Emma walked faster, heart pounding. A dark figure loomed ahead. She tried to dodge, letting out a muffled cry, but strong hands grabbed her in a tight grip. "Let me go!" "Not a chance," the man growled. She kicked and struggled, but he held firm. "Hold still and let me see you," he ordered. A flashlight beam hit her face. She blinked and turned away. "Who are you?" he demanded. Emma already knew. This had to be the chauvinist brother himself. She gave a small, stifled laugh. "I'm looking after your sister's children." "You're not their French nanny."
