Page 13 of The Billionaire and the Nanny

Is he serious? I can’t walk around with the baby? This little girl who is his sweet, little niece must be kept in isolation? “I see. So you don’t want to see Lilly Belle,” I stress her name. She’s not just the baby, “anywhere downstairs. Just so I’m clear.” And to reiterate what a jerk youare.

“Correct. The house is big enough. You both have your domain. I have mine.” He glances again at his iPad which emits a cold blue glow onto his face, electrifying his eyes with chilly intensity.

Let me see if I got this: stay out of the way where I can’t see you, and get that baby out of my face. Gotit.

His aloof demeanor hurts so much more because of what happened between us last night. I’m used to heads of family being somewhat brusque, but this guy takes the cake. What did I expect this morning, for him to present me with roses and tell me what a wonderful time he had? Of course not. Last night meant nothing to him. That much is clear. But…did it mean something tome?

Maybe not in the way of love and romance, because I certainly don’t feel that Mr. Townsend is my knight in shining armor, but still—I can’t simply forget an intimate encounter the next morning the way he apparently can. Especially one so intense.

Anger boils inside of me. How can he be so disconnected? Is that all that sex means to him, just hard fucking, then you go about your day? I feel sorry for any woman who’s ever tried to make an emotional connection with him, but it’s not my place to even care. “Yes, sir,” I say, trying hard to keep the scorn out of mytone.

“Miss Wallach,” he says, while I grab a snack of grapes from the fridge.

He’s going to say something about last night. Maybe I was wrong about him. Maybe it did mean something to him—he just prefers not to dwell on it. I could understand that, I suppose. But he only says, “No need to take it personally.”

“Right. Of course not.” I take a deep breath, chin up. “Don’t worry, we’ll stay out of your way, Mr. Townsend. Come on, Lilly.”

Damn it, I am hurt, and I am taking it personally.

I may not have much experience when it comes to love and sex, but I’ve never felt so used. I’m sorry but he needed it just as much as I did, or he wouldn’t have come sniffing at my door. Technically his door. Whatever. For some reason, though, things don’t feel reciprocated. Things feel like I’m the one who fell for his charms. I’m the weak one, the one who didn’t pass some test of strength. And I know it’s because I’m not an all-business steel magnate man who’s used to taking what he wants from whomever he wants, like some Category 5 tornado leaving a mess in itswake.

It’s because I’m a woman, emotional and affected.

A woman who should’ve known better.

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