Enemy Mine by Lindsay McKenna

Author:Lindsay McKenna [McKenna, Lindsay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, General
ISBN: 9780373770793
Publisher: Mills & Boon
Published: 2004-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“I DON’T LIKE THAT!” Tiki jabbed her index finger at the breakfast plate that the waiter had just brought her from the kitchen.

So much for her first day of work. Kathy hadn’t been here an hour and Tiki was already in rebellion. She sat with the child at a small table in the rear of her playroom, where she ate her meals. Kathy had spent the short amount of time she’d been there acquainting herself with the little girl, her habits, her likes and dislikes.

Where was Sophie? Kathy hadn’t had time to look for her, and suspected she was probably back in the bedroom area.

Looking at the uninspiring scrambled eggs and thinly sliced bacon with some french-fried potatoes, Kathy didn’t blame her for her disinterest.

“Is there anything you do like there, Tiki?” She pointed to the plate in front of the child.

Poking at the rubbery bacon, she said, “This. I like this.” Tiki quickly grabbed a strip and started to eat it.

“Whoa, kiddo. This is knife-and-fork time….” Kathy took the meat out of her hands. Smiling patiently, she wiped off the girl’s mouth and fingers. “Now, I know your other nanny taught you manners. You’re a young lady and you need to use good table manners.” She picked up the fork and placed it in Tiki’s hand, the knife in the other. The girl scowled. Getting up, Kathy positioned herself behind the child and guided her to cut up her meat. Tiki seemed mollified by this attention and mimicked her directions.

Though worried when Tiki still ate only a few ounces of meat, and drank only soda pop, not milk, Kathy gave up on coaxing her to eat more. She thanked Mateo, the nervous-looking servant, who whisked away the un-eaten portions.

She was still sitting with Tiki at the table when she heard a child crying softly. It had to be Sophie. Frowning, Kathy turned and cocked her ear toward the faint sounds.

“Tiki? Do you hear that? Who’s crying?” she asked as she patted the little girl’s bow mouth with a napkin.

“Oh, that’s Sophie. She cries all the time.”

“Really? Can you show me where Sophie’s bedroom is?”

Tiki scooted off her chair and over to a door on the other side of the room. “Sure!”

Kathy followed, keeping her expression neutral.

“Sophie’s here,” she said, stretching and pushing open the door. Tiki then ran across the hall and stood proudly in front of another door.

“This is my room!” The girl bounded inside.

Peeking in, Kathy smiled and said, “Yes, it is. And a very nice room it is.” It was a simple room with a twin bed, one window with iron bars across it and lots of toys, especially blond-haired Barbie dolls scattered helter-skelter across the freshly made bed. Kathy made a mental note to teach Tiki about taking responsibility for her bedroom.

In Kathy’s opinion, the room was nondescript. Tiki didn’t have personal identification with her room. What did she like? What were her favorite colors? Tucking those questions away, Kathy turned and walked back across the hall to the door where the crying was coming from.

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