The Nanny (A Billionaire Romance)

by Naomi Niles

  "I'm sorry, Mama, but I can't stay," I said. I'd already pressed send on my text to Scott asking him to come pick me up.

  "What? You brought your suitcase. You said you were staying for several days." Mama blinked back her tears of disappointment.

  "I know, I'm sorry. It turns out I have to go back to the mansion right away, but don't worry. I don't think this job is going to last too much longer and then I'll be back home to stay."

  "I hope so," she sighed, giving me a hug.

  "I hope so, too." I hugged her back, holding her for an extra-long time.

  When Scott arrived to pick me up, I almost changed my mind. I dreaded going back to the place I just escaped, but I knew I could never forgive myself if anything happened to Halle. I had a responsibility to her to protect her and a moral obligation to see that justice was done for Rose.

  "You're back." Tate greeted me with a smile of surprise. His sexy and charming grin told me this was going to be a lot harder than I thought. He hugged me to welcome me home, and I forced myself not to cringe.

  "Your muscles are tense," he noticed, and I knew I had failed.

  "It was difficult seeing my mother," I lied. "It's late, and I'm really tired. I think I'll go to bed."

  I tried to push past him, but he held me tightly in his arms, tenderly stroking my arms. "Let's go up to my room, and I'll help you relax. I can make you feel better all over."

  He buried his face in my neck, kissing me there as his hands slid up and down my body, groping me. Despite myself, I felt tingles of arousal rushing through me, and I had to shove him away before I got caught up in the passion.

  "I'd rather just go up to my room."

  His expression went blank with shock, then quickly turned into an angry scowl. "You're refusing to have sex with me?"

  I quickly realized that I'd better smooth things over to avoid raising suspicion.

  "I want to, it's just have a terrible headache." I put my hand to the back of my head and winced. "The doctor said it might be a lingering side effect of the concussion. I've been getting them a lot."

  "You should have said something. I can call the doctor." He reached for his cell phone, but I stopped him.

  "That won't be necessary. I just need a good night's rest."

  "Let me tuck you in then. I'll take care of you." He moved in to kiss me, and I dodged him with an artful turn that I hoped looked casual.

  "Thanks, I can do it myself. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Tate." I turned away and walked up the stairs.

  "Goodnight. Feel better fast," he called after me in a voice that was thick with lust. I could feel his eyes boring into my back, but I refused to turn around. He wouldn't intimidate me into having sex with him; I knew if I succumbed to my desires, it would be the last thing I ever did.

  Chapter Thirty-Four: Tate

  I watched Rachelle walk up the stairs to her bedroom with an ache in my groin and another in my heart.

  I'd been so happy when Scott told me he'd gotten a text to come pick her up. I'd sprinkled rose petals on my bedroom floor leading from the bed to the bookcase hiding my secret playroom. I made extravagant plans of the things I'd do to her in there, each more delightfully naughty than the last.

  Then, when she arrived through the front door, there was something different about her. She was reserved, fearful, and sad. It was like the Rachelle I knew was gone, and this woman in her place was just an empty shell.

  The situation with her mother must have been worse than I thought, but then why would she return home so quickly? Perhaps they'd had a fight? Or she couldn't bear seeing her mother so ill. It was no wonder she had a headache; the strain she was under must have been tremendous.

  It was too bad she refused to let me take her to my room. I could have easily taken all her pain away and made her feel good all over. In fact, I was sorely disappointed that I wasn't being allowed to.

  Being turned down by women was something that rarely happened to me, and it was a good thing it didn't because I hated it. There was nothing more frustrating than being horny with a sexy, vivacious woman just down the hall and having to go to bed alone and unsatisfied.

  I was tempted to remind Rachelle of her contract with me and let her know that she had no right to refuse me or she'd lose her job, but I didn't want to do that. I liked her a lot. She was terrific with Halle – and pretty terrific with me, too. She was easy to talk to, fun in bed, and sexy as hell. I'd never felt such pleasure fucking a woman, and when I orgasmed inside her tight pussy, it was like I'd exploded with pleasure. She was amazing in every way, and I'd be a fool to drive her away simply because she had a headache.

  It was a really nasty bump on the head she'd gotten that night, and I couldn't help but feel responsible for it. She wouldn't have gotten injured if she hadn't been working in my house. I just didn't realize the pain from a concussion would last this long after the injury, if she were telling me the truth about what was bothering her.

  I went to my office and tried to work, but I couldn't concentrate. My mind kept wandering to thoughts of Rachelle, and if she were lying to me about her headache just to avoid being with me.

  It was a dangerous thought to have. If she didn't want to fuck me, fine. It would bruise my ego, but I'd deal with it. I could tolerate a lot of things, but lying wasn't one of them. If Rachelle Clare wasn't someone I could trust, then it didn't matter if she was the best fuck on the planet – she'd have to go. I'd suffered enough from dishonest backstabbers who would lie to my face. I wasn't about to put up with one more for even a second. If the woman I entrusted to care for my child and allowed to sleep in my bed turned out to be a liar, I would go crazy with rage.

  It was useless trying to get any work done, so I turned off my computer and marched down the hall towards my bedroom. I passed by the nursery and peaked inside. Halle was sound asleep with her beloved stuffed giraffe snuggled against her cheek.

  I paused at the door to Rachelle's bedroom and was tempted to press my ear to the wood to listen for sounds of her sleeping. I realized how ridiculous I was being and refused to give in to paranoia. If Rachelle said she had a headache, then she had a headache. I just hoped she felt better soon because I had an aching head of my own that missed her desperately.

  Inside my room, I closed the door and began picking up the rose petals I'd scattered in a trail and dumped them the trash. What a waste of romantic ambiance, I thought. I'd been planning to peel away her clothes and bind her to the posts of my bed with scarves. Then I was going to open my secret sex room and select a variety of toys from my wall. I'd secure a blindfold over her eyes, and we'd play an erotic guessing game, with me using the toys upon her prone, naked body and her figuring out what each one was from the pleasure it gave her. Now, thanks to her headache, I'd be spending the night alone.

  Suddenly, an alarm on my cell phone sounded. It was linked to the security system Brighton had set up, and I looked to see that someone was trying to break into a locked window on the ground floor.

  "Motherfucker," I hissed under my breath. It was Missy Stevens. The stupid bitch looked both stoned and drunk as she stumbled around the hedges, trying to find an open window. I typed in a code to turn off the alarm and notified Brighton that everything was okay. Then I went downstairs to let her in.

  "What the hell are you doing? It's the middle of the night. You're going to wake the whole house," I growled at her in hushed tones.

  "My key don't work," she slurred.

  "I had the locks changed," I explained. She went crazy, yelling and flailing her arms.

  "You changed the locks on me? You locked me out of my house where my daughter lives. You're keeping me away from my daughter. That's kidnapping. You're a kidnapping son-of-a-bitch!"

  She was screaming and shouting so loud, I was terrified she'd wake up Halle. She was finally starting to forget her mother and all the abuses of her neglect. If Halle saw her again, especially in this state, surely it would all come back to her. I couldn't let my daught
er be traumatized in that fashion.

  Quickly, I grabbed Missy by the shoulders and pulled her into the house, clamping one hand over her mouth to silence her. Talking quickly while she struggled, I tried to explain. "I wasn't trying to keep you out, and I wasn't kidnapping Halle. Just relax for a moment and let me explain. I sent you several texts telling you I had to change the locks for security reasons and to come by so I could give you a new key."

  Missy quit struggling and stared at me with surprised eyes. Cautiously, I removed my hand from her mouth but kept my grip on her shoulder. She blinked at me and said, "That was you?"

  "Of course, it was me. Who did you think it was?"

  "I thought it was my ex-boyfriend wanting me to pick up a kilo for him. You know, a key. I already told him I wouldn't do no drug trafficking. I got a daughter to take care of."

  "That's right, you do." I looked her up and down appraisingly. Missy was a mess. She was just twenty-six, but with those dark circles under her chocolate brown eyes and the yellow tint of her wrinkled, saggy skin, she looked twice as old. She'd dyed her dark brown hair with blue streaks and cut it in long chunky layers that fell to her bony shoulders. Her black tank-top was stained, and her skintight daisy-duke shorts were filthy, too.

  Grimacing, I asked her, "When was the last time you ate or showered or slept in a decent bed?"

  "Is that an invitation, baby?" She rubbed her tits up against me and smiled seductively.

  "No. I'm worried about you. You're skin and bones, and you stink like hell."

  "Fuck you. I don't need to stand here and take these insults." She swung at me with a wide arcing fist that I dodged easily. The action put her off balance, and she collapsed forward. Luckily, I caught her before she could smack her head against the ground and hoisted her up into my arms.

  "Okay, that's it. You need a hot shower, a hot meal, and some good rest. Come on; I'm taking you upstairs."

  "I don't need your help. I'm fine on my own," she argued, but she had no energy for the fight and slumped like a sack of flour over my shoulder.

  By the time I got her up to my room, Missy was unconsciousness, and I feared she was overdosing on whatever the hell she had taken. Fuck. The last thing I needed was to tell Detective Miller I had another dead woman in my house. Not to mention, I didn't want to have to tell Halle her mother had died of a drug overdose while she'd been sleeping. The sweet child would never go to bed again.

  "Come on. You've got to get this shit out your stomach." I plopped Missy down on my bathroom floor, held her head over the toilet, and performed the highly unpleasant task of sticking my fingers down her throat. For once, I was glad she never ate. It didn't take long to purge her stomach of its contents.

  "Okay, now we've got to clean you up. Into the shower. Come on; you can do it." I shoved Missy into the shower stall and turned on the spray. She fought it at first, but then she resigned herself to her fate and allowed me to wash her.

  Slowly, she morphed back into the woman I used to know as the grime rinsed off her skin and down the drain. This was the beautiful young dancer I'd hired to work at my friend’s bachelor party. The lively, vivacious girl I'd flirted and danced with and eventually fucked on the floor.

  Every time I looked into Halle’s sweet face, I couldn't help but see remnants of her mother. As much as I hated Missy for the parts of her that were ugly – her greed, neglectfulness, and addiction to drugs – there was a part of her that I would always care for. After all, she would always be Halle's mother, and that was why I would do everything in my power to be the woman Halle deserved for her to be.

  "Feeling better?" I asked as I wrapped her in a towel and fluffed the excess water from her blue-black hair.

  "Much." She smiled at me gratefully. "Thanks for doing this for me. You really are a good guy."

  "I try," I said humbly. "Now let's get you into bed."

  "All right, baby." I meant for Missy to go downstairs to the guest bedroom I kept for her, but she completely misunderstood my intentions. There was no way I meant that I wanted to have sex with her. Before I could explain, Missy grabbed me by the ass and pulled me to her, pressing her tits against my chest and kissing my neck.

  "Hold on," I objected as Missy reached down with her hands and started stroking my dick through my slacks. Unfortunately, I responded. It was purely biological. I had no sexual desire for Missy whatsoever, but Rachelle had refused me earlier, so I was easily aroused.

  Missy took it as permission and started unzipping my slacks. "Yeah, baby. Let's fuck like we did at that party."

  "I was drugged at that party," I objected, grabbing her by shoulders.

  "I know where we can get some more. We can get high together and fuck."

  I was disgusted by the thought. I pushed her away from me. She was so light from not eating, I used a bit more force than I meant to. She lost her balance and fell back onto the bed.

  "Yeah, I know you like it rough. Fuck me, you animal." She laughed an ugly sound as she sprawled out naked on top of my bed.

  "No, Missy," I stated firmly. "I've told you before, and I'll say it again as many times as I have to: I'm not going to have sex with you."

  "Why not? Because I'm not one of your nanny whores?" Missy snapped angrily. "You'll regret turning me down all these years. I already made sure of it."

  "Get a good night's sleep, and in the morning, I'll make sure Stuart makes you a healthy breakfast."

  "Fuck that shit. I don't need this bullshit." She was stomping around the room, agitated. She was looking for her clothes or money she could steal. I needed to calm her down before she started yelling and woke Halle. I couldn't let her see her mother like this, not when she was finally starting to forget her.

  I grabbed Missy gently and spoke in a soft voice. "Let me take care of you. You've suffered so much; you deserve it."

  "Damn right," she barked. "You should see the shit I've been through. And here you sit in the lap of fucking luxury, with my damn kid, while I'm sleeping in a fucking warehouse."

  "That's not right. Sleep here tonight. Let me give you a warm bed and a hot meal. Let me help you get well."

  "No rehab bullshit. Those fucking places just try to kill you." Missy immediately stiffened in my arms, and I could feel her pulse quicken.

  "If you don't want that, I won't force you, but the offer stands whenever you want to go."

  "Well, fuck that shit," she pouted, but she was calming down. She fidgeted with her fingers and then said, "I could use something to eat."

  "We should let your stomach settle first. It's not wise to eat after vomiting the way you did. Get some sleep, and you can have anything you want to eat in the morning."

  "Can I sleep here, in your bed?" she asked with a sly grin.

  The bitch knew I never let anyone sleep in my bed. It was a ploy to manipulate me. If I told her she had to sleep in the guest bedroom, she'd use it as an excuse to get mad at me for rejecting her and storm out of the house. If I let her stay in my bed, she'd feel like she'd gotten one over on me. The ding to my pride was a small price to pay to keep her from dying on the streets of some overdose.

  "Fine. Sleep in my bed," I said.

  Missy smirked gleefully. She pulled back the covers and bounded into the bed with a happy leap. She gave me her best sexy smile and patted the mattress beside her.

  "Aren't you going to join me?" she purred salaciously.

  "Thanks, but you can have the bed. I'll sleep on the couch," I said with a curt nod.

  "What? Get your ass in this bed right now. What's the matter? Aren't I as good a fuck as your little nanny whore?"

  "Good night, Missy." I backed out of the room and closed the door firmly.

  I could hear her ranting to herself on the other side, mumbling about what an asshole I was. I waited until the sound of her voice stayed silent for a while, then cracked open the door. She was passed out on the bed, snoring softly with a line of drool oozing from her slack jaw.

  "Sweet dreams, Missy," I whis
pered and closed the door. I walked down to the living room and lay down on the couch. It had been a long and difficult day. The woman I desired had refused me, and the woman who wanted me, I refused. For now, they both slept, while I lay wide awake wondering how it all went so wrong.

  Chapter Thirty-Five: Rachelle

  "Hello, what brings you lovely ladies to my kitchen today?" Stuart greeted Halle and me with a smile.

  "Science!" Halle cried out happily.

  "Excuse me?" He frowned.

  "Rachelle is teaching me about science. She says baking makes a kinky erection."

  "Chemical reaction," I corrected with a blush, while Stuart stifled a laugh.

  "I see, and how does it do that?" he asked with a smile.

  Halle's little brow furrowed with concentration as she tried to explain. "Baking powder makes tiny bubbles, so it makes the cake fluffy. If you make a cake without it, it will be flat."

  "That's right." I beamed at my young student with pride. Turning to Stuart, I said, "We were hoping you might let us use your kitchen to perform a little experiment. I was going to have Halle help me make cake batter. We'll split it in half into two separate bowls, giving one baking powder and leaving the other without."

  "No. Forget it. Absolutely out of the question." He waved his arms, shooing us out.

  "We'll clean up so there won't be any mess. You won't even know we were here."

  "I always know when someone's been in my kitchen. As long as I'm here, the only one who bakes in my kitchen is me."

  Halle tugged at Stuart's apron, and the tall man bent down to look at her. Staring up into his eyes with her big hazel green ones, she asked, "So, can you make the cake with me?"

  "What?" He blinked. Now it was my turn to stifle a laugh.

  "Please?" she pleaded. "I really want to do this science experience."

  "Experiment," he corrected. He looked thoughtful for a moment, while Halle kept batting her eyes at him. Finally, he relented. "Okay, fine. I will help you bake the cake. We'll make two – one with baking powder and one without so you can see the difference."