Outside New Orleans, convent-raised orphan Libby Sutton arrives to care for a little girl, only to discover that the child cannot or will not speak. Things are terribly wrong at Les Chenes. The first nanny disappeared without a trace and servants are now being murdered.
Is her life at risk like the child for whom she cares? Alex, the father, may be responsible and if he is, is he a threat to Libby? And why does he stir such feelings in her?
While I stood there, a man walked into the room, paused, glanced around, then gazed at me. He was tall, much taller than my five foot six inches. Thick black hair fell in waves over his head while his brown eyes snapped with displeasure as he glanced at me and the valise at my feet.
He stepped forward, bowed slightly then introduced himself.
"I am Monsieur Alexander Chambeau. Who are you?"
The smooth tones of his deep voice sped through me heating my blood. I stood statue still. His voice reached into my soul.
He was beautiful in a dangerous sort of way. His features would put a Greek god to shame. Could this be the father of the children for whom I was to care? However, he seemed to be waiting for a response from me.
As was my custom, I lowered my head, and gazed at the scrubbed wooden floor.
"How do you do," I murmured. "I am Elizabeth Sutton, the new nanny."
Courtesy demanded I acknowledge him. Hesitantly, I raised my head then extended my hand.
He took it, raised it to his lips and brushed my fingers with his warm breath. For an instant, I felt a searing heat race through my body. Shaken beyond anything I'd ever experienced, I grabbed my hand away and moved back a step.
His dark brown eyes seemed to read my thoughts. Yet, he seemed not at all affected.
"The children are not here at the moment," he said. "You might as well get settled. Your room is through there."
He pointed to a door off to the right, then backed through the open portal, nodded his head once and turned. I listened as the heels of his boots clicked down the wooden stairs.
