Page 30 of Taming the Boss

Her innocence was intoxicating. Instead of wanting to preserve it, I wanted to corrupt her. See what she liked. What made her moan…and scream.

What would make her stay here with me until she accepted that what I craved most might be the absolute worst possible thing for her.

I wanted her to be my son’s nanny. My gut told me she would be good for him.

Even more than that, I wanted her to be mine.

Chapter 7

I had absolutely no clue what this man was doing. Not just with me, but to me.

He seemed to swing back and forth from impervious and almost obnoxious to very nearly considerate and concerned.

And what was up with the whole handholding thing? Jude Keller did not seem like a man prone to sweet gestures. Then again, hearing his son had a fever had seemed to shake him. I didn’t know if he had other symptoms too, like maybe a headache or stomach bug, so maybe there was something else going on.

Now that we were back in Jude’s enormous home, I supposed I’d be finding out soon enough.

He was tugging me down an endless hallway, making zero conversation as I craned my neck to try to see in every room we passed at once. And there were a lot of them.

I’d seen at least one, maybe two rooms that might’ve been libraries or perhaps fancy sitting rooms, but he clearly wasn’t in the mood to give me a tour.

The next room we reached, he led me into, following the sound of the little boy’s hiccupping tears from where he was curled up on the sofa with a tall, older, severe-looking woman standing at his side. Looming over Owen like Jude did so often to others.

She must be Jude’s admin, the woman he called Caro.

As soon as Jude entered the room, Owen quieted, his tear-stained cheeks the only remaining sign that he’d even been upset.

“How is he?” Jude asked the woman, barely sparing a glance for his child as he removed his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair. Then he rolled his shirtsleeves up to bare his tanned forearms.

Owen was staring openly at his father, his small thumb creeping upward toward his mouth as if he was hoping not to be detected.

The woman let out a long sigh. “His fever is over one hundred.”

After a moment or two, Owen seemed to finally notice me behind Jude and he leaned forward. “Baddie!”

I couldn’t help a grin. “Hi, Owen.”

“You came back!”

“I did.”

Then his gaze dropped to our joined hands and lingered.

I’m confused too, kid, trust me.

Owen’s big blue-green eyes were far too knowing for a child of his age. I’d certainly never showed such trepidation with my own parents, but then Jude had indicated he hadn’t even known of his kid’s existence for quite some time. They were obviously still getting to know each other.

“He’s been fussy and unable to settle for a while now,” Caro said softly.

“Did you try giving him a popsicle?” I asked suddenly, holding my ground when three sets of eyes pivoted my way—and only Owen seemed pleased with my idea if his wide grin was any indication.

“Do we have any popsicles?” Jude demanded.

The woman slowly shook her head. “You need to go shopping.”

“I do?” He rubbed his temple with his free hand as if he was suffering from an instant headache at the mere possibility.

“You need more staff,” she reminded him. “I know you’ve never had a chef before, but you don’t cook and someone will need to with a child. You can’t expect him to only eat takeout and cereal.”

---