The Billionaire's Super Nanny (A BWWM Romance)
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He growled and kissed me roughly, squeezing my ass cheeks and pulling me closer against him. He broke away, hands still firmly glued to my backside.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
I laid there, the afterglow surrounding me, his strong arms holding me close. I closed my eyes, leaning against his chest and snuggling against him. I loved that he still held me possessively, not caring that he was squeezing my ass a little hard. His touch felt delicious and was exactly what I’d needed.
I drifted off to sleep in his arms. It was a crazy world out there, but here, in my home and in the arms of a handsome billionaire, all was right with my world.
***
The light of morning streamed into my room, warming my face and waking me from a comforting dream. I sat up, stretching slowly and regarding the sleeping man in my bed. He was sound asleep, not a drop of tension on his face as he dozed peacefully beside me.
He was lying on top of the covers that we hadn’t bothered to pull back to sleep in. Buck naked and taking up half the bed. What had I done?
Last night had been amazing, but this couldn’t happen again. I’d let my fear and arousal override my good sense, and I’d gotten caught up in the moment. In the harsh light of morning, regret ate away at me. Taylor was my employer, not a love interest. What had I been thinking?
I hadn’t been thinking, and I knew that was the truth. At least, I hadn’t been thinking with my head. And now I had a gorgeous, naked man in my bed that I needed to get out of my home so I could go on with my life and my carefully laid out plans.
Those plans didn’t include a life with a billionaire. Taylor was too alpha for the independent woman in me. I didn’t need a doormat, but I didn’t want a man who could wield control over me the way Taylor could.
Except I couldn’t kick him out and walk away. I had a job to do, and at least four more weeks of work. This wasn’t a typical one-night stand.
I took a deep breath, trying to quell that panic that was rising in me. I’d really done it this time.
I walked to the bathroom as quietly as I could, trying not to wake him. Closing the bathroom door behind me, I turned on the shower and hoped the jolt of cold water would clear my mind.
The frigid water was jarring, but it didn’t help alleviate my guilt. I didn’t feel bad about sleeping with Taylor, but I did feel bad about my lack of remorse. Taylor was a beast in bed, and I could never let that happen again. He was my employer, nothing more. Until I wasn’t working for him, I needed to keep my head on straight and my clothes on.
Of course, that was easier said than done.
I shut the water off, toweling off quickly and pulling on my clothes. If I was naked when Taylor woke up I was screwed. Literally. I had to get myself together and ready before he did.
He was still sound asleep when I walked by, and I was grateful for that. I ignored the clothes strewn about the room and headed for the kitchen, pulling bacon and eggs out of the fridge and getting to work on breakfast. Today was going to be a long and possibly awkward day. I was going to make sure we were both well-fed before it started.
I finished cooking breakfast just as Taylor walked into the room. He was bare-chested and barefoot, walking through my apartment as comfortable as if he owned the place.
He kissed me on the cheek, giving me a squeeze and a sleepy smile that melted my heart.
“Good morning, Gorgeous.”
“Morning.”
I tried to sound nonchalant, but it was hard. I’d seen this man naked, and a big part of me wanted to see him naked again. It was going to be hard to push that out of my mind and go on like nothing had changed. But I had to. I had goals and dreams, and those dreams didn’t include a man.
“This smells good, but not as good as you.”
He was smiling, completely at ease while he loaded his plate up with food and poured himself some juice.
I didn’t know what to say, but I wasn’t going to say it here, whatever it was. If I told him now that I regretted last night, he would force me to talk about it here. Alone in my home, I would have no choice but to go over everything, making it hard to explain to him why I couldn’t be in a relationship right now without admitting that I was falling for him. I didn’t need any drama in my life right now, and Taylor Stephens was drama with capital D.
“What’s on your mind?”
I was startled by his question, but I shouldn’t have been. Taylor was so perceptive it was almost uncanny.
“I have to go back into work today. I need to record a few more shows, maybe do a live segment so people don’t lose interest. You should probably head back and I’ll see you tonight?”
“I could do that. Or I could stay here and get a chance to see you in action.”
“What? No. I can’t work like that.”
“You won’t even know I’m there.”
Yeah, right.
“Don’t you need to watch the kids?”
“No, Sonja is taking care of them. I trust her with my life. She’s the one who raised me, after all.”
I was a little taken aback by that statement, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. Taylor and Sonja had a special bond, and it wasn’t out of the ordinary for house staff to raise rich kids in the absence of overly busy parents. That was actually the norm, and I knew it was a big part of why Taylor was working so hard to be a good, hands-on dad. Now I knew why it was so very important to him.
“Fine. You can come, but if you get in my way, I’ll have you removed.”
“I might misbehave just to see you try.”
His grin was mischievous, but I knew he wouldn’t cause a scene. The Taylor who had been in my bed was wild and free-spirited. But Taylor Stephens—the one the public saw—was a polished professional. I had no doubt he’d be able to conduct himself professionally while I worked.
So much for getting rid of him that way.
Chapter 13
Taylor
The studio was much quieter than I expected. I guess I learned everything I know about radio shows from the television, so I was expecting frazzled assistance rushing to get everyone their coffee and breakfast. A rough-around-the-edges producer barking orders at everyone.
It was nothing like that. Everyone was calm and laid-back. Zeya walked into the studio and sat down, pulling her cue cards out and going through a quick warm-up. Today, she was recording one last prerecorded show before she went live with callers and questions.
Today’s prerecorded show was about sibling rivalry and how to address it in healthy ways. I sat in the producer’s booth with Ted, watching her through the glass window that separated us from the sound booth. She was her normal, quirky self, but I noticed a change in her. Her eyes were brighter and she seemed to be in a particularly good mood, considering that her life had been threatened just the day before. I hoped I had something to do with that, and gave myself a mental pat on the back for the glow she had that seemed to come from within.
Knowing that you are beautiful and loved often had that effect on a woman, and I was proud of the part I’d played in all that.
It’s funny when you’re in love how everything around you just fades away. Ted talked from time to time, but I didn’t really hear him. I was focused on Zeya. Her gorgeous face, beautiful smile, and the quirky way she dressed from head to toe in the same color that just summed up everything about who she was.
Today, she was in midnight blue, sexy and sultry from her tan leather sandals to the midnight blue head wrap that held her curly locks out of her face. She was stunning, and she was all mine.
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Ted asked.
“She’s even better in action. A lot of these radio celebrities are all talk. Zeya is amazing with my kids. I’ve never seen them so happy and so well-behaved.”
“Well, you can’t keep her. She’s under contract for the next five years.”
I sensed a bit of posturing, and I wondered if I should let it go. But I’m not that man, and Zeya
was mine. Whether she knew it yet or not.
“I get it. You discovered her, right?”
“With the help of her agent, but yes, I gave her that first, big shot.”
“And you’re not going to let her walk away that easily.”
“Exactly. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
I shrugged but didn’t answer. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, enjoying how he started to shift uncomfortably in his chair. Good. He should be worried. A radio personality like Zeya was a gift. If he didn’t treat her right, someone else would snatch her up in a heartbeat.
“We are on the same page, right?” he asked.
I love how silence drives people to keep talking. I hadn’t said a word, but he’d filled in his own blanks. He was getting more and more nervous, and I had yet to say a thing.
“You can’t have her. I won’t stand for it. I’ll enforce the early termination charge to keep her.”
“You think that will work? Making her pay, what, half of her five-year salary to leave?”
“Of course it will. She doesn’t have five hundred thousand dollars just lying around.”
Was this guy serious? I knew he was just posturing to prove to me that he was in control of the situation, but had Zeya heard him talk like this? I doubted it, because I couldn’t imagine her putting up with such bullshit.
I pulled out my wallet, fishing out the single, folded check I kept for the odd time that my bank card wouldn’t work. Now seemed like as good a time as any.
“Do you have a pen?” I asked.
“Of course.”
He was confused, but he handed over the pen anyway. I scribbled onto the check and handed it over to him.
“What’s this?”
“It’s four hundred thousand dollars. Now it’s Zeya’s choice. Hopefully you have more to offer her than a contract meant to trap her.”
“I can’t take this from you.”
“Sure you can. You can keep it either way. That way, we don’t have to have this conversation again.”
I patted him on the back, the gesture deceptively friendly.
“We can compare out assets all day, Ted. But at the end of the day, only one of us is Taylor Stephens, and I can play this game all day.”
Ted turned red, shoving the check angrily in his pocket. He was beat and he knew it. He didn’t own Zeya. No one owns a woman, let alone a woman like Zeya, and it was about time that Ted got the memo.
“I doubt she’d be happy to know you stuck your nose where it didn’t belong,” he challenged.
“I would worry about myself if I were you. She might be upset that I wrote that check, but not once she finds out why. So I think it would be prudent if we keep this conversation between ourselves, for Zeya’s sake. She thinks highly of you. I’m sure you don’t want her to know that you have such an ugly side.”
Zeya finished recording the prerecorded session, shutting off the equipment on her end and signaling to Ted that she was through. Ted cut off the equipment and plastered a smile on his face as she walked by on her way to the breakroom.
I wanted to follow her, but I gave her some space. We’d been joined at the hip since I showed up unannounced at her door the night before, and I could tell it was a little much for her. If she wanted to chat, she knew where to find me.
As if on cue, she slid into the producer’s booth with a steaming cup of tea that smelled faintly of honey and lemon. She smiled across the cup at me, her eyes crinkling in the corners. She caught Ted’s face and her expression changed.
“What’s going on here, guys?”
“Nothing,” Ted said, just a little too quickly.
“Have you guys been talking about me?” she said, one hand on her hip, leveling her best nanny stare at us.
“You caught us,” I said. “Old Ted here was bragging about how amazing you’ve been and what an asset you are to the station. I think I even heard a hint of a raise coming your way.”
You could’ve heard a pin drop in that tiny room as Ted paled. But he didn’t dare go against what I said. Zeya beamed at him. She was clearly excited.
“Oh Ted, that’s wonderful. I really appreciate it.”
Ted tried to open his mouth to speak, but only a strangled sound came out. He swallowed hard and tried again while I tried to hide my laughter.
“That’s right. It won’t be much, but your absence has made it clear that you’re a major draw for the station, and I want to keep you around.”
“Can you believe this guy? Such a great producer,” I said, clapping Ted on the back just short of roughly and smiling broadly. “He even wanted to make sure that your raise got into your paycheck at the end of this week, so he pushed it through.”
Ted choked and sputtered, and I clapped him on the back a little harder.
“Oh my gosh, Ted, are you all right?” Zeya asked.
“Fine,” he choked out. “My drink went down the wrong way.”
Ted took a couple of deep breaths, his breathing and color finally returning to normal.
“I guess I should start the live show,” Zeya said. “It’s only a few minutes early.”
“Good idea,” I said, smiling warmly at her. “I’m really enjoying watching you. You’re amazing.”
Zeya blushed and ducked her head so slightly that I almost missed it. Had I made her feel a little embarrassed? Whatever it was, it looked good on her, and I wanted to see it more.
She strode into the studio, put on her headphones and flipped the On Air switch.
“Good morning, this is Zeya Sparks for ninety-nine five The Fox. Today we’re going to be covering picky eaters and ways to help our children work through it.”
She rattled off the station’s number, inviting callers with picky eater questions to call in before going to commercial break. I watched the lines for a minute, shocked that nothing had come in yet. The final commercial was starting when the line finally lit up. Zeya’s intern answered on the first ring, letting the caller know they were on the air after a thirty-second hold and to turn their radio off. The intern didn’t wait for an answer, putting the caller on hold immediately after going through her spiel and giving Zeya a thumbs up from her tiny office on the other side of the studio.
Zeya waited until the commercial finished, pulling the call up after a brief segue back into the show.
“Hi, Caller. You’re in the air with Zeya Sparks.”
“You’re an imposter.”
The voice on the line was raspy, and barely audible. I couldn’t make out what was said and wondered if my ears had deceived me. Zeya looked equally perplexed, checking her headphones before introducing the caller again.
“You heard me, you homewrecker. You’re not an expert. You don’t even have a child of your own. You get on here with all your advice, and it’s crap. You’re a childless wannabe who can’t keep a man and wants everyone else in the world to feel as badly as you did when your husband left you to start a family with a better woman.”
I was out of my chair in an instant, but Ted held up his hand. Zeya’s face was stricken, and the damage had already been done.
“How do you know about my ex-husband?” Zeya spat out.
“I know so much about you. You destroy families, and it’s all for your ratings. You don’t care about anything but yourself. You’ve ruined everything, and I’m going to make you pay. You’re going to die, bitch. Do you hear me? You’re going to—”
Ted cut the audio feed, silencing the caller and automatically rolling into prerecorded filler. I pushed past Ted, rushing through the door and to Zeya. She was holding the headphones in her hands, staring at them blankly.
I knelt in front of her, pulling the headphones out of her hands and setting them on the desk.
“Zeya, talk to me. Are you all right?”
“What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything, Zeya. Some people are just crazy. You can’t help what they do and you’re not responsible.”
“But I had to ha
ve done something to warrant that kind of anger. Right?”
Zeya looked at me, eyes pleading for answers I just didn’t have.
“He’s an angry person, Zeya. It was his choice to call and threaten your life.”
“How can you tell it was a man? The voice was masked by one of those machines like they use on the news.”
“It’s a man, Zeya. It doesn’t matter. Whoever did that is crazy, and it has nothing to do with you.”
She nodded slowly, but I could tell she was still shocked. First the rat and now this. I didn’t know how much more she could take of this craziness before she cracked.
“Look at me, Zeya. It’s someone that’s in love with you. Well, not you, but the idea of you. This happens to celebrities all the time.”
“I’m not that big of a celebrity.”
“But you are. At least around here you are. You need a bodyguard.”
“I don’t want to be followed all the time, Taylor. I can’t live like that.”
“Zeya, listen to him. You can’t live your life looking over your shoulder either.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears came anyway. She couldn’t fight them. She was terrified, but she didn’t want to admit it.
“Zeya, please. Let me take care of you. I just want to keep you safe.”
I waited, trying not to push. This was ridiculous, and she wouldn’t be safe without someone watching round the clock. If it was obvious to me, why couldn’t she—
“Fine. I’ll do it. But I don’t want it to run my life. I’m still going to work, and I’m still going to do the things I normally do.”
“That’s fine, but what about the show? You can’t do live calls if you don’t know if he’ll call again.”
“That’s not true,” Ted said. “I can have the intern actually screen the calls. We don’t do it because it’s never been an issue, but we can start.”
“That will work for a while, but then what? Eventually he’ll figure it out,” I pointed out.
“Or he’ll lose interest. It’s not uncommon for them to move onto another celebrity, either.”
I considered that a moment. Ted was right on that front. Stalkers typically lost interest without contact. But if he was getting anything from Zeya’s shows, he might still feel connected.