replacement.”
“Until Grandmother leaves,” Bennie chimed in.
“Pure coincidence.” Tyler averted his gaze. He couldn’t fill Bennie in on the details about the theft and Lucky’s true identity. She might slip up and spill the news to Helen. “Miss Myers is very kind to have agreed to stay and help us, so I want you to cooperate and be nice, is that clear?”
“Since when am I not nice, Daddy?”
Tyler gave her a knowing look. “You want the full list?”
Bennie turned red and shook her head. “I’ll behave. I’ll act like the perfect lady.” She gave him a kiss and left.
Lucky joined him in the library a little while later. She’d turned her shirt around, the material molding to her perfect breasts the way the slacks clung to her hips. The clothes were a little too small to look elegant. Inviting, yes. Elegant?
Forget inviting. He needed elegant.
“If you’re going to pull this off for two weeks, then we have to prepare. There are certain things Helen will expect you to know. Proper etiquette, culture, who’s who in Houston—things like that. We’ll start tonight.”
“Start what?”
“Lessons,” he said, pulling a few leather volumes from the shelves. “Here,” he said, handing her the books. “Start reading these.”
“ Wine-tasting Made Easy and What Not to Say at the Dinner Table. You’re kidding, right?”
He shook his head. “The Dalton Agency doesn’t peddle your average nanny/baby-sitter. We’re talking educated, sophisticated women. Dalton nannies are trained for the wealthiest families.”
“Obviously.” Her gaze dropped to the books in her hands. “Gifts from your mother-in-law?”
“Actually, they were my mother’s,” he said, wondering why he didn’t just keep his trap shut. Her gaze lifted, connected with his. That’s why. She had eyes that begged him to talk, to pour out his soul. Damn, she was good.
“Trying to better herself?” Lucky asked.
“Trying to better the rest of us,” he replied.
“So she didn’t go for the rugged-cowboy type?”
He shook his head. “She liked the three-piece suit, pocket-full-of-money type that doesn’t sweat or get his hands dirty.”
She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners, sparkling with honesty and something else. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with a little dirt and sweat. It builds character, or that’s what my daddy always said. So where is your mother now?”
“She and my dad divorced when I was sixteen. She left and I went to live with her.”
“You two must have been close.”
Tyler sighed. “There was no being close to my mother, though I tried. I went to the right schools, had the right friends, wore the right clothes, even married the right woman according to my mother’s standards. Nannette, Bennie’s mom, was as blue-blooded as they come. She was perfect. Beautiful, smart, a product of good breeding and heir to one of the oldest fortunes in Houston.”
“Did you love her?”
“You cut right to the chase, don’t you?”
She smiled. “I’ve always been very straightforward. So answer the question. Did you?”
“We weren’t in love, if that’s what you mean. I loved the idea that my mother was so taken with her, and she liked the idea of dating someone her parents didn’t approve of.”
“You? But you’re smart and handsome and—”
“I’m the son of a lowly rancher,” he corrected, unable to stifle a surge of pleasure at her quick defense. “My father is self-made. His father was a sharecropper. Peasant stock compared to royalty.”
“Nonsense, people are people. We all put our pants on one leg at a time. So you do it in a fifty-room mansion in River Oaks, while I’m in a one-room efficiency on the south side. We’re still doing the same thing.”
It sounded so simple—too simple to someone who’d spent his life trying to measure up, and too close to the truth. He pulled another volume from the shelf and handed it to her.
She smiled and clasped the books to
“Until Grandmother leaves,” Bennie chimed in.
“Pure coincidence.” Tyler averted his gaze. He couldn’t fill Bennie in on the details about the theft and Lucky’s true identity. She might slip up and spill the news to Helen. “Miss Myers is very kind to have agreed to stay and help us, so I want you to cooperate and be nice, is that clear?”
“Since when am I not nice, Daddy?”
Tyler gave her a knowing look. “You want the full list?”
Bennie turned red and shook her head. “I’ll behave. I’ll act like the perfect lady.” She gave him a kiss and left.
Lucky joined him in the library a little while later. She’d turned her shirt around, the material molding to her perfect breasts the way the slacks clung to her hips. The clothes were a little too small to look elegant. Inviting, yes. Elegant?
Forget inviting. He needed elegant.
“If you’re going to pull this off for two weeks, then we have to prepare. There are certain things Helen will expect you to know. Proper etiquette, culture, who’s who in Houston—things like that. We’ll start tonight.”
“Start what?”
“Lessons,” he said, pulling a few leather volumes from the shelves. “Here,” he said, handing her the books. “Start reading these.”
“ Wine-tasting Made Easy and What Not to Say at the Dinner Table. You’re kidding, right?”
He shook his head. “The Dalton Agency doesn’t peddle your average nanny/baby-sitter. We’re talking educated, sophisticated women. Dalton nannies are trained for the wealthiest families.”
“Obviously.” Her gaze dropped to the books in her hands. “Gifts from your mother-in-law?”
“Actually, they were my mother’s,” he said, wondering why he didn’t just keep his trap shut. Her gaze lifted, connected with his. That’s why. She had eyes that begged him to talk, to pour out his soul. Damn, she was good.
“Trying to better herself?” Lucky asked.
“Trying to better the rest of us,” he replied.
“So she didn’t go for the rugged-cowboy type?”
He shook his head. “She liked the three-piece suit, pocket-full-of-money type that doesn’t sweat or get his hands dirty.”
She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners, sparkling with honesty and something else. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with a little dirt and sweat. It builds character, or that’s what my daddy always said. So where is your mother now?”
“She and my dad divorced when I was sixteen. She left and I went to live with her.”
“You two must have been close.”
Tyler sighed. “There was no being close to my mother, though I tried. I went to the right schools, had the right friends, wore the right clothes, even married the right woman according to my mother’s standards. Nannette, Bennie’s mom, was as blue-blooded as they come. She was perfect. Beautiful, smart, a product of good breeding and heir to one of the oldest fortunes in Houston.”
“Did you love her?”
“You cut right to the chase, don’t you?”
She smiled. “I’ve always been very straightforward. So answer the question. Did you?”
“We weren’t in love, if that’s what you mean. I loved the idea that my mother was so taken with her, and she liked the idea of dating someone her parents didn’t approve of.”
“You? But you’re smart and handsome and—”
“I’m the son of a lowly rancher,” he corrected, unable to stifle a surge of pleasure at her quick defense. “My father is self-made. His father was a sharecropper. Peasant stock compared to royalty.”
“Nonsense, people are people. We all put our pants on one leg at a time. So you do it in a fifty-room mansion in River Oaks, while I’m in a one-room efficiency on the south side. We’re still doing the same thing.”
It sounded so simple—too simple to someone who’d spent his life trying to measure up, and too close to the truth. He pulled another volume from the shelf and handed it to her.
She smiled and clasped the books to
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