Page 11 of The Nanny is Off Limits

“She’s twenty-five? What, none of the other age-appropriate nannies would have fit?” Margot says as she leans against the doorjamb of my office with an annoyed look on her face. She’s the spitting image of her mother, long sandy brown hair with strands of blonde due to the sun, brown eyes, and skin that stays tan throughout the year even in the dreary winter months.

“None of the age-appropriate nannies were willing to put up with you and your siblings’ nonsense,” I respond without looking up from my computer.

“Dad, you have got to be kidding me. She’s young enough to be one ofyourkids.”

I ignore that because I don’t want to think about the eighteen years I have on her even as I feel a slight tightening in my pants at the wayward thought. “She’s not even here for you. She’s here for your siblings and also to giveyoua break from having to babysit all the time. You could say thank you.”

“Dad, I’m fine. I don’t mind helping out.”

“And I love that about you, but I want you to also have time to be a teenager and I just need another adult in the house. I work late a lot and you…” I look up at her and blink rapidly, “dear daughter, have proven to me that you can’t be trusted with constant access to an empty house.”

“So, sheisalso for me.”

“She’s not here to tell you what to do. For you, she only serves as a deterrent.” I smile at her.

“Ugh! Dad, this is a joke!” she says as she stomps out of my office.

I had thought about how Margot would handle it, but ultimately, she’ll have to get over it. I interviewed twelve women before I saw Elianna and ten of them politely declined once I gave them the rundown. One of them, I dismissed for blatantly coming on to me and the other just wasn’t experienced enough. Elianna has the experience, the credentials, a degree, and most importantly, something my children could relate to that I can’t. I think about her story and how she helped her father when her mother died, and I know their story tugs at her heartstrings. I don’t know all of the details, but I’ll admit hers tugged on mine too.

All of this has forced me to overlook that my brother was not exaggerating in that Elianna Riley is fucking beautiful. While she’s a little younger than the women I typically go for, she has a lot of the physical traits I often find myself attracted to. Long dark curly hair that hangs past her shoulders, her skin is flawless and the color of rich caramel, brown eyes, a smile that makes my heart race, and full lips I want to sink my teeth into. She’s shorter than most women I date and because she’s younger, her breasts sit up higher by nature and not with help. It took every ounce of restraint to keep my glances downward to a minimum.

I’m not blind to how gorgeous she is or the instant attraction I felt when I came around the corner and saw my daughter’s fingers laced with hers, but she’s also the first person who’s come into my life in the last twelve months with any kind of plan to help. I can’t fuck that up just because thinking about her makes my dick hard.

I like that she challenged me; it means she’ll challenge them and I don’t see her being afraid to put her foot down which is what they need. I didn’t need a Mary Poppins and I’m grateful she seems like the opposite. I’m not delusional. I know my kids need structure and discipline. I just haven’t known how to do that while also working eighty-hour weeks. It’s been an adjustment going from having them on weekends to full time and I wish I’d had more time to prepare for it.

You could cut your hours, I think for the thousandth time since their mother died.

But I’m a partner at a major law firm, which means consistently cutting hours every week isn’t exactly feasible.

So, all of the lustful feelings I may have for the woman who is moving into my house in a few days are going to be locked in a box with a lot of other things I’m currently avoiding. Engaging with my kids’ nanny beyond any level other than professionally is out of the question.

I watch from the front window as she pulls into my driveway in a black SUV and I’m grateful she drives something big enough in case she ever has to drive all three of them somewhere.

“Damn, she’s hotter than I remembered,” I hear from next to me as she gets out of the car and my brother slaps me hard on the back.

“Why are you here?” I groan. It’s Saturday, so it’s not unheard of for River to show up at my house, but it’s barely noon and I’m surprised he’s not still hungover from last night.

“SJ told me she was meeting Margot today. I couldn’t miss that,” River says as he continues to stare out the window.

“Go away.”

“Come on. You should be thanking me. And you should be thanking me by putting in a good word for me.” He puts an arm around my neck and pulls me somewhat into a headlock. While we are roughly the same height, he’s always been the rough-houser even when we were kids and I hate to admit it, but he’s stronger than I am now.

“You’re too old for her,” I say as I pull out of his grasp.

“I am six yearsyoungerthan you, which means I am only twelve years older than her. That’s nothing.”

“I know that’s your preferred age you like your women and all, but you’re too old.”

“Oh, come on. What are you her dad too? Give me a break.”

“River, no. You get mixed up with her and then inevitably fuck it up and then she wants to quit because she can’t stand the sight of your face. Absolutely not. Back off and do not hit on her,” I tell him quickly as I watch her walk up the stairs.

He groans. “If I knew you’d be this annoying I would have just asked her out. This is the thanks I get for looking out for you?”

“Yep.” I open the door just as she approaches but not before cataloging what she’s wearing. Dark denim jeans that hug her waist and her thighs but are a little looser as they go down and a plain white t-shirt tucked in. She’s wearing what I think are heeled boots underneath her jeans and a short black blazer over it. She looked professional and casual and most importantly fucking stunning. Tight curls fall around her shoulders and I ignore the thought of what it would feel like to tangle my hands in them while my lips explore her neck.

“Hi,” she says as her hand still hovers in the air like she had been preparing to knock. She smiles and I do my best to keep my eyes off of her lips but they’re painted red and against her smile, I find myself briefly transfixed.

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