Donna Clayton - The Nanny's Plan

Take dinnertime, for instance. That first night they had talked in his study, he had told her that he’d like to join her and the boys for their evening meal. But Pierce apparently had become so wrapped up in his research that he’d worked straight through dinner the following two consecutive nights. So Amy had taken to making him a plate, wrapping it up so it wouldn’t dry out and slipping it into a warm oven so he’d have something to eat whenever he surfaced from his study or his lab or the greenhouse.

She stepped inside the building, cognizant that the air was warmer and more humid than outside. The greenhouse was long and fairly narrow, something you might find in a botanical garden rather than on someone’s personal property.

“Benjamin? Jeremiah?”

The foliage on the plants was thick and glossy and green, and the atmosphere took on a heavy feeling, rich with oxygen, as she made her way down one aisle.

“Over here,” she heard one of the boys call out.

“We’re helping Uncle Pierce,” the other said.

“Come join us, Amy.”

From the tone of Pierce’s voice he didn’t sound at all annoyed that the boys had invaded his space. When she reached them, she saw that the twins were standing on stools at a planting table. Both of them had dirt smeared up to their elbows. Jeremiah was tamping down soil in what looked to be a plastic seedling tray and Benjamin was accepting a palmful of tiny seeds from his uncle.

“These seeds are special, Amy,” Benjamin told her. “Uncle Pierce made ’em with cross-pollimation.”

“Cross-pollination,” Pierce corrected.

“And Uncle Pierce told us that seeds were first made like this,” Benjamin continued, “by a man who lost his mind.”

“Lost his mind? When did I say that?” Bewilderment bit into Pierce’s forehead.

Benjamin said, “You said he was mental.”

“Not mental.” Pierce chuckled as he shook his head. “Mendel. His name was Mendel. Gregor Mendel.”

“Oh.” The child looked momentarily confused. “I thought you were telling us that the guy was crazy to try to, you know…cross-pollimate plants.”

The sigh that issued from Pierce was brimming with good-humored surrender.

Jeremiah reached up and scratched his nose, smudging the bridge of it with soil. “Amy, I betcha didn’t know that there are mommy plants and daddy plants. Just like people. Uncle Pierce was telling us that when they rub on each other, they make seeds ‘steada babies.”

“Yeah,” Benjamin added without lifting his eyes from his work. “Plant sex.”

This completely unexpected detour in the conversation stunned Amy into silence. She lifted her gaze and saw that all the color had drained from Pierce’s handsome face. His lips parted in disbelief. Evidently he was having trouble finding his tongue, too.

What was so mind-blowing was not only what the twins had said, but also how they’d said it. They’d spoken as if the topic was no big deal, honestly detailing in their own words what Pierce had evidently explained to them.

The children didn’t even look up from the task at hand. Benjamin had passed his brother some of the seeds and their fingers were busy carefully sprinkling them over the soil in the seedling tray.

Her eyes locked on Pierce’s mortified green gaze. Heat flushed his face. He forced his jaw closed. He swallowed. Then he moistened his lips.

Finally he whispered, “That wasn’t quite how I put things. I never once mentioned the word sex.”

The situation struck a humorous chord in her all of a sudden, but the menacing look he gave her made it clear that he would not appreciate it if she surrendered to the laughter that bubbled in the back of her throat. So she did all she could to squelch it.

Evidently Benjamin noticed how quiet the adults had become. He lifted his chin, looked from Amy to his uncle.

“Oh, it’s okay, Uncle Pierce,” he said easily. “Me and Jeremiah know all about sex.”

His brother nodded, adding, “Daddy doesn’t know it, but our mommy watches soap operas.”

The candidness expressed by the children tickled Amy’s funny bone all the more. But Pierce didn’t seem to find any humor in the moment. He looked downright horrified.

“All done,” Benjamin announced. “Do we need to water the seeds, Uncle Pierce?”

“Yes. Go over there to the sink—” Pierce pointed the way “—and fill up the watering can.”

The boys scrambled down from the stools and raced off.

“No running,” Amy called out. “You’ll fall and hurt yourselves.”

She was in a quandary. She was trying hard not to smile, but she also felt awkwardness pressing in on them.

Then he murmured, “I’m going to have to speak to my sister about her television viewing habits.”

Amy could stand it no more. Laughter gurgled forth. Her hand flew to cover her lips. But air rushed between her fingers, her cheeks stretched in a wide grin, her shoulders shuddered up and down.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, but it was hopeless. “It’s just…funny.”

A corner of Pierce’s mouth quirked once, twice, and soon he was chuckling right along with her.

“It is pretty funny,” he agreed.

“What’s funny?” Jeremiah lugged the pail over, and it was so full that water sloshed over the rim.

Ignoring his nephew’s question, Pierce asked one of his own. “So you’ve decided to sprout those seeds hydroponically, huh?”

Benjamin’s whole face screwed up. “Hydro what?”

“In water,” he explained.

“But we’ve already planted ’em in dirt,” Jeremiah pointed out, confusion knitting his forehead.

“It was a joke,” Pierce told him. “Here, let me help you.”

He took the watering can and sprinkled the seeds.

Amy noticed how the muscles in his forearm firmed into long cords under his skin as he maneuvered the can. Like metal attracted by a magnetic current, she was helpless against the urge to move closer.

He smelled good. She didn’t want to notice the luscious heated scent of him, but she was helpless against that, as well.

“Are those seeds part of that new contract work you’ve started?” she asked, craning her neck to see around his shoulder.

“No, those are hybrids. I have several flats in different stages of growth, so I need to vigilantly protect them from any foreign pollen.”

After only a second, she gasped. “But I left the greenhouse door open.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “The seedlings are across the way in the lab, where I can monitor and control everything. Soil and air temperature, humidity, nutrient intake.”

Curiosity caught her in its grasp. “I’ve heard of hybrid plants. I’ve probably even seen them. But I’ve never been sure exactly what that term means.”

“Hybrid means heterogeneous in—” He stopped suddenly, twisting to face her as he seemed to rethink his explanation. “It means a plant or animal that’s the offspring of unlike parents.

“Hybrid plants are cultivated for different reasons,” he continued, his gaze becoming intense. “Sometimes people want flowers with variegated leaves or petals. Or bigger blossoms. Or a hardier root system.”

“And what are you going for?” she asked. “In your experiments, I mean.”

“I’m cultivating flowers for new scents. A perfumery in France has agreed to finance the experiments, and if I can cultivate something usable, they’ll get a portion of the seeds. I’ll get the right to patent the scent and publish the work in scientific journals.”

“So you’re going to grow flowers that smell different from any other flowers in the whole wide world?” Benjamin looked quite impressed.

“I’m trying. In fact, I’ve grown a small sample batch for their approval. They have those in their labs. And now I’m working on cultivating more seeds.”

“Cool.”

“Can we see your lab, Uncle Pierce?” Jeremiah asked.

“Not today, boys.”

They groaned and complained.

Amy wondered just how amazingly intelligent a person would have to be to take two different species of flower and create something brand-new, something that no one had ever seen—or smelled—before. There had been a passion sparkling in his gorgeous green eyes as he’d talked about his work, and she’d found that alluring.

“Some other time,” he told the boys. “I’ve got data books scattered about in there. I’ll have to clean up before you come look around. But I promise you can check everything out really soon, okay?”

Although they didn’t like it, they finally acquiesced. And as children usually do, they then quickly changed the subject.

“I’m hungry,” Jeremiah pronounced.

“Yeah.” Benjamin piped up, “I’m ready for some pancakes.”

“Both of you need to go get washed up before you do anything else,” their uncle told them.

“Let’s go!” They took flight down the row of plants.

“Slow down,” Pierce called after them. Then he directed his gaze at Amy. “What is it?” he asked her.

“N-nothing.” She was embarrassed that he’d caught her so deep in thought—about him. “I should make the boys their breakfast. I…I’m terribly sorry they barged in on you. I took a quick call from my dad.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yes, yes.” Her head bobbed. “He just wanted to say hi. I told him I’d call him later. I was only on the phone for a minute or two, but—” she grimaced “—Benjamin and Jeremiah were out of the house like a flash. I’ll try not to let it happen again.” She turned to leave.

“Wait.” His fingers slid over her forearm. “You really looked contemplative a second ago. You obviously had something on your mind. And I’d like to know what it was.”

What would it hurt to tell him? Anyone could have had the same reaction to all that he’d revealed.

“I was just overwhelmed by the very idea of it,” she said. “The thought of creating something original. Something that, well—” she decided Benjamin’s words had been perfect “—no one else in the whole world has ever seen.”

“It’s nothing, really.”

His tone was low. Soothing as a cool hand against a warm brow. Her skin tingled as if he were actually stroking her face with his fingertips.

“Just a little plant sex.”

Pierce’s green eyes glittered mischievously…and Amy burst out laughing.

Later that night Amy was unable to sleep, so she crept down the darkened hallway and into the bathroom. The origin of this edginess jittering through her was unknown, but there was nothing that a good long soak couldn’t cure.

She’d already taken her hair down and had given it a good brush when she’d gotten ready for bed. Twisting the length of it, she pinned it up so it wouldn’t get wet. Then she turned on the taps and adjusted the water temperature.

Untying the sash of her robe, she shrugged it off and let it fall in a heap to the floor. She tugged her nightgown over her head, pulled off her panties and then stepped into the bathtub.

She’d had an exhausting day. Maybe her problem was that she was simply overtired.

When she’d suggested to the boys that they make cupcakes, Benjamin and Jeremiah had eagerly gathered the eggs, the flour, the sugar and the cooking utensils. By the time they had finished the job, though, the kitchen had been a mess. She’d packed up some sandwiches, fruit, juice and a few cupcakes, and they had gone outside in the backyard for a picnic. Then they had spent the entire afternoon running among the trees and shrubs.

But time and again, Amy had found her gaze drifting to the greenhouse. Pierce had intruded on her thoughts every few moments, and her mind had been bombarded by all sorts of questions.