Page 9 of The Billionaire & the Nanny: Vol. 3

I don’t want to quit. Besides losing out on great money, there’s something else …

I’d be disappointed not to see him again .

Although my brain wants to fight this fight, my body hasn’t gotten the memo. Maybe it’s because no man has ever sought me out that way before, just barged right into an establishment and ordered me to come outside. Or because it’s because I haven’t so much as kissed a man in over a year, and this one is so authoritative that it’s sent my mind into a tizzy. But my body feels alive. Every square inch of me feels like it’s on liquid fire. Adrenaline times ten .

What is wrong with me ?

I should be livid but somehow, I’m not. It’s as if I actually like him watching over me, as if I simply want his attention at any cost .

He watches me carefully, his chest heaving slightly, giving away his stone, controlled exterior as being not quite the whole story. Wait. Is this really about his children? He taps on his phone, and cheep-cheep , the super-fancy black sports car next to us comes to life. “Get in. I’ll drive you home,” he says .

Whoa. That car is worth more than my parents’ house .

“I already told you, I’m not drunk. I was having a Diet Coke. That’s what responsible people do the night before they report to work for the first time .”

He opens the side door and scoffing, I huff and climb inside, sliding into cold, black leather. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe this guy is my boss. What have I gotten myself into ?

After he comes around and climbs in, he checks the mirrors and the road before taking off down the street going in the right direction. I guess he knows where I live, too. Of course he does—he’s got all my info and a GPS right on my phone .

“Your friend was drinking. She was intoxicated, and there were plenty of drunk men staring at you. Doesn’t give off a good impression of the person I hired, does it ?”

I gawk at him. Seriously? “Maybe they were staring at Caitlyn, but not me .”

“Of course, it was at you. Anyone with eyes can see that you…” He pauses .

Knuckles grip the steering wheel tightly .

“See what ?”

My heartbeat speeds up again like it’s at the Indianapolis 500. Does he think I was flirting with those men? Could this possibly be because he likes me ?

There’s just no way. Logan Raider is the hottest commodity on the planet. He could have any woman he wants. Quite literally …

Even so, it’s not right, but I can’t bring myself to be mad. I’ve never had this kind of attention before—the hot-billionaire-ordering-me-into-his-car-because-he’s-raving-jealous kind. Holy shit .

Checking the time on his watch, he silently decides something, then makes a left, taking me further away from Brooklyn and closer to downtown Manhattan. “Where are we going?” I ask .

“My place. You can sleep there and be ready bright and early for when Becca and Price arrive .”

“But I don’t have anything on me. I need my clothes, my bag, all my stuff …”

“I’ve taken care of everything. You’ll have the clothes I’ve bought for you, all the items you need. Stocked bedroom, stocked bathroom. Whatever you need, just ask for it.” He looks straight ahead, as he shifts through the gears. I watch his right fist commanding the manual transmission, as the engine revs. I’ve never seen anyone drive stick before .

It’s sexy as hell .

I guess I don’t need anything from home, and it would be better to arrive now than brave subway traffic in the morning. This would seem more of a blessing if I weren’t so perplexed about everything going on. I stare out the window and cluck my tongue. This is crazy. So crazy .

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a control freak?” I ask, finally .

He takes a moment before answering. Those eyes slide over to me, illuminated by the city lights, and I catch tension in them. He wants to be angry at me. He wants to tell me I’m wrong, but clearly, I’m 100% correct. “You have no idea, Miss Carrington .”

It’s the first time I ever see him smile .

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