Over the years, fantasies of Colt had sustained her through a bleak parade of countless foster homes. With each new place, she’d curl up in some quiet spot and pretend Colt was coming to get her. At last she’d have someone to love her forever. That was the best thing about fantasies. In her constant moves, she had to leave people, places and things, but never Colt. He was permanently with her, if only in her heart. Even now, as a grown woman who knew better than to indulge in fantasies, the teenage memory came back warm and inviting.

She wanted to go to him, lie down on that bed beside him, press her lips to his and feel their magic once again. She might very well have done it, if young Mr. Evan Parker hadn’t chosen that exact moment to awaken, his cry ripping the quiet with the force of a jackhammer.

Startled into action, Kati backed into the hall, but not before Colt also awakened. Sexy, sleepy brown eyes locked with hers seconds before she beat a hasty retreat toward the nursery.

Colt struggled upward from a heavy slumber. Somewhere a baby cried. The heavy weight of responsibility pressed in on him. A baby. The baby needed him. He had to get there. Through sheer force of will he yanked his protesting eyelids upward. A woman stood at the end of his bed.

Hell’s bells, the whole world had gone berserk. Babies crying. Women skulking around.

Colt leaped off the bed only to stumble over his own boots. With a vicious kick he sent them sailing across the room where they thudded against the pale green wall. The pain in his toe radiated to his brain, jolting him to wakefulness. Confusion cleared, and memory returned. Evan was calling him.

Heart still pounding, toe throbbing, he limped across the hall to the nursery. The door stood open, and the new nanny was bent over Evan’s crib, talking softly as her hands busily changed his diaper. So that’s who’d been in his room. He wondered why.

Colt stood outside the door and watched her, anxious that she do a good job. Evan was a sweet little critter who’d gotten under Colt’s skin more than he wanted to admit. And if Miss Loony Toon didn’t do right by the boy, she’d be out the door by sundown.

Once the baby was changed Kati disappeared into the bathroom, washed her hands and returned to scoop Evan into her arms. His crying became a high-pitched wail Colt recognized as hunger.

“Time for a bottle,” he said, lounging against the door frame.

Kati jumped and spun around. Her face flushed bright red. “I… I…where are they?”

He hitched his chin in the direction of the hall. “Come on, I’ll show you. Cookie has a supply already fixed.”

He led the way into the kitchen, removed a bottle from the refrigerator and quickly warmed it in the microwave. Three weeks of child care had taught him more than he’d ever wanted to know about a baby’s needs.

After shaking a bit of milk onto his wrist, he determined it safe and reached for Evan. “I’ll feed him.”

“I can do it.” Grabbing the bottle, she turned abruptly and sailed out of the kitchen.

Colt frowned, watching the sway of her long, dark hair as she scuttled down the hall like a frightened kitten. What was that all about?

He followed her back to the nursery where she sat in the rocker holding Evan.

“What were you doing in my room?” he asked as abruptly as she’d left the kitchen.

She blushed deeply, and the color bathed her pale skin in a downright appealing pink.

“Well, I wasn’t stealing the silver,” she replied stiffly. “Having only just arrived, I was trying to locate the nursery.”

Her rigid voice and stiff back said she was offended. He hadn’t accused her of anything, but she seemed to think he had. Was that the problem? She thought he was checking up on her? Well, he was, wasn’t he? For Evan’s sake.

Face averted, she turned her attention to the baby. A long strand of chestnut-colored hair fell over her shoulder onto the baby. Holding Evan with one hand while balancing the bottle with her chin, Kati used the free hand to gather the smooth, dark tresses into a ponytail which she then drew over her opposite shoulder.

Colt followed the action, thinking what beautiful hair she had. This afternoon she’d been groomed like a businesswoman with one of those sleek up-dos. Somewhere since he’d seen her last, she’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt and let down her long, glorious hair.

She wasn’t what he’d consider a particularly beautiful woman, but she exuded a kind of feminine grace he found uniquely alluring. She wore little makeup, but her skin was clear and soft looking, her lips full and gently curving. Thick black lashes framed a pair of large gray eyes and cast shadows against her cheeks.