d brought it into Zane Foley’s study, putting it down when she’d been looking at the portrait of Livie.

  Duh. She’d been too excited by the job offer to pick it back up again.