Page 10 of Billionaire Wolf Needs a Nanny

Despite my better judgment, I went to the espresso machine and prepared another cup. As I waited for the coffee to drip out, I glanced down at my watch. It was almost seven o'clock. My driver would be here with Lacey at any moment.

Over at the kitchen island, Emilia was busy having a tea party with Mr. Snuffles. The tea was actually water, and the cups were plastic, but the bunny shaped cinnamon raisin buns were baked fresh by my own hands last night. Whenever I was plagued with insomnia, I resorted to the one thing I did best. I baked. There was nothing quite as effective as kneading out my frustrations into a ball of dough.

Thoughts of Lacey swam around my brain, keeping me tossing restlessly for hours. It was as if she was right there in my bedroom. Despite all my efforts to push her away, my blood pulsed with the anticipation of seeing her and getting to know her better.

The last drops of coffee dripped out, and like a possessed creature, I reached for the cup. There was no need for milk or sugar today. Pure unadulterated caffeine was what I wanted flowing through my veins.

I wondered if I had been hasty in hiring Lacey.

Her qualifications for the nanny position were sparse, to say the least. Had I been thinking with my dick instead of my head?

The employment contract was signed by both parties and finalized by email last night. As her employer, I had almost all the power in the relationship. If it turned out that she really couldn't handle the job, I could just fire her and pay a ten percent penalty clause. Considering that I had shoes that cost more than that, it wasn't even a slap on the wrist.

Not that I expected to fire her any time soon. Not when she blushed so fetchingly whenever I provoked her. Dirty thoughts flooded my mind. What other unspeakable things could I do to make her cheeks flush like that? Would she bite her lips and beg for more when I pounded my dick into her and drove her to ecstasy?

I shook my head. No. There was going to be no touching of the pretty little nanny. Even if she smelled delicious and had the most perfect bouncy tits that she kept hidden under that ugly sweater she wore yesterday.

"I don't want them!" Emilia shouted.

I turned around to find my chef and my niece glaring at each other over a plate of steaming pancakes. Chef Rosa had a spatula in one hand pointed at the child and her other hand on her hip, while Emilia sulked with her arms crossed over her chest. Neither of them showed any sign of backing down from the standoff.

Rosa pointed the spatula threateningly at me. "This goes beyond the scope of my employment contract. I cook. I clean. I keep the kitchen stocked. I do not babysit." She tossed the spatula into the sink, turned off the stove, and stormed out of the kitchen.

I let out a long sigh. At this rate, I was going to lose all of my staff at home and at work if I didn't get a handle on this situation. "Fucking great," I muttered.

A sniffle cut through my frustration like a knife. Emilia looked like she was on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry, Uncle Blake," she said through her hiccups.

My heart plummeted to my stomach. "Oh, Emilia, there's nothing to be sorry for. You haven't done anything wrong." I brushed her hair out of her face. "I'm very new at this, and I'm sure you miss your mommy very much."

She nodded.

"I miss her too," I said softly.

Emilia threw her arms around my torso. "Don't leave, Uncle Blake. Not like Mommy."

I looked down at her in surprise. "Oh, sweetheart. I promise never to leave you." Something sharp pierced my stone-code heart, cracking it open. It was the truth. I would die for her and destroy anyone who dared harm a hair on her head.

My ears twitched. Vaguely, I heard voices and footsteps coming from the garage door. Even before I saw her, I knew it was Lacey.

Rosa came back, bringing Lacey with her. My chef nodded curtly at me before disappearing.

Lacey paused in the doorway and took in the scene, as if uncertain of the situation she had walked into.

"Lacey!" Emilia cried out. She kicked her feet against the booster seat.

"Good morning, Emilia." Lacey walked over to the island and hung the strap of her purse on the back of one of the chairs. "Good morning, Blake." She examined the two of us with curious eyes.

"Morning, Lacey." I swigged the last of my coffee. "We're having breakfast difficulties."

Lacey glanced at Emilia's untouched plate. "I see," she said.

I mumbled an excuse to deposit the dirty cup in the sink. From there, I watched silently as she leaned against the counter next to Emilia.

Leaning down until she was at Emilia's level, Lacey spoke to her in a low soft voice. "These pancakes look delicious. Are they bunnies?"

Emilia shook her head.

"No? What's wrong with them?"

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