Losing Control (A Babysitting a Billionaire Novel) (Entangled Brazen)

by Nina Croft

  Then she sat on the sofa, too nervous to eat, and waited.

  And waited.

  By eight, she was gnawing on her fingernails. He’d decided he didn’t love her after all and run away from home to avoid the embarrassment of facing her. Or he’d been in an accident and was lying in hospital and calling for her.

  She tried his cell phone, and it was off.

  At nine, she gave in and called Margie at home to ask if he had a late meeting.

  “He went for a drink with Dave and a couple of the lads.”

  What? “A couple of the lads?”

  “Your friend Steve, and I think Pete.”

  Kim put down the phone and eyed it as though it was a cockroach that needed crushing. Jake never went for a drink. Apart from the occasional glass of wine or cold beer, he never drank. So what was going on?

  Here she was waiting to spill her heart, teetering on a high ledge, all ready to leap, and the man who was supposed to catch her had gone for a goddamn drink? It had better be a quick one.

  It was actually 12:15 before the front door slammed. Kim gritted her teeth and sat up straight, determined to be mature about this. But when the living room door opened and Jake stumbled through, her mouth dropped open.

  He weaved his way from the doorway to the sofa and collapsed beside her.

  “Kimberly, you’re still here. I thought you’d have scurried back to your own apartment by now. Well, actually it’s my apartment as well.”

  “You’re drunk.” It was inconceivable. Jake never got drunk. According to Jake, only dickheads and assholes got drunk.

  Which one was he?

  “I was drowning my sorrows,” he mumbled. “Trying to forget my broken heart.”

  That made her feel marginally better. She opened her mouth to tell him she’d help him mend it, though this was hardly the declaration she’d been hoping for—she doubted he’d even remember in the morning. But he waved her words aside with a wildly gesticulating hand so she had to duck.

  “And I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve been too nice to you.”

  She peered at him through narrowed eyes. “You have?”

  “Yes, and your old friend Steve agrees with me. ‘Treat ’em mean to keep ’em keen.’ That’s what Steve reckons.”

  “Does he?”

  “I’m quite looking forward to treating you mean. I have a few ideas.”

  “Well, I suggest you keep them to yourself.”

  “You don’t want to know?”

  “This way the suspense will be so much more exciting.” She was pretty sure her sarcasm was wasted on him.

  “And Nadia phoned. She’s booked herself into rehab to overcome her addiction.”

  “Her Jake addiction?” Maybe Kim could go book into the room next door. They could get rid of their Jake addictions together.

  “Yeah—at least Nadia appreciates me. So I don’t need you to babysit me anymore.”

  “How disappointing. I was looking forward to taking her down.”

  “And one more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “Once I’ve treated you mean and you’ve decided you love me and want to spend the rest of your life making me happy, well, you’re going to have to prove it.”

  “And whose idea was that?”

  “Dave’s. He’s a sensible man, Dave.”

  “And how do I prove it?”

  “You’ll come up with something.”

  He rested his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes. A wave of tenderness washed over her. Like this, he appeared almost vulnerable, and she’d never seen that in Jake before. She wanted to hug him to her and hold him tight and tell him she loved him.

  But that was going to have to wait until morning. Because Jake was snoring now. Another first.

  He didn’t wake as she tugged off his shoes and then lifted his legs and maneuvered him around so he lay full-length on the sofa. She got a pillow and a duvet from the spare room, placed the pillow gently under his head, and covered him with the duvet. It wasn’t cold, but she tucked him in anyway, dropped a kiss on his forehead, then took the seat opposite and watched him sleep.

  She loved him. But now, apparently, it wasn’t enough that she just tell him. She also had to prove it. A smile tugged at her lips; she doubted he would remember much of the evening when he finally woke. All the same, she mulled the idea over in her mind.

  When she woke, she was still in the chair, and Jake was still out cold. It was morning, and she had things to do.

  Time to prove to Jake that she loved him.

  …

  Jake woke as the front door closed, the sound unnaturally loud.

  His head felt muzzy, and he was fully clothed and lying on the sofa, a duvet on top of him.

  Kim was nowhere in sight, and he was sure he was alone in the apartment. What the hell had he said to her last night? The whole latter part of the evening was a blur. He could vaguely remember getting some really bad advice from the guys. He hoped to God he hadn’t acted on any of it.

  At least she’d been here when he’d gotten home. He’d half expected her to have run back to her own place. That was partly why he’d gone out. He hadn’t been able to face returning to an empty apartment.

  He rubbed at his forehead, but he didn’t feel too bad. But he had to find Kim, see what she was thinking, whether she’d come to any conclusions, or whether she was going to keep running.

  He pushed the duvet aside and got to his feet. And saw the note on the table. Picking it up, he read the words.

  Gone to prove I love you.

  Kim

  Shit, looked like he’d taken that advice from the guys after all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kim punched the stolen security code into the panel next to Jake’s door, then crouched down and used her pick and tension wrench to undo the complicated lock. It took long minutes, and she held her breath—she needed to be inside before Margie arrived for the day’s work. Finally, the mechanism disengaged.

  As she eased open the door, she slipped on her goggles so she could see the lines of the infrared beams that crisscrossed the room. She stepped carefully over one and then ducked under the next, then over and under two more to bring her in front of the cabinet that housed the safe.

  She took a slim blade from her pocket and slid it down the door opening until it reached the wire trigger, sliced through it, then carefully turned the handle. And there was the last hurdle.

  The safe.

  She’d taken lessons in anticipation of the day she would get this close. Jake believed part of being successful in the security business was understanding the weaknesses, and he made sure all the operatives were trained. Trevor had spent time in prison for safecracking and was considered the best in the business. He’d said she was a natural, but she’d never actually gotten this far before, so never had the chance to test her skills.

  Now she knelt down and pulled the autodialing device from her bag. She attached it to the safe and switched it on, then leaned forward and rested her ear against the safe. It seemed to take an age but was probably only five minutes before she heard the machine catch and the lock click open.

  She sat back on her heels.

  She was in.

  “Congratulations.” The softly spoken word came from behind her, and she swiveled on her heels. Jake stood in the shadows at the corner of the room, and her heart rate picked up until she could hear it thudding in her ears. He took a step toward her, his face impassive.

  “Hi, Jake. How’s your head?”

  A smile flickered across his face. “It’s good. Are you sorry about that?”

  Did she want him to suffer? “No.”

  “Aren’t you going to see what’s inside?” He nodded toward the safe.

  She turned back and tugged open the safe door. It was almost empty. Just two items. She drew out the contents: a small velvet box and a semiautomatic pistol.

  With one hand, she flicked open the box, but she already knew what woul
d be inside. An engagement ring. The most beautiful ring she had ever seen in her entire life. And a piece of paper. She tucked the gun down her jeans, unfolded the note, and read the two words.

  Marry me?

  She blinked a couple of times, then rose to her feet and faced Jake.

  “You keep telling me not to say those words to you. So I thought I would write them instead. That way you can wad it up and throw it away.” He nodded to the ring in her hand. “It’s a champagne diamond. The same color as your eyes.”

  The stone was stunning, dark gold, with deeper orange tones. She glanced from it to the gun. “So you want me to choose?”

  He shook his head. “No. You can have both. Or either. You want the gun, and I’ll not hold you back—it’s your life, your decision. But I hope you’ll take the ring as well.”

  “What happened to treating me mean?” she asked.

  A small smile tugged at his lips. “I was hoping I hadn’t actually brought that up.”

  “You did.”

  She stared out the window while she considered her next move. Her plan was to get into the safe and then tell Jake she didn’t want the promotion, that she wanted his love far more. That was to be her proof. Now he was telling her she could have everything.

  But she didn’t want everything. She wanted Jake.

  Slowly, she pulled out the pistol and aimed it at his heart.

  “I’m going to have your baby. What are you going to do about it?”

  Shock flared across his face, followed by…joy and maybe the briefest flash of fear. He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No. I’m deliriously happy. It will be the most beautiful baby in the whole world.”

  A smile curved his lips, glinted in his blue eyes. “I’m glad.”

  She remembered her father’s advice and took a deep breath. “But we both need you, Jake. You’re going to have to give up all those reckless hobbies and look after us. No jumping out of airplanes with your dad.”

  “I think living with you will be exciting enough.”

  “And you need to make an honest woman out of me.” She waved the gun a little to emphasize her words. “Or I might shoot you.”

  His smile widened. “It’s not loaded.”

  “Does it need to be?”

  “No.”

  She placed the gun on the desk. “I don’t want it.”

  “I’m glad. And you know you can always be my bodyguard if life gets too boring. It’s a 24-7 job and guaranteed for life.”

  “That one I will accept. Well, until the baby comes, then I’ll be busy.” She took the few steps toward him and handed him the box. “Put it on for me.”

  He took it from her and slipped the ring from inside, then lifted her left hand. “You ready?”

  She nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”

  The ring slid on her finger, a perfect fit.

  She heard a noise behind her, but there was one more thing she needed to do, and she refused to be distracted. Screwing her eyes up tight, she willed the words to her throat.

  “What are you doing?” Jake asked.

  She blinked. “I’m getting ready to jump, of course.”

  “I’ll catch you.”

  “I know.” She could do this. “I love you, Jake. And I want to marry you and have your babies and tie you up to four-posters, and—”

  “You might want to stop there,” Jake murmured.

  “Nah, let her keep going, boss. It was getting interesting.”

  She turned slowly to see a whole crowd of grinning coworkers loitering in the open doorway.

  “Congratulations,” Dave said. “I knew you’d get there in the end.”

  “Which is a hell of a lot more than I did,” Jake muttered. Then he held out his arms, and Kim stepped into them.

  A cheer sounded from the doorway.

  “Just a moment,” Jake said. He released her, stalked across the room, hustled them out, and slammed the door in their faces. “Now, where were we?”

  “I believe we were at the point you were about to tell me that you’d always do what I say, that I’d wear the trousers in our marriage, that you’ll never tell me what to do, that you’ll—”

  He stopped her words with a brief, hard kiss, then dropped to his knees and pressed his lips to her stomach. Leaning back, he stared up into her face.

  “Marry me,” he ordered.

  What could she say? He was Jake. “Yes, boss.”

  Acknowledgments

  To my fabulous editor at Entangled, Liz Pelletier, for encouraging me to be brazen and write this book. To Liz, and her assistant Robin, for all their edits and their constant tweaking to make the book the best it could be. To the wonderful women at Passionate Critters for reading my stories and letting me know what they really think. And finally, to Rob, who puts up with me, and encourages me, and does a great job of hiding it when he’s totally fed up with me being in my imaginary worlds.

  About the Author

  Nina Croft grew up in the north of England. After training as an accountant, she spent four years working as a volunteer in Zambia, which left her with a love of the sun and a dislike of 9-5 work. She then spent a number of years mixing travel (whenever possible) with work (whenever necessary) but has now settled down to a life of writing and picking almonds on a remote farm in the mountains of southern Spain.

  Nina writes all types of romance, often mixed with elements of the paranormal and science fiction.

  www.ninacroft.com

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