Billionaire's Nanny (A Billionaire Romance)

by Alexa Davis

  Her heart was arrhythmic, but continuing to get stronger by the time Dr. Pallace, the ranch veterinarian, arrived. He brought with him more anti-venom and re-examined Dancer, to no new diagnosis. She was calmer than before, and her heart had given up its hitch for a steadier, if not quite healthy, pace. Dr. Pallace hemmed and hawed and scratched his head, but in the end, he agreed that he could no better for the old girl than we were already accomplishing, and she was better off not being moved.

  Cheered that he would be able to watch over her himself, Pete promised not to leave her side until she could breathe easily on her own, and knowing him, I understood that he’d be by her side much longer than needed. What did surprise me was the speed with which Verica offered to stay by his side and help. I watched as the light of admiration in her eyes dimmed for my handsome lover and lit firmly on the compassionate horseman, still red-nosed and bleary-eyed as he whispered foolish nothings into Dancer’s ear.

  “Well, that was exciting and unexpected,” I babbled to Daniel, who was watching the two with a funny look on his face. “Missing the adoration already?” I teased under my breath. He flinched and scowled at me.

  “Of course not, but he’s so much older than her. Is this even allowed?” he asked under his breath. I snorted and hid my grin behind my hand.

  “The assumption is that he’ll notice. He didn’t notice when my friend Tracy returned his attention, and he’s definitely preoccupied now.” I nudged Daniel and he draped his arm around me like he’d been doing it for years.

  “Well, after all is said and done, I guess we can’t give the position to anyone else, so she’ll have time to sort him out,” he suggested with a chuckle so soft I could only feel it through his ribcage. I leaned into his embrace and watched the steady rise and fall of Dancer’s chest through the thick webbing that embraced her and kept her upright and stationary while she was being monitored.

  “I had a surprise for you, but it seems like now isn’t the best time,” he continued. “I was going to take you to my favorite place on the ranch. Maybe we should wait.”

  Startled, I looked around the room at the ranch hands and Dr. Pallace, at this point, most of them just standing around, waiting for instructions on what to do next. Mr. Hargrave met my eyes and tipped his hat, then approached us, as though he already knew what we were talking about.

  “Son, I think everything here is as good as it’s gonna get, for now,” he intoned in his gravelly bass. “I’ve had the men do a sweep of the stable, but they didn’t find anything. God, I’m sorry it happened to Pretty Dancer, but at the same time, I’m more worried that we’re going to lose Texas Tango after this.”

  “I don’t think so,” I chimed in. “After all, Dancer is most likely going to pull through just fine. I don’t think a big deal needs to be made of a snake in the state of Texas. It just happens, well, how often does it happen?” I inquired, my thoughts on Peacemaker.

  “I heard a story from my grandad that he saw one in the barn as a kid,” Daniel offered. “So at best, every fifty years or so.” He set his hat firmly on his head and pursed his lips. “You know, Dad, I have a picnic basket with my name on it sitting in the kitchen waiting since just before supper. It would be a shame to waste it.” He made the remark so casually that it sounded insincere. Without knowing why, my heart hitched and my pulse sped up.

  “Well, y’all gotta eat supper, son. You and Rachel did a hell of a thing here today. You should both take a break. Just maybe don’t take too long,” Mr. Hargrave suggested. I looked up at Daniel in askance, but he avoided my gaze, even when I poked him in the side trying to get his attention.

  “Why don’t you go take a shower and relax for a minute, and I’ll bring dinner to you?” he asked. “Whichever guesthouse you prefer is fine with me.” He smiled, but it faded quickly, replaced by a furrowed brow and a faraway look aimed toward the sick horse behind us.

  “Sure,” I answered lightly. “I’ll go back to my quarters, and if you don’t make it, I’ll throw a little something together before coming back here to relieve Pete. If he’ll let me,” I added the last without optimism. Pete was already giving the men around him orders to bring him a cot and bedding. He was definitely not going anywhere tonight.

  “Oh, I’ll be there shortly,” Daniel replied in a distant voice. “You just get comfortable. I’ll take care of the rest.” Feeling as though I’d been dismissed, I nodded my head numbly and left them, stopping only to hug Pete and tell Verica my quarters would be open for her whenever she needed to go to sleep. She turned me down gently, and Pete added a cot for her to his own quarters without hesitation.

  I made it about three steps out the door before strong arms grabbed me from behind and Pete enfolded me in a huge hug before I could even cry out in alarm.

  “Thanks, sis,” he managed to say past new tears. “I can’t repay you, but I got your back, no matter what, from now on.” He released me and I patted his arm, my heart still racing and my hands shaking from the start he’d given me.

  “You always had my back, Pete; that’s how I was here to help.” He hugged me one last, awkward time and disappeared back into the suite with Pretty Dancer.

  With a deep breath that sounded suspiciously like a sigh, even to me, I made my way to the blessed heat and pounding pressure of a long, relaxing shower, where I tried to calm my suspicions about Daniel’s strange behavior. I reassured myself that his interest in Verica was both professional and in no way threatening, even as my hands shook just enough to make me cut my leg while shaving.

  I practiced breathing and counting until my thoughts were my own again. I tried to simply enjoy the remainder of my steamy escape and stayed under the water until it cooled enough to force me to retreat, a bath sheet tucked tightly around my breasts and Skipper licking the excess water from my feet.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Daniel

  Patty had been thoughtful enough to put off actually packing the picnic basket once she’d heard the source of all the commotion. She was just coming around to check on Dancer and Pete again when I bumped into her outside the medical suite. In less than a minute, she had assessed the dietary needs of everyone who refused to leave, some for Dancer, the rest out of loyalty to Pete.

  She had me walk her back to the big house and set up meals for Pete, Verica, Dr. Pallace, and the men still hanging about wanting to be useful. My father and I set up a table outside the suite while she turned her attention to my abbreviated proposal surprise and by the time I had Verica and the men taken care of, my mother was filling a picnic basket with the petit fours and elegant, little meal she had made for Rachel and me.

  She handed me the basket, gave me instructions regarding which wine would work with the meal and the question, and was out the door to help serve the evening meal at the stable. Fortunately, she had done it many times during difficult births, as well as the (blessedly few) times illness had rampaged through our livestock. Patty assured me they had everything under control and urged me to relax and enjoy the evening. I still had second thoughts about proposing after such a crazy and scary event. But, as my mother had reminded me, “If she’s going to live on a ranch, she’s going to get used to a crazy life.”

  With that in mind, and hoping Rachel hadn’t changed hers after finding a rattlesnake in the stable only two stalls down from her beloved Peacemaker, I knocked to announce myself and walked into her quarters.

  The living area was quiet and cooling quickly as night fell, but I could hear the shower running in the bathroom off the master suite. I lit a fire in the stone fireplace and slipped Skipper a treat of hard salami before letting him into the bathroom and closing the door behind him to keep him out of the food I was laying out.

  The rug on the floor was real bearskin, but better judgment prevailed and I unfolded and laid out a picnic blanket over the rug before uncovering the small trays of cheese, fruit, tea cakes, and fresh French bread from the basket and setting them out on the large coffee table.

  Alm
ost as an afterthought, I remembered to uncork the wine and let it sit, hoping that it would have long enough before she ate. I looked at the scene I’d set in the flickering firelight and wondered if it was romantic enough to, at least temporarily, make her forget that we’d almost lost Pretty Dancer today. But for her quick thinking and practical veterinary skills, I reminded myself.

  I heard muffled laughter as Rachel chided Skipper for being gross and licking her feet, and did one last quick assessment of my handiwork. Pleased with my results, I remembered to take off my boots and hat and hurried to the bedroom to catch Skipper before he slipped out and went to town on the food.

  Rachel was fresh from the shower, damp and lovely in her towel, long hair dripping down her back as she giggled and danced in place, trying to stop Skipper. He, on the other hand, was excited to finally have his best friend back after a long evening being cooped up alone as Rachel had dealt with Dancer. He pounced and sprang away and lunged again like a puppy on a toy. She glanced at me and her eyes lit up.

  “Get Daniel, Skipper; go get him, boy!” she gasped and crouched as Skipper wagged the whole back end of his body at her. He followed her pointing finger and obedient to a fault, he leapt at me as Rachel laughed out loud at my dismay.

  “Oh, down, Skip. Down boy,” I chuckled as he wriggled on his back around my feet begging for attention. I scratched his belly and his tongue fell out sideways, lolling as he grinned. Rachel took the opportunity to lose the towel, and when I looked up, she was standing completely naked in front of her closet with her back to me.

  In an instant, my jeans were a hell of a lot snugger, and I breathed out in a long, low whistle. She flinched, but pretended she hadn’t heard me and kept sorting through her clothes without turning around. It only took a few short steps to cross the room and slide my hands over her skin as she gasped.

  “God, you are pretty,” I breathed in her ear as she shuddered under my hands. “Don’t wear too much. I don’t think we should waste a whole lot of time to get you naked again,” I leered. I grabbed the frilly, pink panties out of her hand and threw them across the room, fighting the urge to turn around as I heard Skipper bound over the bed after them.

  “He’s going to eat those,” she remarked drily as she began to pull a dress off its hanger. I didn’t answer, but slid my hands down over her breasts and her stomach and leaned into her as I slipped my hand between her legs to cup her there. She gasped, but moved her legs a tiny bit farther apart so I could gently massage the mound of her in my hand.

  “My God. You’re killing me; please just take me,” she panted as I used my fingers on her.

  “Not yet, love. I have to feed you first.” I kissed the back of her neck gently and tried to pull my hand away. With an almost angry growl, she pressed her hand against mine, holding it in place. She ground herself against my hand and tilted her head back to kiss me and I obliged, taking her breast in my other hand while I explored her mouth with my tongue.

  Dinner forgotten, I picked her up without moving my hands from either her sweet, wet heat or her breast and tossed her on the bed. She sat up and tore at my pants, sliding them down over my hips until she released me, hard and erect, and held me in her hands, humming and licking her lips.

  “Oh God, I need you,” she breathed staring up at me her mouth perilously close to my throbbing erection. “Do you want a kiss?”

  I nodded dumbly, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my eyes closed automatically as she slid her lips over me and pushed down until I felt them against my stomach, and I was deep inside her. With a gasp I pulled away, afraid that I’d lose control right then and there.

  “I want to make love to you,” I begged. I shoved her back on the bed and slid her up until her head was at her pillows. She lifted herself the last few inches so that her wet hair lay across the pillow, leaving long, wet stains that made me think of other things.

  I kissed her gently from her thighs all the way up her body, leaving nothing untouched by my lips and tongue as she writhed beneath me. I whispered my love to her at every stop, paying special attention to the dripping wetness I drank in as I stared up the long line of her body. I moved up the webbing of scars that were hers, but also the failed attempt of the world to stop her, to end the force of nature that she was. I licked and teased one nipple, then the other, while my fingers found their home inside her and pulled her closer to the edge of release.

  When I finally slid my slippery fingers into her mouth, I slipped inside her with a long, slow push that made her cry out around them. She lifted her hips and I replaced my fingers with my tongue, tasting her on her own lips while I thrust into her. Her hands snaked around my neck and she fisted her hands into my hair, so I did the same, winding her long, damp tendrils around my hand and pulling her head back so I could suck and kiss the soft skin of her throat.

  When I released her, she kissed me hard and pulled my lower lip between her teeth, sucking it hard as I felt her tighten around me, squeezing down as she came screaming into my mouth. I felt her drag me over the edge with her and came hard and fast, slamming into her and holding her there until I could breathe again.

  I collapsed to the side and dragged her onto me, where she lay draped over me, scratching Skipper’s ears as he popped his head up to check on us. Realizing we were going to be still, he jumped up onto the bed and settled himself at the foot of it after turning in circles and nosing the bedding into the semblance of a nest around him.

  “This wasn’t what I had planned,” I confessed as we lay in each other’s arms. “I brought food. It’s out in the living room.”

  She laughed, a low and feminine sound that made my body consider round two an actual possibility. “You could have just let me put clothes on,” she reminded me. I snorted.

  “Now you’re talking crazy, woman,” I chided her. She laughed again and snuggled into my side.

  “I hate to admit it, but I’m starving,” she said, pushing closer into my side.

  “Me, too, darlin’. Why don’t you just throw on a robe and see what Patty set aside for us from dinner. Rachel nodded her head and slipped into a short kimono, tying the belt around her waist to keep it from falling open. My face must have shown my annoyance with her modesty because she laughed out loud and leaned over to kiss me chastely.

  “Feed me now, and I’ll take it off for you again later,” she assured me as I slipped my jeans back up over my hips. I decided to forego the belt and shirt and followed her out to the living room after trapping Skipper behind the bedroom door.

  The fire had burned down a little and the room was toasty and inviting as we sat and I poured her a glass of the sparkling, white wine. At first, we ate in silence, attacking the food like starving people. After a few minutes, our hunger sated, we slowed down and picked at the fruits and cheese, going over the events of the day.

  I admitted that Verica’s willingness to wade in had won me over, and I was planning to cancel the other interviews. I didn’t bother sharing that a few had already canceled, not wanting to be associated with anyone who would consider working with her.

  Finally, at the moment I’d been rehearsing and waiting for, I kept finding ways to postpone it, picking at the food, massaging Rachel’s shoulders until she was nearly asleep, and clearing away the remnants of supper. Out of distractions, I looked over at Rachel, who was watching me with a pleased smile on her face.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

  “Just thinking about how nice it will be to go to bed with you tonight,” she replied, lifting her knees to her chin as she sat on the floor. The view from my seat across the blanket was enough to make my mouth go dry and I gathered myself together to finally say what I needed, even if only to get past it and back inside her, where I belonged.

  “Rachel, you have changed a lot about this place since you arrived,” I began, sitting closer to her and taking her hand in mine. She put her knees down and watched me intently. I pulled the ring out of its hi
ding place in the basket and opened the box for her to see the softly glinting stone in its setting.

  “Daniel, what?” she began to ask before I cut her off.

  “Just let me finish, before I lose my nerve.” I swallowed hard and continued. “I can’t remember my life before you, and I can’t imagine it if you leave.” I knelt on one knee and plunged ahead. “Marry me, Rachel. Be my wife and my partner, and I won’t let you down.” I held the ring in front of me as she sat there, a stunned look on her face.

  “Oh, Daniel, I wasn’t expecting this,” she breathed, and I saw the telltale shaking begin in her hands. “I can’t marry you, Daniel. It’s just not fair.” She sniffed and hid her face in her hands while I sat there holding the ring. The room spun and I blinked slowly, trying to figure out what to do next. I had promised myself I wouldn’t beg if she said “no,” but the words escaped unbidden from my lips.

  “Why?” the word echoed harshly in the rafters. “How isn’t it fair?” I tried to keep my tone level, but bile rose in my throat. Instead of pulling away, Rachel collapsed into my lap, and I flinched as a low wail came from her.

  “I can’t give you babies, Daniel,” she sobbed in a half-whisper, her tears hot on my leg. “I just can’t. You’ve seen the scars. You know I’m telling you the truth.” She sat up and wiped her nose on the sleeve of the cotton robe. “I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid it was too much to share, that it would be forward of me to assume our relationship was even going there.” She breathed deeply and controlled her tears.

  “You can’t marry me because you can’t get pregnant. You can’t get pregnant because that piece of trash put you in harms’ way and you almost died,” I said the words carefully, but the more I spoke, the angrier I knew I sounded.