Page 21 of The Billionaire and the Nanny

I need answers.

The thought of that happening to Lilly Belle forces a wave of tears into my eyes. As much as I feel that Mother Townsend has a right to see her granddaughter, I also got a sense of the kind of woman she was. Something about her demeanor was strange and makes me believe that perhaps Ethan has good reason not to want to be aroundher.

He mentioned she’d been drinking. Perhaps she is an alcoholic—whatever it is, the situation is terriblysad.

Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe putting Lilly Belle for adoption is the right thing to do, and a nice couple will take her in. It’s just so unfair. My siblings and I were blessed with a wonderful mother and father who are still around, yet the little creature in the room next to mine, sleeping while moons and stars dance over her head to the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star gets a beautiful big house filled with icyair.

Why is Ethan so cruel to everyone? I thought he had a softer, gentler, nicer side, but if the man can’t even bring himself to speak nicely to the woman who brought him into this world, then I shudder to think how he’ll speak to a wife, a girlfriend, any woman who loveshim.

I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had a job like this where I’ve become emotionally invested. I’ve never had a problem leaving a home when the job is done, but this case is special. We have a baby here who needs a home, needs a loving heart, but it hurts too much to stay. Even with the pay increase, I am not getting paid enough to deal with this torment. Even if he quadrupled my salary tonight, it still wouldn’t be enough.

That’s when it hits me that I’m not still here for the money.

I’m here because I care for that sleeping angel. I care about what happens to her. I worry that if I leave, everything will go to shit for her. I’m the only good thing going on in her life right now, and this is a quandary I’ve never been in before.

Then, there’s Ethan. I find myself caring for him, too. But why, though? He’s callous, he turns warm and cold like a faucet, and he’s clearly a dick. Take that back. Scratch that. It doesn’t feel right to say that about the man who smiled at Lilly Belle and me in the kitchen, who held me tightly the night that we slept together. He didn’t have to do that. He could’ve walked right out, but he stayed a while. Made sure I fell asleep then helped the baby fall back asleep, in order to not wakeme.

There is a softerside.

He must be in pain, then.

There’s only one reason a man would speak to his mother that way, and it has to be because of his past, his upbringing. Again, the benefit of the doubt. I’ll stay. I’ll stay only because I care to see how this ends up. I don’t like all the rules, or the restrictions on where I can walk in the house, or the absence of a social life, but I’ve already got both my feet in the pool, so I may as well go for aswim.

Besides, I need the money.

If it becomes too much, then I’ll tell Le Nanny I can’t anymore. And that’ll beit.

I check my phone in the darkness of my room for the time, noting it’s three in the morning. From somewhere downstairs, I hear a clanking sound, petrifying my body. Is someone breaking in, or is that just Ethan walking around? I’m scared to go look, but I can’t risk staying upstairs if someone were in the house. I would want to alert Ethan as quickly as possible.

Grabbing my robe off the hook in the bathroom, I wrap it around my body and head out slowly. Not only is there clanking, but there’s music, too. A light aria coming from somewhere. Maybe the burglar loves opera? Pfft, crazy. I’m not usually awake at three in the morning, so it’s most likely I’m just hearing noises from the buildings next door or something. I creep downstairs, through the kitchen, following the source of the sound, which leads me all the way to dark hallway at the back of the house. I’ve never ventured this far before into Ethan’s home, and now I’m nervous as allhell.

I hug myself in the cold hallway, padding my bare feet on the wooden floor, slowly approaching a mostly closed door left ajar. The light glows around it like in some horror movie but instead of hearing screams or ghostly moans, I hear what sounds like gym equipment, clinking, clanking and being thrown down in bursts of frustration.

When I reach the door, I push it open ever so slowly, peeking through. Finally, I see him. He doesn’t see me, but it’s him, and I’m somewhat relieved. But seeing Ethan Townsend wearing only workout pants, no shirt, his chest rippled with shiny muscles, and his brow line covered with sweat might actually be worse than encountering a burglar.

Because now I’m mesmerized by his aura. I want him again.

He lifts the barbell, struggles to raise it above his head, forcing the veins to protrude from his biceps, triceps, and every kind of cep known to mankind, and seeing his frustrations vent with every breath, shake of his head, and pacing around the room, I know I’m in trouble.

This man is tormented. Haunted by his past. I see it in his face, hear it in his heavy breath. Know it with my heart, because why else would he be awake at this time, working out like a madman?

My footstep causes the floor to creak, calling attention to my presence. Before he can call me on it and get mad about it, I step through the open doorway into the full light of the fancy home gym. “Ethan…” Not Mr. Townsend. We’re not at work rightnow.

His striking face whips around, his mouth slightly open with exhaustion, both the physical and mental kind. “Miss Wallach, what are you doinghere?”

Doesn’t matter what I call him, because standing here, feeling the static electricity in the space between us, potential or stored energy waiting to be released, the exchange of empathy plus need and desire and longing, all amplified in the middle of the night from emotional exhaustion, our boundaries mean nothing.

My status as employee means nothing. Right now, he’s a man going through turmoil, and I’m a woman unsure of what to do, how to comfort him, and all I know is that I want to take him in my arms and tell him it’s going to be okay, that things will sort themselves out, and in the meantime, I can take care ofhim.

I don’t have to say a word. He understands, and he’s all for it. Ethan rushes toward the door, a man on a mission, pulls me harshly away from the door, and then he’s slamming me against the gym mirror, pushing my arms over my head, and kissingme.

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