Shit.
Ms. M warned me that the girls sometimes wake up and wander around at night. And if they do, they’ll be on their own—completely unsupervised.
A shiver runs through me as the realization sinks in: there’s no choice.
I have to go back. I have to slip past him, through the steam-filled bathroom where he’s still in the shower, and retrieve that damn monitor.
Chapter 2
Nico
Ablast of cold water shocks me back to my senses, a harsh contrast to the heat that had me unwinding just a minute ago.
I shut off the water and reach for a towel, jaw clenched, mind replaying the scene that just unfolded in my head. The slight shift in the bath curtains, the closed door, the faint scent of lavender that wasn’t mine—small details that add up now, with Willow’s face fresh in my mind.
How the hell did I miss that someone had been in here?The last time I’d been that distracted was… never. It was a rookie mistake, and I don’t make rookie mistakes. Yet here I am, towel around my waist, glaring at the shower curtain as if it has answers.
I wrap the towel tighter and stride back into the bedroom, forcing myself to shake off the irritation. The snow falls gently outside my window, a deceptive calm settling over the city. But tonight is anything but calm. There’s work to be done, and I’ll be extracting answers from the men who think silence can shield them. It’ll be the kind of night that calls for focus, clarity, and notan ounce of distraction.
Just as I’m getting my head back in the game, a knock at my door pulls me out of it. I pause, irritation flaring, but a sliver of curiosity edges in, too. I walk over, grip the handle, and open it, and there she is—the woman I’d just pictured in ways I shouldn’t be thinking about my employees.
“Hi.” Her voice is soft, almost unsure, and there’s a slight shiver to her, like she’d been gathering up the courage just to knock.
She’s wearing nothing but a loose sleep shirt and a pair of shorts that hug her legs, long and toned in a way I hadn’t fully appreciated until now. In the dim hallway light, she’s beautiful, almost ethereal, like a strange dream I hadn’t planned on walking right into. And she’s not wearing a bra, which makes the situation more awkward—and yet, I can’t look away.
“Hi,” I respond, leaning casually against the door frame, trying not to let on how my mind is replaying the scene from the shower in the harshest detail.
She clears her throat. “I’m Willow, the new nanny.” Her eyes dart over my chest, lingering on the tattoos, the scars, like she’s studying something unexpected.
“I know who you are,” I say, my voice a bit harder than I intend. Her shoulders stiffen, and I catch the flicker of nerves in her expression.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she begins, already shifting on her feet.
“What do you need, Willow?” I don’t mean for my tone to sound so direct, but the edge is there, part irritation, part curiosity. I want to know exactly why she’s standing here, fresh out of thememory of my shower, looking at me like this.
She takes a deep breath. “I… I took a bath in your tub earlier,” she admits, her voice barely a whisper. “And I left the iPad for the baby monitor in your bathroom. I know the girls sometimes wander at night, and I didn’t want to risk them being unsupervised… even if it meant coming here.”
Her cheeks turn pink, and she quickly adds, “If I’ve overstepped, I completely understand, and I’ll pack my things and leave first thing in the morning.”
She stands there, a nervous tension visible in every line of her face, clearly bracing herself for a reprimand. And she’s right—she did cross a line. But she’s here, owning up to it, something I don’t often see in people who work for me. And hell, she’s not just any nanny, clearly.
“Wait here,” I say, turning on my heel to head back to the bathroom. I yank back the curtain and there it is, resting on the tub’s edge just like she said. I pick up the iPad, press the screen, and the baby monitor app lights up, showing my daughters’ peaceful, sleeping faces. Relief eases the last bit of tension in my chest, but there’s an edge of irritation, too—how had I missed this?
I had been so… distracted that I didn’t notice. That was a mistake, and I don’t let my guard down. Not ever. Pushing down the annoyance, I stride back out to find Willow waiting, her shoulders stiff, her eyes wide with anticipation.
I hold out the iPad to her. “Here,” I say, watching as she reaches out, almost hesitant.
Her fingers curl around it, and I can see her relief, though she tries to mask it. “I’m really sorry,” she says, stumbling over herwords. “I was exhausted, and my bathroom only has a shower, and I thought…” She stops herself, realizing she’s rambling. It’s strangely endearing.
I can’t help the smirk that forms, though I school it quickly. She catches the expression and visibly tenses, expecting the worst, as if I’m about to explode and fire her on the spot.
“Relax,” I say, holding up a hand. “I’m not going to fire you.” I let out a breath. “Olivia gave you high marks for today, and I’m not in the habit of letting go of good nannies for a simple mistake.”
She looks like she might collapse in relief, and it’s almost amusing, the way her entire posture relaxes as she takes a shaky breath. I lean against the door frame, crossing my arms, and I don’t miss the way her eyes flick to my arms and chest.
“You know,” I continue, enjoying the flush on her cheeks, “I’m a little impressed. Not only did you have the guts to sneak into your boss’s bathroom, but you were willing to own up to it because you wanted to make sure you did your job right.”
She blushes deeper, her innocence and nerves both ridiculously appealing. I don’t miss how her gaze shifts, her lips parting slightly. It’s both a bit naive and a bit bold, and hell, I can’t remember the last time I felt this drawn to someone so different from my world.