Page 74 of Nanny for the Protector

Wesley drew away first. Perfectly taken off guard. He smiled, my lipstick giving his lips an even more flushed look. “Ahem. I suppose you got my message.”

I glanced up into the window of my apartment. Katie was peeking through the curtain. However, the moment she saw me looking, she leaped away from the window. “Yes. My…assistant told me you were early.”

Wesley chuckled. “Your assistant?”

“Yes.”

“Do you often have to beg your assistant to give your phone back?” Wesley cocked an eyebrow.

I blushed, realizing he must have heard me chasing Katie around the room, but managed to laugh. “Well, you know it’s so hard to find good help these days.”

Wesley smiled and nodded. It felt as though he wanted to speak, but he was trapped in my eyes. Admiring me. “Oh! These are —” He held the forgotten flowers. “These are for you.”

I accepted them gingerly into my arms, pressing my face toward the blooms. The scent of fresh, romantic roses.Perfect.“Mmm. Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

“Not nearly as beautiful as you deserve.”

Damn, this man could sweet talk. I already felt weak from wanting him. Part of me itched to text Katie and tell her to leave down the fire escape so I could ask him up to my apartment right then and there. I could show him just how much I’d missed him.

“Let’s go. We have places to be.”

“Do we?”

“Yes.”

I inclined my body closer to Wesley’s. “And what places are those?”

He smirked. “I knew you’d ask me that.” Without another word, he opened the car door. “But I’m afraid you’ll just have to be patient, Cara.”

I grinned. This night was going to be perfect.

§

Perfection might have been an understatement. As we wound through the streets of the Upper East Side, I imagined all of the posh and expensive places he could be taking me. I wasn’t trying to be vain, but when you’re with someone who can have whatever they want, the imagination is prone to run wild.

I could barely believe it when our driver stopped right in front of the iconic steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. My mouth went dry. “Why are we stopping?”

Wesley smiled at me. “Because this is where we’re going.”

The driver was suddenly there to open my door, and I had no choice but to accept just how outrageous this all was.

Wesley took my arm and escorted me toward the front doors of the Met.

It didn’t look like anyone should be walking up these steps this time of night, darkness looming over the facade. “Isn’t it closed on Saturday nights?”

“Yes. Usually. But tonight, we have the place to ourselves.”

I let him take me inside in a complete daze where we were met with a docent from the museum who took us back to the American Wing. While the vaulted ceilings of streaming sunlight felt ethereal in the day, there was a magic about visiting at night. There was a magical glow about the place that felt like the sculptures peppering the floor were about to burst to life and begin dancing.

I was so taken, I nearly didn’t notice the table for two set squarely in the middle of the room until Wesley pulled me in that direction. A bottle of champagne waited for us.

I blinked as if it would all disappear once I awoke from this dreamlike state. Not the case. “This is…too much.”

Wesley pulled out a chair for me. “Not enough, I’d argue.”

I sat delicately. I didn’t want to upset the universe and see this all taken away from me in an instant.

Wesley sat across from me. “After all, a woman like you deserves much, much more than this.”

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