Stroke of Fortune by Christine Rimmer Page A

inmate and died of the injury. “So we knew that your father couldn’t be the reason you left out of nowhere as you did.” Grace sat back against the cushions and looked steadily at Josie, giving her the chance to come up with some sort of explanation.
    Too bad she had none to give. Nothing she could say was going to make things any better. She would not tell Grace the truth—that she and Flynt had finally given in to the yearning that had grown too powerful for either of them to deny. They had given in and spent the night together in his bed. And then, the next morning, he had written her a check for ten thousand dollars and sent her away.
    No, she wouldn’t tell Grace that. She couldn’t. And she refused to make up any lies.
    Oh, what was she doing here? Obviously she had not thought this through. Assuming that Flynt would be handling the interviews, she’d had some crazy notion that he would simply hire her because she hadshowed up and applied for the job of caring for the baby he longed to believe was theirs.
    â€œWell?” said Grace, the papers in her hands rustling some more as she shifted on the sofa. “I’d like to understand, Josie. I truly would, but—”
    It wasn’t going to work. It was a bad idea. Josie stood. “I’m sorry. I thought…”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œOh, it doesn’t matter. I see now that I shouldn’t have come. I—I do regret if I caused your family any hardship, leaving so suddenly the way that I did. All I can really tell you is that I had a good reason. But it was a private reason, one I just can’t talk about.”
    Grace got to her feet. The coldness had left her eyes. “I’m sorry, too, Josie. You did a fine job for us. We had no complaints at all about the quality of your work.” They looked at each other across the inlaid coffee table. “However, this is a helpless infant we’re talking about now. I don’t think it would be wise to hire someone we weren’t certain we could count on one hundred percent.”
    Josie nodded. “It’s all right. I understand.”
    â€œUnderstand what?” The deep voice came from over by the door.
    A hot shiver skittered through Josie, a burning ripple of awareness sliding just below the surface of her skin. Flynt. He was a big man, but he could sure move quietly when he chose to. Josie hadn’t heard him enter the room.
    Apparently, neither had Grace. She put a hand to her throat. “Land sakes, Flynt Carson. What is it? Where’s that baby? I thought you were—”
    â€œAnita’s got her. She’s fine.” He was answering Grace, but his eyes were on Josie. That blue gaze moved over her, measuring, judging. She felt that raking look right down into the center of her soul. “Anita mentioned that you were here.”
    Grace said, “Josie came to see about the nanny job.”
    He didn’t even glance at his mother. “Yeah, Anita mentioned that, too.”
    Josie made herself smile and hoped it didn’t look too forced. She wished he’d stop staring at her. She’d kept her mouth shut about the two of them, but keeping quiet wouldn’t help if he was going to stare at her like that with his mama standing right there, looking on.
    â€œYes,” Josie said carefully. “But it hasn’t…worked out. I was just leaving.” She started to move for the door, hoping against hope that he’d simply move out of her way.
    So much for her hopes.
    He came striding toward her, the look in his eye freezing her in her tracks. He didn’t stop until he was standing right in front of her. “Stay. We’ll talk.”
    Grace was looking worried. “Flynt, honey, Josie said she’s leaving. I think we ought to just let her—”
    He cut her off with a movement of his arm—agesture toward the papers Grace held clutched in her fist. “Is that her