Billionaire Daddy's Contract: A Single Dad and Nanny Romance

by Melissa Chetley

  My stomach twists and turns from the nonchalant manner in which the man speaks about taking me back to his home in spite of my lack of consent to allow him to do so. He clearly has the ill intention of taking advantage of me while I am in a drugged state of mind where I am completely unable to put out any strength to fight back against his will. All I can do is pathetically watch myself succumb to his every little whim like a puppet. Even now, all I feel is my feet moving on its own as I stumble across the floor and out the door of the busy restaurant.

  The noisy sound of the distant conversations trailing out from the entrance of the restaurant dwindles with each step that I am being forced to take down the dark and empty street. But even though I can feel myself gradually yielding to the exhaustion that has me bound, I stubbornly force myself to stay awake in desperate hopes that I will somehow break free of this drug that he has put into my body. All I need is a single opportunity to find my voice and call for help which is a lot more difficult than it sounds when my world won't stand still for just a moment for me to recover. I shake my head in bitter frustration of the situation.

  There's really nothing more agonizing than losing absolute control of my body and being unable to stop the dangerous circumstances that are lying in wait for me. It's like watching a horror flick and seeing one of the characters foolishly put themselves in a situation which leads to their demise -- except the dense character in the movie is me instead. I should have known better. I shouldn't have allowed myself to have that extra drink. I let my guard down like an idiot.

  This isn't the way I envisioned the night to end at all.

  My eyelids start to flutter with a strange heaviness when the firm grip around my waist is abruptly released. I instantly feel myself falling straight to the ground from the lack of energy and support that once held my body upright, the sudden strong impact of my tumble jerking me wide awake. A painful and aching sensation immediately echoes across my bones as I slowly open my eyes to figure out what happened. Yet before I can fully take in my surroundings, an angry and thunderous voice, whom I assume belongs to Zach, pierces right through the atmosphere: "What the hell do you think you're doing, man?"

  I naturally turn my head toward the direction of the heated voice and find two individuals standing right next to each other. One of the silhouettes is much taller than the other one, the shorter silhouette obviously belonging to Zach whereas the taller figure remains ambiguous and unknown to me. The two obscure figures appear to approach one another in a confrontation as I focus hard to squint my eyes on the hazy scene in front of me. However, the situation continues to stay a mystery to me until I finally get a chance to hear the deep and familiar voice of the unknown speaker who also happens to be my savior: "I should be asking you the same question. What are you planning on doing with her?"

  A startling jolt rushes through me from the distinct and unmistakable tone of the mystery man's voice. There's only one person who can sound so calm, collected, and intimidating all at the same time. Yet I also have very little reason to believe that the same person who I recognize the voice to belong to would come to my rescue after he made it apparent that he would not acknowledge me. But the more my gaze lingers on his seemingly tall silhouette, the more my suspicions happen to be cleared and confirmed.

  The crisp navy suit, the glossy leather oxfords, and those piercing blue eyes -- it is him. It is Rylan.

  "I-I don't think that it's any of your business what I do with her," Zach stammers with a scoff. "Besides, you're just butting into circumstances that you have no right sticking your nose into-"

  "Oh, but it is my business," Rylan interrupts in a curt and cold manner.

  The older man silently stares down at the skittish and jumpy man before he starts to nonchalantly walk over to me without saying another word. His giant figure towers over me as he bends down to put his arm around my waist so that he can pick me up off the ground. The gentle presence of his hand, which carefully brings me back up on my own two feet, fills my chest with a tender warmth. My heart strangely tightens and squeezes as he pulls me in closer to his chest, the musk of his natural scent wafting into my nose.

  "This girl is mine, so I would advise you to leave right now while you're still ahead," the blue-eyed man boldly claims in an unwavering voice.

  Zach seems completely taken aback by the man's ominous sounding remark, the hesitation written and displayed in his stiff form and actions. "I-I don't know who the hell you are, but I’m not leaving without her-"

  "Didn't you hear me?" Rylan raises his voice. "I said that this girl is mine."

  A fleeting rush of joy instantly sweeps through my chest from the handsome man's firm and unyielding statement. His loud and booming tone of voice instills a warm sense of comfort and a strong aura of confidence within me which swiftly cures the restless anxieties brought on by this spinning headache of mine. I softly sigh and give into the overwhelming feeling of weakness that dwells inside my body while I rest my head against Rylan's chest. Even though I know that his words are practically hollow and meaningless, I still can't help but feel a little happy in hearing it being said.

  I can't remember the last time a man has spoken about me in a possessive albeit flattering manner like that -- but all I know is that the gesture itself is highly appreciated no matter how empty his words actually are.

  A tense and uneasy silence floats in the atmosphere before Zach eventually takes the clear hint given by Rylan and finally leaves the two of us alone. The crooked man bitterly walks away with a slight hastiness to his step, his head turning back around to give us one last glance before disappearing down the long and darkened street. But even in his anticlimactic departure, I can't bring myself to feel completely at ease with the circumstances. After all, Zach put in the effort and attempted to drug me so that he could have the opportunity to take full advantage of me. There's no telling what a vile man like that will do now that his plan has been ruined, especially since his plan was going well up until Rylan showed up out of nowhere and shut him down.

  However, the tension in my heart starts to loosen and ease up when I realize that there is no sign of Zach's reappearance. It's just me and Rylan standing outside on the quiet street with the moon illuminating the dark skies overhead. I slowly lift my heavy and weary eyes up toward him so that I can see the kind of expression that he's wearing, yet my hazy vision prevents me from seeing him clearly. The only detail that I can properly discern and notice through my blurry-eyed gaze is the distinct blue shade of his eyes which appears to fearlessly gleam in the face of danger.

  My heart gently stirs as I open my mouth to thank him: "T-thank you for helping me," I shyly sputter.

  "Can you stand?" Rylan calmly asks while his blue stare shifts down toward me.

  Yet the imposing presence of the older man's gaze sends me into a sudden state of surprise. I can feel my cheeks burning up from the gradual realization of our seemingly unusual situation. First, he catches and calls me out for ogling at him in a dumbfounded manner which was definitely deserved. And then, he comes to my rescue when he had no reason to do so and allows me to rest in his arms while I try to fight off the overwhelming effects of whatever drug was put into my system. He's already done so much for me in spite of the foolish mistakes that I've made, and the last thing I need is to owe him even more than I already do.

  "Yeah, I can probably stand," I quickly reply as I force myself up onto my own two feet with my remaining strength. But I seem to get up too swiftly for my own good and in turn, almost end up falling to the ground again had it not been for the fact that Rylan's arm was ready and prepared to catch me. His hand naturally grabs me around the waist where he pulls me back up into his chest.

  "I-I guess I need some more time before I can walk again, but you don't need to worry about me. I should be fine now that he's gone," I adamantly assert while I hear my words slightly slur as I speak. Though after hearing myself struggle to communicate to him, even I start to have my o
wn doubts about whether or not I really believe what I'm saying to him.

  A lengthy sigh parts from Rylan's lips as he shakes his head at me. He quietly pulls out his cell phone and makes a call to someone who almost immediately answers him. "Crane, I need a favor. Can you bring the car out to the front of the restaurant for me? Thanks."

  The curious phone call that Rylan makes ends almost as quickly as it begins, the man promptly shoving the device back into his pocket as he points his gaze out toward the road. He keeps his stare fixated on the empty street ahead of him as if he were expecting someone or something to simply show up. But despite having my sense of space and time distorted by the deadly drug working its way through my bloodstream, I could almost swear that only a few seconds, if not minutes, pass before a black vehicle suddenly pulls up right in front of us like magic. I have to do a double take on the odd sight of the mysterious car before I can finally come to accept that there really is a vehicle parked right there on the side of the street with its engine still running.

  I blankly stare at the car whose timely appearance continues to remain an enigma to me. But as if my head wasn't already confused and frazzled enough by the night's strange turn of events, a skinny albeit tall man in a nice black suit steps out of the driver's seat and marches directly over to Rylan's side without saying a word. I naturally furrow my brow at the man's peculiar look and appearance. Neatly combed back hair that is slightly grayed from age, clean white gloves covering the surface of his hands, and a heavy air of professionalism that he carries around with him which is both daunting and intimidating at the same time -- he looks just like a butler.

  "I need you to bring this girl home for me, Crane," Rylan states as he gestures me toward the unfamiliar man. He gently hands me over to him as carefully as possible, his hands not letting go of me until I am safely in the arms of the other silent gentleman. "She's pretty delirious and out of it though, so make sure you take good care of her. Don't let her do anything stupid."

  The butler gives a single nod of his head and then swiftly responds, "Yes, sir. Please leave it to me."

  Rylan turns around and begins walking away when I abruptly open my mouth to call out to him and his shrinking silhouette: "W-wait, don't leave yet," I weakly shout in an attempt to grab his attention.

  The older man stops in his tracks once he hears my voice where he turns back around to face me with that piercing blue stare of his. "Don't be scared of Crane. You're in good hands now. He'll make sure you get home safely. You can trust him, so don't be afraid to let him know if you need anything else."

  "No," I shake my head. "That's not what I wanted to say or tell you. Honestly, I hate owing people favors, so let me do something to repay you for helping me out. It doesn't have to be now, but-"

  "I don't need that sort of thing from you," Rylan coldly interjects with a scoff. "Besides, what do you have to offer me that I don't already have?"

  God.

  And for a second there, I really thought he was actually going to be an honest and decent guy toward me for once. But I was wrong -- so very wrong.

  A slow sigh flows from my mouth at the sound of the older man's overly pompous tone of voice. Even in my blurry-eyed vision, I can already see the snide smirk appearing on his lips as he proudly waits for my response to his pretentious statement. Yet I can't bring myself to come up with a quick-witted answer for him in my current state of being. And as much as I don't want to admit that I partially agree with his arrogant remark, I do find it difficult to offer him something that he wouldn't be able to get anywhere else.

  "Please let me repay you somehow," I softly plead. "The last thing I want is to feel like I owe you something. Because trust me, I would absolutely love it if I didn't have to feel this way."

  Rylan takes a long pause with his hands in his pockets before he finally decides to start moving back toward me. He walks straight toward me without saying a word until his towering presence stands before me again. I try to raise my head and gaze up toward him to look up at him when I suddenly feel his cold fingertips nestled underneath my chin. He lifts my face up, and the last thing I remember hearing before I feel the gentle warmth pressed up against my lips is: "Then I guess I'll take this as the payment."

  What?

  My heart instantly tightens from the tender motion of his lips which kiss me with a fiery passion that I've never felt before in my life. The hot intensity of his kisses immediately sweeps me off my feet and sends my head spinning round and round to the point where I can't even think straight at all -- where I can't even bring myself to push him away from me. I feel like my whole body is melting all over. Tingles rush down my spine and form a tense knot in my stomach which only grows tighter with every subsequent kiss that he plants on top of my lips. But it's almost like the sweet taste of his lips fills me with a restless and insatiable energy that simply frustrates me, his kisses like a highly addictive drug to me.

  It's almost like I can't get enough of him even though I never wanted these lips in the first place.

  A heavy breath leaves my throat as Rylan gives me one last dizzying kiss before removing his lips from mine. My cheeks feel absolutely flushed, my heart steadily racing from the overwhelming effect of his passionate kisses. I can't tell if this airy feeling of weakness is from the drug in my body or from the power of his lips, but I can hear someone softly whisper something into my ear just as my senses start to fade and give out to the exhaustion. The person speaks in a stern albeit comforting tone of voice.

  "Good night."

  Chapter 2 - Rylan

  Just one more mile. One more mile and I can reach my goal for the 30-mile mark today.

  A hot and heavy breath escapes me as I firmly grip the rubber handlebars of the exercise bike and pedal my legs to the rhythm of the cycle. Even though I can feel the intense sweat and burn in my leg muscles, I still feel the urge and the need to go faster and further than my usual limit. I stubbornly grit my teeth and power through the fatigue while the large beads of sweat on my forehead run down the side of my face. But my persistence and determination has my mind so preoccupied with reaching that specific number goal that I don’t even notice the maid step into the room until she suddenly speaks up to make her presence known to me: “Excuse me, Mr. Bennett.”

  I almost jump up and out of my seat from the unexpected sound of the woman’s voice which takes me by complete surprise. Her unforeseen entrance and appearance leaves my entire body on edge as I clutch my chest in slight shock of the situation. I feel like an idiot when I notice that it’s just the maid and even more ashamed when I see her smile in amusement at me. A tired sigh parts from my lips as I wipe the sweat off my head. Despite vigorously pedaling on the workout bike for practically an hour, my heart actually feels like it’s racing even harder and faster than it was before while I was still cycling.

  "I am terribly sorry to interrupt you like this, sir,” the maid continues once she realizes that she has my full attention. “But I just wanted to let you know that the bath is ready for you.”

  My ears naturally perk up at the sound of her message. With all the sweat trailing down my back, nothing sounds better right now than a warm and relaxing bath to take the exhaustion and pressure off of me. I promptly nod my head and thank her for the good news which I immediately put to use as soon as the woman takes her leave. My weak and weary legs naturally carry me over to the bathroom where I strip down and hop right into the comfortably heated bath which happens to be just at the temperature that I like.

  Ahh…

  It’s almost like all of my worries and problems simply float away when I’m wrapped in a calm body of water.

  I close my eyes and throw my head back against the edge of the tub. The warm bathwater is so comforting and soothing against my worn muscles that I slowly begin to nod off. My mind bounces back and forth between the world of reality and the world of dreams when the loud sound of a rapping knuckle against the door instantly pulls me out of my light
slumber. But before I can even answer the sudden and startling knock on the door, the mysterious visitor barges through the closed doorway without any given notice.

  "Good morning, sir! I thought I would find you here after your workout this morning,” the man announces with an earnest smile. He whips out his work tablet from behind his back and holds the device in his hands. "Would you like to hear what is on the agenda for today?"

  I blankly stare and shake my head at the smiling butler with a soft sigh. What a classic Crane move to start off the new day by storming into the room completely unannounced to talk about work matters. Though I honestly should have known that it was him from the very beginning of that door knock. There’s no one else in this household who would be so bold and daring as to burst through my bathroom door like that without waiting for me to answer them – but I suppose that’s just the nature of our strange relationship with one another.

  "Jesus, Crane. You really know how to scare the hell out of me whenever you want to. Next time, could you actually wait for me to respond before you barge in like that?” I bitterly complain as I rest my head back down against the tub.

  But Crane simply chuckles upon hearing my grievances, the thought of respecting my wishes humorous to him. He smiles. “After all these years, sir? You should already know to expect this from me by now given the rather lengthy history between us. At this point, there's really nothing to be ashamed of anyway."

  “Yeah, yeah, I know," I reluctantly agree with a heavy exhale.

  While I still can't fully accept or get used to Crane's unusually odd habits, there does seem to be some shred of truth to his words. The man has been working for my family for as long as I can remember, his stern expression and appearance present in almost every single one of my childhood memories. Everyone in the family pretty much knows him by name and highly respects him for the loyalty, knowledge, and skills that he brings to the table. So even though there are times when I have no idea what goes through the man's mind because of his subtle quirks, I know that I can still trust him with my life.