Page 36 of Nanny for the Don

“Yeah, I haven’t forgotten.”

It’s just sex, after all.

Chapter 18

Nico

“You alright?”

For a split second, it looks like Willow’s about to…cry?

My gut tightens. But she pulls herself together, throwing on the brave face she wears so well.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, brushing it off.

I lean in, kissing her shoulder, breathing in her scent. It’s intoxicating, floating through me like a drug. “It’s for the best we don’t share a bed,” I speak against her skin.

I mean it, too. Keeping things separate is how we avoid complicating this arrangement.

She nods, but there’s something in her eyes, a flicker of something I can’t quite read.“Yeah, it is. I know.”

She rolls out of bed, and I can’t help but watch as she bends over to pick up her panties. The way her body moves, the curve of her hips—fuck, she’s sexy as hell. My eyes roam over her, and before I know it, I’m hard again.I want her, all over again, like I haven’tjust had her.

She slips on her panties, and I’m biting back the urge to pull her back into bed, to forget about the rules we’ve set up.But I hold back, keeping my distance, even as every part of me is screaming to take her again. This thing between us—it’s dangerous, but damn if it doesn’t feel right.

She turns around, standing in front of me in just her panties, and my eyes immediately lock onto her pink nipples, still firm from our time together. The memory of their taste is fresh in my mouth, and I feel another surge of desire.

“Can I use the gym again in the morning?” she asks, her tone casual with a hint of an edge.

“Of course,” I say, my voice smooth. “I’ll even do breakfast for the girls if you want to take your time.”

She gives me a polite smile, shaking her head. “Thanks, but I won’t shirk my responsibilities.”

I watch her as she starts getting dressed, and the urge to know more about her, beyond what she shows me, nags at me. “Can I ask you something?”

She pauses, her fingers on her bra strap, and looks at me with caution. “What’s that?”

“Do you have big plans for your yoga?” I ask, and I can see the wheels turning in her head as she considers the question.

She’s wearing nothing but her bra and panties, and she’s a vision of temptation, but I’m after something deeper.

“Maybe one day,” she says, slipping into her clothes.

I watch her, my curiosity piqued more than ever.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I tell her. “Have a good workout.”

She hesitates, like there’s something else she wants to say.I wait, but she just nods, offering a simple “Good night,” before heading out. The room feels different once she’s gone, quieter, but not in a way that brings any peace.

I roll over in bed, hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s hiding something, some kind of secret she’s not ready to share. Maybe she’s starting to have second thoughts about all of this, about us. But then again, the way she responded to me, the way her body reacted, it didn’t feel like someone who wanted out.

Maybe she wants more. That’s always been a risk, and the truth is, it’s a risk I’m starting to think I might be willing to take. The scary part is realizing I might feel the same way, that maybe this isn’t just about sex anymore.

I think back to how happy the girls were when she came home earlier, how they lit up around her. It’s not just about her and me—it’s about them, too.

Whatever she’s holding back, I need to get to the bottom of it. I need to know what’s going on in her head, and whether it could change everything for us.

She’s got secrets, and I want to know every last one of them.

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