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The Nanny (A Billionaire Romance)

Page 37

by Naomi Niles


  "Let me get you some water!" Halle bounced across the bed to the nightstand, where a glass of water had been set for me. Anxious to play nursemaid, she lifted the glass over Tate to give to me, spilling half the contents in the process.

  "What's going on?" Tate popped awake as he was doused with cool water, making us both laugh. It hurt my tender throat, but it felt so good to laugh, I didn't care.

  "I'm taking care of Rachelle." Halle grinned proudly, looking so much like her father when she did so. Handing the half-empty glass to me, she said bossily, "Drink up. It's good for you."

  Gingerly, I sipped the water and winced. As I kept drinking, however, the cool liquid soothed my dry throat, and I was pleasantly surprised by just how well I felt. Tate handed me some anti-inflammatory pills prescribed by my doctor to help keep the swelling down and minimize pain. I didn't want anything stronger that might make me drowsy or loopy, knowing full well I had Halle to take care. Besides, Missy would most likely steal any painkillers in the house to sell or get high on.

  "How are you feeling?" Tate asked me with real concern burning in his eyes.

  "Better," I said with a smile, and we exchanged a gentle kiss on the lips.

  "Kissing! Ewww!" Halle covered her face with her hands, but it was obvious she was thrilled Tate and I were now an official couple.

  "Come on, let's get you dressed for the day," Tate said to Halle, and the excitable three-year-old bounded out the door to the nursery.

  "Emma's here!" she cried out, happy to see the housekeeper putting away clean laundry in her room. "Can you help me put on my princess dress?"

  "Certainly," Emma said. All the animosity that used to exist between us was gone, and she seemed eager to make amends by helping me with my duties of taking care of Halle.

  Tate turned back to me and said with a grin, "Well, Halle no longer needs me. What do you say I help you get dressed instead?"

  The ornery glint in his eyes made the innuendo obvious, and I struggled not to laugh for fear it would irritate my tender throat again. Swatting at him playfully, I said, "I think I can manage on my own."

  "All right. I guess I'll go downstairs and cook breakfast. I'll make you some soft pancakes that won't hurt your throat, and take Halle to play at a friend's house so you can rest without having to take care of her today."

  "She can stay here. I don't mind, and with you around to help, it's easy."

  "I can't help watch her during the day, or I won't be able to get any work done; that's why I have a live-in nanny."

  "You still think of me as your nanny?" I felt irritated. I thought I was his girlfriend, not his hired help.

  "You do live here, and you are a professional nanny," he pointed out, and I realized maybe I was being too sensitive. "If you don't want me to leave her here with you, I'll just take her to a friend's house."

  "Don't do that. I can watch her," I said.

  "Thank you." He grinned and gave me a kiss. "I've got a ton of work to do, including finding private security guards for my two lovely ladies."

  "You're going to hire me my own private bodyguard?" I was astounded. That wasn't the kind of thing you did for the hired help. He really did love me as a girlfriend. With a sexy wink, I said, "That doesn't give us much time then." "Time for what?"

  Grinning, I pulled him by the scruff of his shirt collar into the bathroom and said sensuously, "A quickie in the shower."

  Chapter Sixty-Four: Tate

  "A teddy bear pancake just for you." I set the plate in front of Halle with exaggerated fanfare, anticipating her applause for the lopsided concoction.

  "But my favorite animal is a giraffe," she said, hugging her favorite stuffed toy tightly. The plush fur on its long neck was worn thin from her constant affection.

  "I know, that's why I made you teddy bear pancake. I didn't think you'd want to eat one shaped like a giraffe," I said with a wink, making both her and Rachelle giggle.

  I loved the sound of having a home filled with laughter. It was something I had longed for as a child growing up in lonely circumstances, but now my wish was finally fulfilled, and I was determined to keep it.

  There was no way I was going to let some asshole like Stuart Haynes violate the sanctity of my home, terrify my loved ones, and threaten to take them away from me. I'd do whatever I had to stop him. I just wished I knew who I could hire that would do the job right.

  Everyone I'd counted on so far had failed miserably. Detective Miller and the police department were utterly useless. The security company I'd hired was no better. Even after I'd paid for every upgrade they had, Stuart still managed to get past their defenses and nearly robbed me of my beloved girlfriend.

  Scott had been a loyal bodyguard and chauffeur to me for years, but he was only one man. If I assigned him to Halle, then Rachelle was defenseless. If he was watching over Rachelle, then Halle was at risk. In both cases, they would worry that something could happen to me.

  I needed a way to protect the entire household, including Emma, and even Missy, although I hadn't seen the junkie bitch since she stormed out of the house. She hadn't come home and there was no doubt she was using drugs again. It wouldn't be long now before she moved in with a new boyfriend and disappeared from our lives once more. It was a sad cycle, but one I was used to.

  In the beginning, I freaked out the first time Missy disappeared. I even hired a private detective by the name of Blake Barnes to help find her. He did a great job and was very professional. I liked him a lot and gave him a shining endorsement when he wanted to start his own company of professional bodyguards.

  He knew how to spot trouble brewing and had an excellent eye for details no one else would notice. He was able to track down Missy based on very subtle clues every cop had missed, like a different brand of beer bottle by her bed. He recognized it as being a brand sold from just a few shops downtown. When he started talking to the junkies who hung out there, he knew instantly who was lying and how to trail them, and he had the muscles and the intimidation skills to scare them into giving up her location. When a pack of four guys tried to ambush him from the stairwell of Missy's apartment, he single-handedly kicked the ass of every one of them and brought Missy back to my doorstep safe and sound. It was too bad he wasn't there; I could have used someone just like him.

  It was one of those moments when I felt like a fool for not thinking of the solution earlier: I would call Blake Barnes and hire him to serve as Rachelle's private bodyguard. I'd pay for him to bring in an entire team from his company so that Halle, Missy, and Emma had protection, as well. That would allow me to keep Scott with me and still have the peace of mind of knowing I was keeping everyone was safe. Well, to be more precise, I was hiring others to do the one thing I couldn't.

  Even though I knew I was doing the right thing, I couldn't help but feel like less of a man for not being able to protect Rachelle myself. My father never had to hire bodyguards. If anyone tried to mess with him, he just kicked their ass.

  I couldn't keep Stuart from murdering Rose, cutting Emma, or even threatening Rachelle. He'd broken into my house multiple times, landing me in the hospital with stab wounds. It was a miracle I was still alive, but what good was I if I couldn't keep him from doing the same thing to Rachelle or Halle? That monster could break into my home again at any time and take away the two people I cared about most in this world, and apparently, I was helpless to stop him.

  "Daddy? Daddy?" Halle's voice broke me from my thoughts, and I startled to see her staring up at me from the breakfast table. With her large hazel green eyes so identical to my own staring into mine, she said, "That's way too much syrup."

  I looked down at her pancake to see I had drowned it in maple syrup, which was now pouring over the edge of her plate and dripping onto the floor.

  Rachelle cleaned it up at once, then lovingly put her hand on my arm. "Are you alright? You're so distracted this morning."

  "I just have a lot on my mind. I've got some calls to make. I'm going to my office now. Are
you sure you want to keep Halle here with you?"

  "Of course, it's no bother." She smiled. "She can help me do the breakfast dishes, we'll play in the nursery for a bit, and then make lunch. Later tonight, she can help me cook dinner, too."

  "Thanks, Rachelle. I'll increase your pay, of course, since you're not just the nanny now, but also the cook and assistant maid," I said, thinking she'd be glad.

  "I didn't realize I was still on the payroll now that I'm your girlfriend," Rachelle said, looking taken aback.

  Chuckling, I said reassuringly, "Of course, you are. I'm not going to fire you just because we're dating. After all, it was part of your contract that you'd be paid for maintaining intimate relations with me."

  "So I'm still under contract?" She didn't sound happy, but that was ridiculous. Why wouldn't she be? Maybe I am just misreading the signs. I had a lot of work to do if I was going to hire private security guards for everyone.

  "Of course, sweetheart." I gave her a quick kiss and then hurried upstairs to my office. Now that I'd soothed her worries, I could get down to the business of securing her safety.

  I looked up Blake Barnes’ number and dialed it.

  "Of course I remember you," Barnes said when I identified myself. "You were one of the last jobs I had as a P.I. before I started my own bodyguard business. I found Missy Stevens living in that awful basement apartment downtown with three guys and a giant rat they claimed was a pet, but I'm certain was from the sewers. I used the money from that job as a down payment on a business loan for branching out on my own. I haven't done P.I. work since, all bodyguard stuff, which smells a hell of a lot better and pays better, too."

  "Well, how'd you like a chance to earn some more money off of me?" I asked and told him about my needs. "If you can come out to the house this morning, I'll draw up a contract, and you can get started right away."

  "Of course. I can be there in an hour," he agreed. I felt relieved, but it only lasted a moment before a new worry I hadn't thought of suddenly crept into my mind.

  How would Rachelle feel about my hiring a private bodyguard to follow her around twenty-four hours a day? I wasn't used to having to run my decisions past anyone, but since I'd asked Rachelle to be my girlfriend and she did live there, I guess I should have.

  In many ways, I'd become just as bad a dictator as my father had been. I didn’t want Rachelle to hate me for it, as I had hated him. She might see my hiring a bodyguard as a violation of her privacy, instead of the loving gesture that it was. She already seemed to be sore at me for something.

  Even worse yet, she might see my hiring a bodyguard for what it really was: proof that I wasn't man enough to protect her on my own. Perhaps that was the real reason she was upset; she was as disappointed in me for letting her down. If that were true, it was possible that forcing Barnes upon her without even discussing it with her would only make matters worse.

  Rachelle might think I wasn't just inept at protecting her, but I was also a dictator for forcing a bodyguard upon her without her permission. The last thing I wanted was for her to despise me as a coward and a bully.

  I had to protect her without making her feel like she had no choice in the matter. I could only think of one of solution: I would invite her to be there when I met with Barnes. She might be a lot more accepting of him if she felt like she had a say in hiring him. So, I asked Emma to stay with Halle in the nursery and called Rachelle into my office.

  "You commanded my presence," she said rather stiffly as she shut the door behind her, deepening my suspicions that she saw me as a bully and a fraud.

  I told her my plan in as positive of terms as I could, making the idea sound almost like a sales pitch. "I've hired the best man there is to watch you personally, and he'll bring in a whole team, so every person in the house is individually protected twenty-four hours a day. The owner of the company will be here any minute. Will you join me in the meeting with him?"

  "Of course. You're the boss," she said, but her tone was still cold. almost sarcastic.

  "Are you mad at me about something?" I decided to get things out in the open.

  "Why would I possibly be mad?" she asked with exaggerated innocence, and I knew for sure that she was.

  "You are. Don't deny it," I said angrily, but I wasn't mad at her, I was mad at myself. It ate me up inside that I wasn't man enough to protect her, and I couldn't blame her for being pissed off that I had to hire someone else to do it. Her response, however, completely threw me off.

  "Okay, fine. I'm mad. I can't believe you're still holding me accountable to that stupid employment contract I signed when I first came to work here."

  "What?" It was the last thing I had expected her to say, and I couldn't hide my surprise.

  "I thought I had become so much more to you than a hired nanny you paid to watch your daughter, cook your meals, and fuck you. I thought we were in a relationship. I thought you loved me."

  "I do, that's why I want to keep providing for you with a salary." I reached for her hand, but she pulled out of my grasp. She reached into my desk and pulled out the copy of our contract that I kept in the top drawer and slammed it on the hard surface.

  "Do you know how humiliating it is to be under business contract with the person you love? How can I know if what we have is real or if you're still just living out your fantasy to fuck your childhood nanny and pay her to love you?"

  "Are you leaving me, then?" I sat down in my chair, hard, before I collapsed like the fucking pussy I had become. I couldn't believe this was happening to me, but why shouldn't it? Why shouldn't Rachelle leave me when I wasn't man enough to take care of her on my own? I didn't deserve her, but that didn't mean my heart wasn't breaking.

  "What? No, of course, I'm not leaving you," she said. "Didn't you hear me? I love you. I just hate being your contracted employee. When you beckon me over to fuck you, I want to know it's because you love me, not because it's part of the business contract we have between us."

  "So, you're not leaving me?" I felt like all the blood had drained from my body, and I was visibly shaking.

  Rachelle must have noticed because she came around to my side of the desk, held my hand on her lap, and said softy, "I love you. Why would you think I was leaving you?"

  "Because I've failed you," I confessed, and she gasped with surprise. Pushing my voice past the lump in my throat, I told her how miserable I felt about not being able to protect her from Stuart.

  "My father was right about me being nothing but a pussy. I mean, what kind of a man can't take care of the woman he loves? I don't blame you for being disappointed in me," I ended my speech, barely holding back tears of emotion.

  Rachelle took my gruff jaw in her soft hands. She held my face so I was forced to look into her deep and mesmerizing eyes. They were like two blue pools of clear tropical water, and I was instantly calmed.

  Her voice was sultry as she said, "You're not a pussy. You're a successful enough provider to be able to afford to hire security, and a caring enough one to want to do it. You're not a disappointment. You're all the man I need. I thought I was the one who wasn't good enough for you and that's why you kept calling me your nanny and not your girlfriend, to distance us apart from one another."

  "Never. If anything, I want us to be closer together. I just get so stressed when I think about losing you, I revert back to what feels safe. Nannies and business contracts are all I've ever known, so they feel safe and familiar; but with you, I want to go into the unknown and do things I've never done."

  "Well then, let's do something new right now," she purred.

  She straddled my waist and took my mouth with her own. I liked this aggressive side of her, and it aroused and invigorated me. Taking control of the kiss, I ran my hands through her short, sexy blonde hair, tugging it in just the way I knew she liked. It spurred her arousal in just the same way, and we battled for power, each kissing the other more feverishly as we ran our hands up and down each other's bodies, desperate with passion.


  My hands slid up Rachelle's tee-shirt to cup her full, round breasts, the soft cotton stretching to allow me easy access to caress and squeeze them. Her nipples hardened against my palm, and a moan of pleasure escaped her throat. I wondered why I ever made her adhere to a dress code of blouses and skirts or dresses when it could have been like this all along. Nothing was sexier than the sight of her full tits bouncing beneath the cotton of a tightly stretched tee-shirt. Well, except for tearing it off of her and fucking her.

  Rachelle's hands slid down between her widespread thighs and fumbled with the zipper of my slacks, searching for my cock as it strained against the tailored fabric of my suit.

  "I can come back later," a male voice called out, and we startled to see a man in a charcoal black suit standing in the doorway. He had dark hair and even darker eyes, with a strong jaw and youthful grin. It was Blake Barnes.

  "No, please come in," I said, rushing to close my zipper as Rachelle quickly tucked her tee-shirt back into her jeans and fussed with her hair. Blake crossed the room and shook my hand. I introduced him to Rachelle, and her eyes flew open wide with surprise.

  "Blake!" she cried out happily and ran around the desk to greet him.

  "Rachelle Clare!" His face brightened into a grin, and I was shocked when he pulled her into a familiar hug.

  "You two know each other." I blinked like a fucking idiot.

  "Blake and I used to be neighbors in the apartment building I lived in with Mama," she explained, clearly happy to see him again. "He lived in the apartment right below ours. He helped me carry up bags of groceries several times, even though it as a whole flight of steps out of his way. He was really sweet."

  "Hey, I was just paying back the favor for the time you saved me from ruining my clothes in the laundry room. How was I to know bleach wasn't the same as detergent?" he said, and they both laughed at the shared memory. I smiled good-naturedly, but I was far from happy.

  "I didn't know you did this kind of work," she said to him, her face beaming.

 

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