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much for toughing it out. More like melting completely.
    Maddie took firm, sensible control of herself and her wayward hormones. ‘Leave coffee to me – go shave. Nanny’s here and on the case.’
    ‘Bossy nanny too. You always like this in the mornings?’
    Maddie didn’t flinch. ‘Twenty four seven. Get used to it, Mr. Sutherland. I may be bossy but I get things done.’
    His lips made tiny movements that told of hesitation. ‘Sure a shower’s okay?’
    Nodding, she kept her attention on the son. Not the father. She shooed him with her fingers. ‘I’m positive. Go, freshen up; I can’t handle seeing you messy. Where’s my clean-cut boss gone?’
    ‘Ah, the cheeky streak’s returned. Now I remember why sometimes I get the urge to fire you.’
    ‘You’re desperate, remember. I jumped to your aid, which makes me indispensable even if I am your worst nightmare. Anyway, I like Josh, so I’m not leaving yet.’
    Lyle stared at her. ‘I’d better freshen up to nanny’s standards then. Back in a tick when I’m gorgeous.’
    She feigned unimpressed. ‘You can try.’
    Whew. Already this was tougher than tough.

    Twenty minutes later Lyle was more suitably dressed after his shower break. Dark graphite chinos, palest grey shirt – a semblance of order and his bed-head hair was even tamed. Only problem was – how to handle the new addition to his home?
    Secretly he resented that Maddie’s appearance registered with him. Trim bootleg trousers and an ice blue soft sweater that gently hugged each delectable curve. He didn’t need to be noticing these things. But he was also grateful and relieved she’d permitted him composure time. He’d needed it.
    ‘Today’s set to be busy,’ he confided. ‘Josh has nursery this afternoon. It’s Italian food day. But he forgot to tell me until ten minutes before you arrived. Which means I have to conjure up spaghetti.’
    ‘You sure tomato sauce is a good idea in a shirt that colour?’ Maddie stifled a grin and nodded to his pearl grey designer shirt.
    ‘Point taken. Might need a rethink. Or to change again.’
    ‘Who needs the laundry risk and recipe repertoire challenges? When in doubt go to a professional.’
    ‘Professional?’ Lyle looked confused.
    ‘I have a great social network. A nanny always has all bases covered.’
    ‘Maddie. You don’t just have bases covered. You have an answer for everything – which perplexes me more than a little. I swear you get worse every single day.’
    This morning could have gone better. One look at the wall planner and he’d realised he needed a spreadsheet to work out Josh’s routines. The situation jarred with his desire to appear the perfect dad. Capable, self sufficient. He’d simply run out of time and hadn’t bargained on how demanding prepping breakfast and dressing a four-year-old could be. Or how little he’d appreciated Brigitta’s capabilities and multitasking magic.
    But having Maddie arrive, witnessing his state of unshaven chaos, caused a pang of hurt pride.
    Lyle could pretend to be in control all he liked but he wasn’t and he knew it. She did too. He was just a struggling dad in another hour of need. His son was facing his first proper Christmas with him solo in Scotland and now his nanny had made a speedy exit; the last thing Josh needed. All Lyle wanted was an end to the upheaval, the stress. He wanted this to work.
    And he didn’t need to find his hormones responding to Brigitta’s replacement. He had to keep remembering he was a no woman zone.
    ‘Spaghetti sounds interesting. But maybe I can do better?’ Maddie’s look encouraged him. ‘How about we drop by an Italian deli instead – I happen to know the best around. My Uncle Marco’s place is awesome.’
    ‘He wouldn’t mind?’
    ‘Not at all. Marco loves showing off and giving guided tours.’
    ‘You really do take charge, don’t you?’ Lyle said. His voice teased, his eyes sparkled in challenge.
    ‘Isn’t that what you pay me