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The Woodsman's Nanny - A Single Daddy Romance

Page 51

by Emerson Rose


  The outside of the house is deceptive. It’s much larger than it appears but still only large enough for one or two people to live in. The fire is lit, and a television is tuned to Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve in Times Square where it’s almost midnight on the East Coast.

  A bottle of champagne is chilling in a bucket next to the couch, and two glasses are sitting next to it. “Why are we celebrating here?”

  “This is where your surprise is.”

  “Champagne?”

  “No, well yes, we have champagne, but that’s not the surprise. Come this way.” He leads me down a short hall, and I hear whining and the skittering of feet, paws to be more accurate.

  “Is that a dog?”

  “It is.”

  “Why?”

  He swings open the door to a bedroom, and there in a configured gate stands the sweetest Husky puppy I’ve ever seen. “She’s for you. My breeder’s dog just had pups, and I saw how much you loved mine, so…”

  “No way, she’s mine? I can’t Alex, my building won’t allow dogs, that’s why I don’t already have one,” I say walking to the pen to pluck the wiggly sweetheart from her mini jail cell. She promptly thanks me with a million puppy kisses, and I am in love.

  “You can keep her here until you find a new place. Visit her whenever you like, my door is always open.”

  “Until I find a new place? I don’t plan on moving.”

  “Olivia, you own a specialty pet store. You can’t not have a dog. It’s just wrong. You can take her to work with you on slow days. She’ll be your partner, people love puppies, and she’ll be great for business.”

  “I don’t know, Alex. This is too much.”

  “It’s not, and you’re in love already, so don’t tell me you don’t want her.”

  He’s right about that. He’s right about all of it.

  “Come on, it’s almost midnight. Bring her into the living room so we can toast the new year and think of a proper name for her.”

  I follow him down the hall, and we sit on the couch. I watch him pour the champagne, and it occurs to me that I haven’t seen his dogs all evening. “Where are your dogs?”

  “They have their own quarters on the east side of the house. One of the live-in maids is watching over them tonight for me.”

  Their own quarters? I guess being a billionaire’s dog is a pretty good gig.

  “I would have liked to have seen them.”

  “We can go back to the house when we’re done here if you like. I’m sure this little girl would like to see her sisters and her brother anyway.”

  “So she’s from the same parents?”

  “Yes, they’re champion-line dogs. Nothing but the best.”

  Of course, I think rolling my eyes when he isn’t looking.

  “What do you want to name her?”

  “I have no idea. This is so unexpected. I’ll have to think about it.”

  “So, you’ll keep her?”

  “Are you kidding? You probably picked the most adorable pup of the litter to make sure I couldn’t say no.”

  “I did.”

  “How did you come up with your dogs’ names?”

  “I didn’t, Lilly did.” He hands me a glass and turns his attention to the television. Well shit, how was I supposed to know that? It feels like the temperature just dropped ten degrees in the small room, and I’m not sure what to say. Unfortunately, what does come out of my mouth is wrong on so many levels.

  “You bought her dogs, too?”

  My tone is clipped and uncharacteristically jealous of which I am immediately embarrassed.

  He frowns. “No, they have always been my dogs. She named them because I was away on business, and she got tired of waiting for me to do it myself. When I came back, they were already answering to those names, so I let it be.”

  He pulls up his knee and shifts on the couch to face me. The puppy squirms in my arms and leaps into his. She calms the second she’s in his lap, and he scratches her behind the ears.

  “I want you to know something, Olivia. Lilly and I dated longer than I’ve ever dated anyone before, but it wasn’t because I loved her. She was willing to put up with my shitty schedule, and she was pliable, submissive, and weak. It was a relationship made out of convenience for me.”

  “But not for her.”

  “No. Not for her. She loved me very much. She wanted to get married, as well she should have at that point in the game. But I couldn’t stand in front of God and commit myself to someone for the rest of my life when I had no significant feelings for her.”

  Wow, so he was cool with using her up for a few years, but when it came to committing to her permanently, he cut the strings. “You’re kind of a dick.”

  His face crumples into a frown. “I’m a dick for not marrying someone I didn’t love?”

  “No, for staying with her until she started wanting more. You had to know she was in love with you, why drag it out and break her heart?”

  “I tried to break it off with her more times than I can remember. She wouldn’t let go.”

  “So, how did you finally do it?”

  He looks away from me, and I know he doesn’t want to answer the question. “That bad, huh?”

  “It was difficult, yes. Why are we talking about my ex? I don’t want to ring in the new year with ancient history.”

  I can’t help but wonder what it was that made Lilly accept their breakup, but he’s right, this is a shitty first-date conversation.

  “Oh, look, the ball is dropping,” I say pointing at the TV. The puppy senses my excitement and squirms in Alex’s lap. He positions her on the couch between us as the countdown begins. At ten, he leans in and captures my mouth in the most delicious New Year’s kiss I’ve ever received.

  The kiss is slow and sultry unlike the out-of-control passionate kiss we shared at his house. He’s reigning himself in, I can tell. He keeps one hand on the back of the couch and the other on my knee that is exposed through the slit in my dress.

  As much as I want to take this slow, I wouldn’t stop him if he pushed me further. I want him, and he wants me. Wanting something you can’t have, for whatever reason, makes it even harder to resist.

  When the crowds in NYC shout Happy New Year, the puppy throws back her little head and howls effectively ending our moment. “I think she’s saying Happy New Year,” I say scooping her onto my lap.

  “I think she’s a little cockblocker, maybe I should have gotten a boy?”

  I hold the pup up in front of me and talk to her as if Alex isn’t here. “He thinks you’re a cockblocker. That’s not nice, is it? You’re just excited for the new year, aren’t you, sweet girl?” She licks my face and yips in agreement.

  Alex is shaking his head. “Great. Allies, just what I need.”

  I giggle and continue speaking to the puppy. “I’ll bet he didn’t get a boy because he would have been jealous.” I glance up, and the expression on his face is priceless. “I’m right, aren’t I? You seriously got a girl so you wouldn’t have to compete with another male. I hate to break it to ya, buster, but us ladies stick together.” I look at the sweet little fluff ball. “Don’t we, lady?” She yips.

  “I think you may have found her name,” he says.

  “Lady?” I ask, and she yips again as if to agree.

  “Yes.”

  “I like it if you like it, Lady.”

  He watches as Lady paws at me and begs for attention. I do my best to comply until she settles down to rest in my lap.

  “Thank you,” he says brushing my hair off of my shoulder.

  “For what? You’re the one who’s been spoiling me all evening. I think it should be me thanking you.”

  “For putting up with me bullying you into this night. I know I can be pushy at times.”

  I’m surprised by his admission. I wouldn’t have thought him the type to apologize for anything. “You’re welcome, and I’m glad you’re pushy and determined. I would have missed out on a great t
ime with a wonderful man.”

  “You think I’m wonderful?”

  I give him a side-glance and narrow my eyes. “Yes, sometimes. Don’t let it go to your head, though.”

  “Oh no, I would never,” he says although it’s obvious that it already has.

  “You’re too much, Alex Wolfe. You know that, right?”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  We relax into the gray plush couch, his arm around my shoulders and Lady stretched out on our laps to watch the world celebrate the new year. When the party in NYC moves out of Times Square, we decide to go back to the main house.

  Lady has a potty break outside with Alex while I wait in the car at his insistence. I told him I would suffer the cold since Lady is officially my dog, but he wasn’t having any of it.

  Ever the gentleman he held her on his lap in the limo so as not to get my dress dirty. I tried telling him his tuxedo was worth as much as the dress, but again, he refused to listen.

  We found Lexi, Piper, and Cole lounging by a fireplace in the east wing with a maid named Emily. A young twenty-something brunette with a nice figure, she could easily be considered competition, but her easygoing nature puts that thought to rest right away. She gushes over the puppy for a few minutes before disappearing and leaving us alone with the pack of dogs.

  “Why do they have their own part of the house?”

  “The house is over ten thousand square feet. If I let them roam all over, I’d never know what they were up to. They can get into a lot of mischief when left unattended.”

  “Most dogs do, but this breed especially, they’re curious by nature. Does Emily dog-sit often?”

  “Yes, she loves animals.”

  “She’s very pretty.”

  “Is she? Do you like her? I thought you were into me?” he says with a smile and a wink.

  “Just an observation, and no, I’m not interested in women if that was your roundabout way of asking.”

  “I don’t ask roundabout questions. If I want to know something, I will let you know, and I expect the same from you.”

  That’s good because I happen to have a direct question for him. “Okay, I have a question then.”

  “Ask away.” We are sitting on the floor in front of the fire with the dogs around us. He stretches out on his side propping his head up with his hand, and I do the same. “Did you really just happen to stop in my shop for dog treats that day?”

  “Yes, at the encouragement of my housekeeper, who was indeed sick and unable to come that day. She told me the shop was owned and run by a beautiful young woman, and that I would be a fool not to pursue you. And, since I’m no fool, of course, I took her advice. Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know, it just felt weird like…”

  “Like kismet?”

  “Yes, exactly, like you already knew we would be good together, and you were just there to let me in on the secret.”

  “I do think we will be good together. I feel like we have known each other for a long time, and that’s not some bullshit come-on. I really feel that way.”

  “Me, too. I was thinking since we both feel like we have known each other for a while, and we will be spending time together since you so conveniently tied yourself to me with a puppy, maybe it wouldn’t be so awful if I went further than I normally would with a man I just met?”

  His eyes become more intent, and he scoots closer closing the distance between us on the rug. “Are you saying you might consider spending the night with me?”

  I lower my gaze to the space between us suddenly feeling brazen but not too brazen to deny my desire for him. “Yes.”

  He reaches out and hooks a finger under my chin to bring my eyes back to his.

  “I can’t think of a better way to start the year.”

  11

  I thought Alex would pounce on me and drag me to his bed when I said I was willing to stay the night, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  We spend an hour lounging by the fire with the dogs. He seems to have relaxed once he knew I wasn’t leaving. We took the evening slow from that moment on, and I started to feel on edge. After all, I just told him I was willing to forego my personal rules for him, and suddenly he put on the breaks.

  Maybe I spoiled the challenge. Could the chase be that important to him that once it was gone, he lost interest? If so, I’m glad to find out now and not later.

  The thing is, I don’t feel like he’s lost interest. We are still sharing our lives. He’s still touching me intimately, tucking my hair behind my ear, stroking my cheek with the back of his fingers, and kissing me softly. But the intensity, the urgency is gone.

  “It’s almost midnight our time. Should we toast again?”

  “Do you have champagne in here?”

  “Not in here. Come, I’ll have Emily come back and look after the dogs. Do you want to leave Lady here tonight?”

  “Yes, who would stay with her at the cottage?”

  “Milton has been staying there with her. He’s one of the groundskeepers, and he lives in another small house down the road from the cottage.”

  “Why don’t you just keep her up here with the other dogs?”

  “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

  I sit up and slip my shoes back on. “Tomorrow? Why not now?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “You like secrets, don’t you?”

  “Surprises I like, secrets not so much,” he says with an edge in his voice.

  He stands and slips his jacket back on before offering me his hand to help me up.

  “Someone kept secrets that hurt you, didn’t they?”

  “Yes. If there is something I’d like you to always remember about me, it’s that I cannot tolerate secrets.”

  “What about good secrets? Like surprise birthday parties?”

  “That’s a surprise not a secret. If you’re going to tell me the secret, and it’s not going to hurt me, then it’s okay.”

  He’s right. Secrets and surprises aren’t the same thing. He gives each dog a scratch behind his or her ears before we leave. I kiss Lady and leave her stretched out in front of the fire with her brother and sisters. “Night kids, stay out of trouble,” I say as we exit the room.

  “How will Emily know to come back?”

  “I’ll text her. I have to text Milton as well. He will be glad he doesn’t have to go back out tonight.”

  I wonder why Milton doesn’t just take Lady to his house, but I can’t ask because it’s a surprise. I’ll find out in the morning.

  He taps out a few text messages while we walk. When he’s done, he slips his phone into his pocket and takes my hand again. We walk for a long time until we arrive at a set of double doors. Maneuvering through ten thousand square feet is tiring. I don’t ever want to own a house this big, but if I did, I would live in one corner, and the rest would go to waste.

  I stand behind him, and he opens both doors for me. Inside the lights are on and turned low, the candles on the dresser are lit, and a bottle of champagne is chilling in a bucket next to the bed with two glasses on the night table.

  “Looks like you were counting on getting lucky tonight,” I say.

  “I text someone when we left the east wing.”

  “You had someone rush up here and do all this while we walked from the other side of the house?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many people do you have working for you here?”

  “Thirty-six.”

  “Thirty-six employees for one man? Why on earth would you need that many people to take care of you?”

  “Not me, the estate and its grounds. It requires a lot of upkeep.”

  I snort. “Sure, it does.”

  “You think I’m a needy man?”

  “I don’t know, are you?”

  He answers by pulling me into his arms and kissing me long and hard and deep. When he ends the kiss, I’m breathless. He presses his cheek against mine and growls in my ear, “The only thing I need right now is
you, Olivia.”

  He guides me to the bed where I sit on the edge and watch him return to the doors to close them. When he starts back toward me, he’s removing his jacket and loosening his tie.

  I don’t move, I can’t. His predatory movements and the raw animalistic need in his eyes mesmerize me. When he reaches me, he nudges my knees apart and stands between them. His shirt is unbuttoned giving me a glimpse of the golden skin covering his rippled abdominal muscles and perfectly formed pectorals.

  I consider trying to speak but decide not to for fear my stuttering will destroy the flow of electricity between us. He reaches for my hand that is gripping the edge of the bed and places it on his chest over his heart. It’s pounding fast and hard like the beat of a drum line at a football game.

  I slide my hand down his chest to his abs and raise my other to unbutton and unzip his pants. He shrugs out of his shirt and kneels to remove my shoes, and his hands then travel up my calves to my thighs under my dress.

  “Lie back,” he says in a deep, gravelly voice, and I obey without hesitation. Staring up at the masculine canopy of his bed, I feel him slide his hands under my ass to remove my lace panties. I raise my hips to make the task easier, and a shiver runs through my body as he slowly drags them down my bare legs.

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly when he separates the layers of material that make up my dress. When I am laid bare and spread open for him, I shudder at the feel of his tongue caressing my seam lightly, so lightly that it drives me mad.

  I want to take hold of his head and push his face closer to me, but somehow, I know it’s only a matter of time before he gives me what I crave and more.

  “Olivia.”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “I’m going to make you come over and over and over until you scream for me to stop, understand?”

  Do I understand? No, not exactly. I’ve never come more than once with a man, and I usually try to save it for during sex. The idea of multiple orgasms until I scream for him to stop is absurd. I tense anticipating the disappointment he’s about to experience, but I manage to squeak out a yes just the same.

  The heat of his breath against my wet sex makes me squirm until he presses down on my flat belly to keep me still. When his tongue dips between my folds and circles the bundle of nerves there, I cry out finding my voice. I grip the down comforter under me and brace my feet against the mattress shamelessly pushing my sex against his talented mouth.

 

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