Free Nanny 911 by Julie Miller Page A

he must be feeling this, too, or he would have retreated by now. “I don’t get you, Miranda.”
    “I am a little different from the average woman,” she conceded wryly.
    It was the opening those niggling self-doubts needed to sneak inside her head. But when she lowered her gaze and looked away, Quinn’s hand was there, gently pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting her face back up to his. “One way or another, I’m going to figure you out.”
    It sounded like a vow.
    Any sensible reply lodged in her throat. As little as she knew about raising little girls, she knew even less about healthy romantic relationships with grown men.
    Fortunately, she was granted a reprieve from those shortcomings piling on the growing confusion inside her.
    “Daddy?” a soft voice called from the bedroom.
    Just like that, Quinn’s touch was gone. He took his uniquely masculine scent with him as he shoved his fingers through his already mussed hair and put the width of the hallway between them.
    “That shouldn’t have happened.”
    Miranda hugged her arms around her middle, feeling strangely chilled. “Nothing did.”
    Technically, that was true.
    Quinn’s jerky nod indicated that he didn’t quite believe that a sensual awareness hadn’t just erupted and continued to simmer between them, either. But she understood the signs of dismissal in his posture, and the need to return to the business at hand.
    “I’ll sit with Fiona for a few minutes and get her settled. David Damiani and the guards on duty at the house this evening are gathered in the command center to meet with you. He’ll get you a card for the electronic locks and explain the pass codes, panic rooms and security lockdown procedure.” Fiona called out again, and Quinn moved toward his daughter’s door. “The command center is down on the basement level. I’ll join you as soon as she’s asleep.”
    “Quinn?”
    “Please. Do not argue with me this one time.”
    “I was just going to say that I’ll do better with Fiona. I can get online tonight, or go to the library tomorrow. There have to be some tips and tricks somewhere to teach me how to do the nanny gig.”
    His eyes narrowed into that quizzical frown. “You’re doing just fine. I haven’t heard that kind of laughter from her for a long time. I’m the idiot who’s being too critical of too many things right now. I’m just…” His broad shoulders rose and fell with a weary sigh, letting her know that she wasn’t the only one plagued by self-doubt in this house. “I want to know who the hell has the nerve to threaten my daughter.”
    “We’ll find him,” Miranda promised. Although whether she was talking as a cop or a woman, she wasn’t sure. She checked her gun at her back and offered Quinn a smile. “Captain Cutler always says we have to trust the team. So let us all do our jobs. No one is going to hurt Fiona. Not on my watch.”
    Miranda just prayed that, for this overwhelmed father and his sweet little girl, she wasn’t the member of the team who let everyone down. Again.
     
    T HE IMAGE OF THE BLOND-HAIRED woman in the black uniform on the computer screen went dark at the punch of a button.
    This was an interesting new development. Imagine GSS, a global force in personal security technology, bringing in outside help to keep its own CEO and his daughter safe. It was ironic, really. So the king of Gallagher Security Systems was feeling insecure.
    That was satisfaction to take to the bank.
    Of course, having the woman on the premises would make it a little harder to get to Fiona Gallagher. But it wouldn’t be impossible, not by a long shot. It simply meant adding one more tally to the body count.
    A trail of dead bodies, from the Kalahari Desert to Kansas City, Missouri, would certainly put a crimp in the almighty Quinn Gallagher’s sterling reputation. If the man behind GSS couldn’t keep his own people safe, then why would anyone trust his company to protect them?