Page 6 of The Billionaire and the Nanny

Penelope

It’s been three days.Three days of caring for this adorable little baby while her uncle stays away most of the day and I rarely, if ever, seehim.

It’s always just me and her, which works fine. During Lilly Belle’s second nap of the day, I open up my laptop to try and get some work done. I’ve been working on the business plan for a small PR firm as part of my senior project, but looks like I won’t have much time to work on it, thanks to Ethan Townsend requiring I do nothing but my nanny duties.

The man has issues. Yes, he’s incredibly gorgeous, intimidates the heck out of me, and makes me feel like I’m completely naked in front of him, but he’s my boss now, so I have to listen tohim.

And what’s with the whole “lock your door at night” thing? Does he turn into a werewolf? So far, nothing has happened at night, so I think he’s just into scare tactics to keep me inline.

Glancing at Lilly Belle, I let light and love come into my mind. Who could look at such an innocent sleeping creature and be so hard and hateful? Poor thing lost both parents and has to live with this cold, distant man. Why couldn’t they leave her with a loving couple? Instead, she has to grow up in this prison. A beautiful prison with marble floors, crown molding, and I don’t know what else, because I’ve been too scared to explore the house.

I reach into her crib to cover her with her blanket. She responds with a wispy sigh through tiny rosy lips. So darned cute! Lilly Belle is fair-skinned and blonde with big blue eyes just like her evil uncle’s. I fell in love with her the moment I saw her, and I’m dying to decorate this bare room with four cream walls. All she has to look at is this stupid, high-tech mobile that bores her to tears.

My thoughts are broken when a light knock at the door scares the crap out of me. “Hello? Miss Wallach?”

My heart spikes then calms upon hearing the soothing voice. It’s definitely not Ethan’s, though I wouldn’t mind if it were. As aggravating as he is, there’s also something magnetic about him. Piercing blue eyes, chiseled face, wide shoulders and stance like a Roman god statue, even as he’s ordering me around. Plus, I rather enjoyed seeing him mildly flustered when I talked back tohim.

In my eyes, we’re all the same. My mother taught me that. Then again, my family grew up without much money, so maybe that’s something my mother said to make us feel better.

Stepping over to the door, I crack it open. A dark man with gray hair smiles at me. He must be about forty years older than Ethan.

“Oh, hello. You’re Wilson?” Iask.

“The very one.” Dipping his head, he presses a hand to his heart. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Wallach. I’m Wilson Beneti. Don’t worry, I won’t bite,” he says, glancing at my hand on thedoor.

I feel stupid, blocking him from entering. This, if anyone, will be my ally. Opening the door, I say, “I’m so sorry. Come in, Mr. Beneti. I don’t know why I’m so onedge.”

“Call me Wilson, please. Let me think…” He leans against the wall. Wilson has dark, round eyes that disappear into his sunny grin. “Because your first impression here was of Mr. Townsend?” He chuckles. “Don’t mind him. He’s been that way ever since he was a child. I would know. I practically raisedhim.”

I shake my head in sympathy. “I can’t imagine such a warm man as yourself raising such a cold heart. Oops, I didn’t just say that out loud, did I?” I smile to show I’m kidding. Sort of. Mostly.

Wilson’s shoulders shudder with glee, but he raises his finger to his lips. “Monitors everywhere,” he whispers. “Not that he’s home, mind you, but best begin the practice of watching what yousay.”

I shrug. “I can see why five nannies have come andgone.”

“Yes, Ethan can be extremely demanding, but he also had a strange upbringing.” Wilson looks around as if other people are around, and I suddenly remember there’s a cleaning lady downstairs. “It’s the only reason I still work for him. I feel sorry for theboy.”

I imagine Wilson raising a difficult teenager, being tasked by Ethan’s rich parents with following him around town and making sure he stays out of trouble, then staying on as his trusty servant years later. Takes guts and patience and suddenly, I really respect Wilson ten thousand times more than Ethan.

“I feel sorry for the baby,” I tell him, glancing back at the sleeping angel. “Guess she’s going to have a hard time, too, growing up with a guardian like him, huh?”

Wilson’s brown eyes take on a sad tilt, like he’s holding onto words better off left unsaid. “Indeed.”

“Good thing I’m here to help,” I tell him. Not trying to toot my own horn, but I’m sure glad Lilly Belle will at least have my smiling face to count on. Well, mine and Wilson’s. “What did they do to him?” I find myself asking the old man suddenly.

“Ethan?” He sighs, walks around the room, making sure everything is in place. “He wasn’t always this way. Used to be fun-loving. Sometimes he still is, when he comes home in a good mood and business is doing well, I’ll see glimpses of the boy I used to care for.” Wilson comes back to the door and taps the door frame. “Anyway, if there’s anything you need, you let me know. I’m at your service, Miss.”

“Thank you.” I watch him leave, shuffling down the hallway then slowly disappearing down the stairs. Then, I slide into the room next door and continue unpacking my things and trying to make a home for myself.

* * *

At night,I play with Lilly Belle, giving her plenty of tummy time, so she’ll roll over like she’s supposed to by this age. Seems like she’s a tad behind developmentally, but then again, she has been through a lot in her short life. No worries, though—I’ll get her back on track soon enough.

She’s a delightful child, and I’m so glad she’s as easy as she is, considering how tough it will be dealing with her uncle. After a warm lavender bath, a full bottle, and a lullaby or two, she’s ready for bed. I do hope she’ll sleep through ‘til morning, and after all the exercises I put her through tonight, she should sleep soundly.

I call my mom to let her know I’ve been fine, just busy the last three days, but the focus of the conversation shifts quickly. “That’s so great, honey. Just in time, too.”

“What do you mean?” I don’t like the tone in her voice, leading me to ask questions she’ll no doubt have a hard time answering. “What’s goingon?”

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