Page 13 of The Billionaire & the Nanny: Part 4

Kase

The odd nannyI’ve somehow been assigned walks back into my office—dirty blond hair in a tight bun, glasses I want to pluck off her face, nervous hands clamped in front of her. She really is a creature of beauty if you don’t count the look of terror on her face. “You called me, sir?”

“What is this?” I point to the other half of the baby monitor sitting on the corner of my desk.

“A baby monitor?” She winces.

“That’s right. And what does a baby monitor do?”

“Lets you hear everything being said in the next room?” She cringes.

“Everything being said,” I stress. “And every cry coming from the baby. Miss Frasier, did the agency let you know how much I’ll be paying you for your services?”

“Yes, but I—”

“I’m not finished.” I cut her off. I’m the employer here, and so far, she’s the incompetent caretaker who needs to be quiet while I’m scolding her. “Good, because for the amount you’re being paid, I expected someone qualified, and so far, I’m not seeing that.”

“It’s just that—”

“Such as right now, Liam is crying yet you came in without him,” I tell her, tapping on my desk. I’m trying desperately not to be annoyed with her. After all, she’s new and everyone’s allowed to have a first crappy day, but so far, the challenges haven’t been too steep.

“I’ll go get him.” She scuttles off, but I call her back.

“Miss Frasier?”

She turns around.

Fuck. The young woman before me really is beautiful. I bet if I pulled that golden hair out of that bun, it would spill all over her shoulders. Her body is banging curvy, and there’s even a little bit of belly on her, which I don’t mind at all. It’s sexy. I bet she’d be soft and sweet to the touch. Even seeing her so flustered is sexy.

My cock stiffens imagining her nude in front of me.

I shake off the thoughts before I pitch a fucking tent in my pants.

“I told you the nursery has everything you need, including a bottle warmer. If you could place Liam’s bottle inside and turn it to this mystifying setting called ‘WARM,’ you might achieve your results.” I hate to be a sarcastic bastard, but seriously, this isn’t rocket science. “You could also hold my son, so his screaming doesn’t distract me from the conference call I’m about to have in ten seconds.”

“Yes, sir. That’s what I’m trying to do…”

“Oh, and Miss Frasier?”

Clearly agitated, she pauses at the door, glancing at me with worry in her big, hazel eyes.

“Degree in finance?” I ask.

She holds one finger up. “Sir, I’ll be right back to explain.” To her credit, she runs off to get Liam despite leaving me hanging, and I hear the beeps of the phone call starting.

“Kase here,” I speak into the headphones speaker. “Everyone get started. I’ll jump in in a second.” Putting the call on mute, I get up from my seat and head to the connecting door. Miss Frasier appears with Liam. My heart squeezes every time I see that kid and his big blue eyes just like his mother’s—my best friend, Evie.

Too bad I’m not Liam’s father.

When Evie and I first met, I was new at Newfound Ad Agency, and they began sending me to industry events around town. Despite she and I hitting it off right away and her being absolutely gorgeous, we never slept together. I’ve made it a rule all my life not to get involved with women. In bed, sure, but that’s it. Once and twice, and they’re out. Except for Evie. Evie got to friend status. Soon, best friend status.

One night, she came to my door crying, telling me how the asshole who she’d been dating had impregnated her and wanted nothing to do with her. She cried so fucking hard, I couldn’t let her leave until I’d made a promise. I told her it would all be okay, and at that moment, I absorbed her problems as my own. Before the sun came up that morning, I’d promised my life away. To pretend to be the baby’s father. To pretend that we were in love so her douche-y, ailing, billionaire motherfucker dad wouldn’t think she was having a child out of wedlock.

I signed my life away. Signed it with a kiss to her cheek.

The only real kiss Evie and I had was on our fake wedding day.

The façade was only meant to fool her father long enough until his death, since the old man’s been sick for a long time. Nobody expected Evie to die of a brain aneurysm instead. Now, her six-month-old is in my care a month after her death, and no one knows I’m not his actual father. Least of all Liam.

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