Page 95 of Nine Week Nanny
She smiles slowly, wickedly. “That’s the idea.”
Goddammit. That might’ve just shredded the last ounce of control I had left over any of the shit blowing up in my life.
TWENTY-FIVE
Sloane
One Week Later
The mattress dips as Pope shifts beside me, dragging me closer until my back presses against his chest. His arm snakes around my waist, heavy and warm against my bare skin. I nestle into him, savoring the solid weight of his body curved around mine.
"Mmmm," I hum, tracing the veins on his forearm with my fingertip. The cool sheets against our overheated skin feels divine. "This is nice."
His breath tickles my neck as he presses his lips to my shoulder. "Nice is an understatement."
I turn in his arms to face him, my cheek finding the perfect spot against his chest. His heartbeat thrums steady beneath my ear, a rhythm I could fall asleep to every night.
"You're virtually a pro at this homeschooling thing. How do you think it's going?" Pope's voice rumbles through his chest.
"We're finding our way. Angela has been a lifesaver, showing me the ropes. I honestly don't know if I could have done it without her." I trace patterns on his skin.
"I doubt that very seriously. But I'm glad you have her to give you the extra confidence."
"Having Micah as a model for him, and Angela for me, took this from scary as shit to a part of my job I look forward to. Lennon is very bright and picks up on things very easily. It's a joy, honestly."
Pope presses a kiss to my forehead.
"I'm so glad, baby."
That word again. Baby. It’s only the second time he’s called me that, but it knocks the wind out of me. My throat tightens, a lump pushing up that I force back down. This feels so normal, almost safe, like a bubble I’m terrified will burst any second.
"Now, let's hope he survives the next five or so weeks with Agatha Trunchbull as his teacher."
"Agatha Trunchbull. Who is that? She sounds frightening."
"Don't tell me you haven't seenMatilda? That is a classic. She’s the monstrous headmistress. You know, mean as hell, always terrorizing the kids."
"I haven’t. But if she’s mean and terrifying, that doesn’t track."
"Maybe not. But if I’ve got a little Trunchbull in me, then Angela’s the Miss Honey. Which is why I’m glad Lennon has them, too, and is spending the night there tonight."
Pope’s hand slides lower on my back, fingers spreading possessively. "I'm pretty glad about his spending the night, too, but for a different reason."
"Mmm-hmm." I tilt my head to meet his eyes. "Makes this feel less stolen, doesn't it? No monitors. No sneaking back to my room before dawn."
"No alarms," he adds, then winces. "Actually, I still have an early call, but I’m glad I get to wake up with you instead of you leaving me all alone."
"Of course you do." I poke his ribs lightly. "But I’ll be right here if you want to slide in for a quickie after your call."
"That sounds like an amazing plan." His fingers thread lazily through my hair.
"Go ahead and pencil me in."
He smiles and pulls me tight. His broad chest and strong arms are like armor. When he holds me, it's like I could face anything, do anything.
I wake slowly,stretching into the warm imprint Pope left behind, the sheets twisted around my legs. For once there's no alarm, no rush to sneak back to my own room.
The sun is only just starting to filter through the curtains, pale light spilling across the rumpled bed.
