Naughty Nanny Series- Accidentally in Love

by Blue, RaeLynn

  Kanon kept her sane and sober. Kanon. She groaned and sipped some more wine.

  Did she really want to get involved with a man who had a child?

  She didn’t get to ponder it. Her cell phone rang, vibrating against the glass patio

  table.

  Scooping it up, she glanced at the number, the ringtone was the one she used for

  unknown callers.

  Could it be her insurance company? But at this time of night.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Charlotte Neal?” the polished voice on the other end asked.

  Damn telemarketers.

  “I’m not interested.”

  “Oh, but you may be. Do you know a Mr. Isamu?” she asked. Yeah, it was a

  female for sure to be this darn pushy.

  “No,” Charlotte said before her brain could process what she lied about.

  “No? It says here that he’s your current employer,” the female words slithered

  through the phone. “Has that changed?”

  “Yeah, as of today,” Charlotte said, her grip so tight, the water condensation on

  the glass seeped between her fingers. Again her mouth shot off answers without

  clearance from her mind. “Who the hell is this?”

  “I am the assistant to the district attorney Martin Bell,” the woman said.

  “Tell me what this is in reference to.” “I am not at liberty to discuss an on-going case, Miss Neal; however, do not be

  surprised if you are subpoenaed in the next six months. Is your current address…”

  “Subpoenaed? For what?” Charlotte barked, sitting upright in her chair, her feet

  flat on the ground. The car accident, the hit and run? They’d never found the driver of

  the Mercedes, but why ask her about Ichigo? He was at the scene, but he didn’t witness

  it. “I think you owe me some answers. You call my home this late at night and question

  me? Do I need to file a complaint?”

  “Complaint?”

  “Hell yeah. There is a Freedom of Information Act, bitch, so start singing,”

  Charlotte snapped, her anger bowled over any ideas of self preservation. This woman

  threatened Ichigo and appeared to be trying to get her hooked up in some mess.

  “Feisty aren’t you,” the woman remarked. “It seems Mr. Isamu is being sued for

  discrimination.”

  “What?”

  “You may be subpoenaed to testify.”

  She shook her head, trying to shake out the dumb shit she’d just heard. Was this

  woman serious? No, this was some practical joke. But no one knew about her job with

  Ichigo.

  “Any other questions will have to wait until your subpoena arrives,” the woman

  clucked cheerfully and hung up.

  Charlotte stared at her cell phone like it had grown legs.

  “Ichigo!” She got up from her seat and ran into her house. The thick, brown envelope from

  this morning came tumbling back through her mind. He had no idea what he’d been

  given. Discrimination. How could that be possible? Did he just sleep with her to prove

  that he wasn’t a racist?

  She snatched on her jeans, her mind burning with rage. How dare he use her to

  cover his ass! No damn wonder he wanted her to start so soon. No damn wonder he’d

  worked so hard to seduce her.

  Oh, hell no. If he thought he could do this to her, and she would just melt like

  butter on a hot skillet, he’d best think a-damn-gin.

  Chapter Ten

  The doorbell sounded behind the door in the same rage-filled volume that boiled

  inside Charlotte. Or maybe she projected that, but it didn’t matter. The drive to Ichigo’s

  house didn’t quell the furious hurt and angry knot lodged in her belly. How dare he use

  her to keep from getting the pants sued off him! She brought her fist to the round

  button again, but the door suddenly jerked open, spooking her already distressed

  nerves.

  “Char?” he asked from the doorway, pushing the screen door open to allow her

  entry. His chocolate eyes beamed and relief washed over him. “What are you doing

  here? I thought you were taking the night off.”

  His conversational tone matched his body language, but it served to only piss

  her off more.

  “You ass!” she choked out, throat burning closed around the words. “How dare

  you!”

  His face fell, and worry pinched his brow. He held his hand out to her. “What? I

  don’t…”

  “Oh hell yes you do, don’t start lying. You’ve done that enough.”

  He searched her face, puzzled and questioning. She glared back at him, arms

  folded. What? Did he think she was going to believe his innocent act? She’d been fooled

  by better bluffers and cheaters and liars in her past. He’d best up his game. The pinch of his brow eased and his fall became blank, like he’d put on a mask

  over his real face.

  “Come inside,” he said, trying to capture her arm again.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  His hand dropped. Stepping back from the door, he waited, the tic in his jaw

  working nonstop.

  As soon as she crossed into the foyer, she wanted to leave. Too much. It was too

  much—the memories of his body pressed against hers, the vanilla musk on his skin, the

  feel of his lips across the nape of her neck—oh God.

  “Where’s Kanon?” she asked, battling to think of something else.

  “Asleep,” he answered matter-of-fact. “Let’s move to the living room.”

  She raised an eyebrow. Did he think her naïve too?

  He sighed. “If you’re going to rant at me, I don’t want to wake her in the

  process.”

  So he knew! Bastard.

  She followed him down the hallway. Tension grew thick, so much so she kept

  clearing her throat. Her fury simmered beneath her wish to honor the little girl, but

  once she placed a sneaker into the living room, she put her hands on her hips and her

  fury burned its way to the forefront.

  “You ass! You think you can just use me?”

  “What?” he spun around to face her fully. “Use you?” “Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know,” she grounded out between clenched teeth.

  The muscles in her face ached from trying to contain her hurt and anger.

  He spread his hands wide as if to say he didn’t get it. Confusion spilled over his

  features, turning them in on each other. He shook his head and stepped closer to her.

  “You’re being sued. So, you think you can just fuck some black chic and it’ll

  prove you aren’t a racist.”

  That did it. Her resolve broke, but only one tear managed to escape. The others

  she swallowed.

  Ichigo’s face burned scarlet. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his grip bit into

  her biceps. He scowled. “What nonsense is this?”

  “Let go of me!” she barked.

  “You believe that? You think I’m a racist?” he asked, eyes softening into hurt.

  No, he doesn’t get to have his feelings hurt. Not after what he’d done to her.

  “Get your fucking hands off me!” she spat and kicked out. He blocked her efforts

  to knee him in the nuts with his thigh. Backing her up, Ichigo pressed her against the

  wall. To do so, he let go of her hands, and she slapped him across the face, temporarily

  halting his efforts.

  “Bastard!”

  She hated the hurt and watery tears in her voice. She had to get out of here.

  Squirming against him, she fought, hands punching and slapping a
gainst the stone

  hard body in front of her.

  “Get the hell off me!” she yelled. She bucked against his solid frame, her hands a whirl, and then she squealed as

  Ichigo’s wide hands succeeded in snaring both her wrists into one of his hands. He

  secured them above her head. His powerful thighs pinned her to the wall, spread eagle.

  She could move, but not in the ways she wanted and she couldn’t get out of his hold.

  All she could do was glare at him.

  “You think I’m a racist?” he seethed against her face. “Are you nuts?”

  “You used me,” she repeated, but without the heat of her earlier outburst. How

  could he do this? She liked him so much, enjoyed him even more, and yeah she didn’t

  know if she wanted to see him again, but deep inside she already had fallen for him. If

  she didn’t care about him at all, this wouldn’t hurt so damn much.

  The hard glint in his eyes softened.

  “I made love to you, Char, because I’m in love with you.”

  “Whatever.”

  “God! I’m not a racist! Hell, Kanon is half black! To hate anyone of color would

  make me a poor ass father, wouldn’t you think? I didn’t get expelled from my family,

  disowned, and mocked because I hate people of color!”

  Charlotte stopped fighting. “Kanon’s half black?”

  “Yeah. Where’d you think she got that hair,” he said, releasing her and stepping

  back. He went over to one of the bookshelves and removed an album. He opened it to

  the first page and thrust it into Charlotte’s hands. “Here.”

  He plopped down into one of the two stiff, ebony wingback chairs. She stared down at the black, crushed velvet photo album. An emblazed date in

  silver and a quote told her this album had only one purpose—memories of a wedding.

  “That’s Sybil.”

  She didn’t want to see his ex-wife, but curiosity pounced. She had to see the

  competition, the other woman that had managed to snare Ichigo’s heart and cause him

  to lose his family and his heritage. Who would make him do all those things? With her

  stomach in a flutter, Char looked down at the page. The lithe woman beamed in her

  blinding white wedding grown. Light caramel skin—a red bone, Sybil had been

  decorated in skillful makeup and ornate jewelry. The woman was breathtakingly

  beautiful. Charlotte could make out Kanon’s lips and chin in the woman’s face. Of

  course, Kanon’s hair came from her mother too. He didn’t lie. Sybil was surely Kanon’s

  mother.

  “She’s uh, beautiful.”

  Ichigo shrugged. “Only on the outside.”

  Charlotte handed the album back to him. He threw it with disgust onto the coffee

  table. Papers fluttered up in its wake. She looked at the coffee table, only just seeing it.

  A flurry of papers were scattered across its oval surface.

  “Even if the suit was about discrimination, I wouldn’t use you like that,” he said

  from the chair.

  “It’s not about discrimination?”

  He smiled over to her, but it seemed cold.

  “It’s about reverse discrimination.” Charlotte frowned. What? She could still see the crimson mark on his cheek from

  where she’d slapped him. Swallowing her embarrassment, she shoved her hands into

  her pockets.

  “My former nanny, Ms. Avery, filed the suit. She believes I fired her because

  she’s white. Hiring you actually adds some validity to that claim.”

  Charlotte gaped at him. “Huh?”

  He got up and came to her as if she’d beckoned him. Sick with shame, her cheeks

  were aflame. Thankful for her cocoa-toned skin, she couldn’t meet his eyes. She closed

  her eyes and released a slow breath. She didn’t even ask for him an explanation about

  the suit. Foolish—she’d been rash, rage-filled, and wrong.

  A kiss made her eyes flap open and she found herself lost in the liquid pools of

  his eyes. She looked away. Damn her stupidity.

  He lifted her chin up. She struggled to hold his gaze, but instead of anger she

  found arousal. The scarlet handprint on his face mocked her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Kiss me and make it better.”

  She did, barely giving him more than a friendly peck on the mouth.

  “Hmmmm. It still hurts,” he said, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her

  close.

  “Where?” she asked, thinking he meant his injured cheek. How could he just

  accept what she’d done? “Here,” he said, tapping his lips. “And here.” He tapped his chest, where his

  heart resided.

  “How can you just forgive me?” she said, voice wavering. God she was going to

  cry.

  “Why? I love you,” he explained softly. “Loving you means taking that feisty

  personality of yours. It’s the thing I love best about you. You’re passionate and open.

  So, let me in.”

  “Ichigo…” She shook her head, smiling despite herself. He loved her?

  “Kiss me, damn it, Char!”

  She rose on her toes to meet his warm mouth.

  Hungry probes of his tongue scoured the recesses of her mouth, stirring her to

  passion. She broke the kiss before it deepened into something more. She wanted him,

  but her emotions clashed inside her. Then she met his stare, and lowered her heart to

  his chest. There, beating out its declaration, his heart’s thump, thump fell into cadence

  with her own. Together. In sync. One.

  “Hmm, that’s better,” he said, kissing her forehead. His dark slumberous eyes

  seemed to glow. His hands continued rubbing over her back. “Come to bed, baby. You

  can make it up to me there.”

  “I’m still going to end up on the sofa,” she replied, smiling as he laced his fingers

  with hers.

  “Not tonight.”

  Epilogue

  Seven Months later

  The seven people seated around the rectangular glossy board table didn’t seem

  nearly as happy or giddy as Charlotte did inside. All right, maybe happy wasn’t the

  best way to describe it, but she did feel a strong sense of relief mixed with anxiousness

  as Ichigo took her hand and sat down beside her at the table. Dressed in an ebony suit

  and sapphire blue tie, he looked like a model, and every other male in the room paled

  by comparison. His ink-jet hair had been pulled back and cinched at his neck with an

  equally dark tie. The pale blue shirt and sapphire tie made him look scrumptious, and

  she wanted to hurry and get him home. Maybe they’d get in a quickie in the elevator.

  Seated directly across from her, a frumpy, red-faced woman glared. Charlotte

  shot her a smile, full of teeth and no warmth. She’d seen the woman before, at the court

  hearing, and knew Ms. Avery disliked her. Hell, the woman probably didn’t like

  anyone and should be legally barred from being around children.

  “Let’s get underway, shall we,” Aaron Yang, Ichigo’s lawyer said, opening one

  of the folders in front of him. He cleared his throat at the other two attorneys for Ms.

  Avery. “You called this meeting, and my client has a daughter and a job to get to…”

  “And a whore,” Ms. Avery spat out. “A whore who took my job!”

  Charlotte’s whole body went still. She caught herself as her mouth opened to say

  something but the squeeze of Ichigo’s hand made her smile instead. Crossing her legs,

  she smi
rked at the woman. “Don’t call her that again,” Ichigo said coldly. “You will refer to her as Miss

  Neal.”

  “As I told your lawyers, Ms. Avery, Mr. Isamu did not employee Ms. Neal,”

  Aaron explained coolly, adjusting his suit’s jacket and forcing everyone’s attention to

  him. “Mr. Isamu did not pay her for service, did not file a 1099, or in any way give her a

  job.”

  Charlotte didn’t fight the grin now wide and bright on her face. The first night on

  the job, when she and Ichigo made love had thrown them both for a loop, and after

  talking about it they both decided that Charlotte working for him, and being his lover,

  didn’t gel. So, she opted for being his lover instead of his nanny. He didn’t even pay her

  a wage, but instead took her shopping for clothes for her job interviews. She found an

  elementary school with an emergency opening and she took it.

  “We have Miss Neal’s sworn testimony that Mr. Isamu fully intended to hire her

  as his nanny,” said Mr. Beer Belly, one of Avery’s lawyers. His gravelly voice rolled

  over Aaron’s polished one. “The intent is proof of discrimination.”

  “The intent is debatable,” Aaron said. “Intent doesn’t prove anything, which is

  why you are here. I have at minimum four former employers who have signed

  testimonies of your client’s incompetence, negligence, and overbearing disregard for

  children. You are lucky they didn’t press charges or sue. You have no case.”

  “We knew nothing of this,” Mr. Beer Belly bellowed. “Let me see them!”

  Aaron swept his hand over his pants’ leg, removing invisible lint. “They are

  court documents, filed with the case.” Ms. Avery gaped at Ichigo and then her beady eyes zipped to Aaron. “You’re

  lying! You damn chinks are always lying! Stealing!”

  Aaron’s eyebrows rose and a soft flush came to his cheek. “Chinks?”

  “Shush, Ms. Avery, let us handle this,” Mr. Beer Belly said, shooting an anxious

  look at Aaron and then Ichigo. “She’s frustrated, Mr. Yang.”

  “Frustrated?” Aaron said, and leaned back in his chair.

  “Get your hands off me!” she barked. “You stupid, ignorant chinks!”

  “I told you once, Ms. Avery,” Ichigo said again, voice like an ice dagger. “I’m

  Japanese.”

  “Clearly, your client is the one with racist tendencies,” Aaron said calmly, but

  even Charlotte could see the flush of heat on his face. He was pissed just like Ichigo at