Page 16 of The Billionaire and the Nanny: Part 2

“Meet up with friends,” she corrects, giving me a pointed look. “Not that it’s any of your business. If you’re going to be jealous of men talking to me, you have to tell me why. You have to tell me the truth. I see the way you stare at me at home—at your house.”

The truth? She’s delusional. There is no truth. Only thisone…

“This is purely a business decision, to protect my investment.” It’s bullshit, and I know it the moment the words leave my lips. I wanted to watch her tonight, to know her outside her role within my home, to see her laugh with friends, how she behaves when she’s free, since I can’t take her out myself.

“Your investment?” she cries incredulously. “Who, Olivia? You don’t even spend time with her. I mean, geez, you couldn’t even spend a few hours with your daughter while I went out with my friends.” She scoffs, kicks a lamppost then turns to me again.

I have to hold my tongue or I’m going to say something I regret.

“You know what?” She hisses through the silence. “I’m not going to let you ruin my night. I came here to see my friends, and I’m going back in there. Goodnight.”

She turns back to the door but I block her path again. There’s something tight constricting my chest. “Olivia needs you back in anhour.”

Her eyes flash angrily at me. “Olivia needs her father!”

Darts. Carefully targeted. Her words pierce through my chest, and anger washes through me, but I don’t know who or what exactly I’m angry at. She’s done nothing wrong, and honestly, neither has Douchebag Bradley. He’s only doing what I do every night of my life when I chat up random women to take home at BarNone.

Only, I don’t care about them tonight. I haven’t thought about other women in a week. They’re the last things on my mind, honestly. More than ever, I want only this woman. She knows me and speaks to me like no one else. Yet I can’t say anything, can’t tell her that I suspect she’s the reason. So I do the only thing I know how when I’m losing control of a situation—give orders.

“Your carriage turns back into a pumpkin at midnight. And then, Cinderella, I want you backhome.”

She gives me a fuck-you look but doesn’t say it. And just like that, I’m back in control.

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