Page 57 of The Bossy One

“How dare she,” Anil said, because he was nothing if not a supportive friend. And then he asked, “Who’s Brendan Carr?”

“Some guy I went to school with. Good at rugby. Bad at women.”

“And yet, your nanny likes him,” Anil pointed out mildly.

I flipped him off.

“Why do you care who your nanny goes out with?” he asked.

“I don’t,” I protested.

Anil snorted. “What’s going on? I’ve never seen you like this about a woman.”

“I don’tknow,” I said, frustrated. “She just…and she was wearing this dress…”

Anil blinked. “Wow. I didn’t believe Thomas, but it sounds like he’s right. You’ve got it bad.”

“I do not,” I said. Then the rest of what he’d said registered. “Wait. You and Thomas talk about me? You barely know each other.”

“Rude. We met at the thing in Dublin last year and we’ve kept in touch. Unlikesomepeople, Thomas thinks the memes I send are funny.” He checked his watch. “Right, I have to go meet up with a singer/actress who just dumped her boyfriend and wants me to console her.”

I sighed. “Don’t let her break your heart. When are you going to stop letting women use you as a rebound?” If my problem was being too unattached in romantic relationships, Anil had the opposite problem. He was a hopeless romantic, and since he became filthy rich, the women of Dublin used him like target practice.

“Better to take a risk than spend my nights torturing my colleagues and employees with endless emails,” he shot back. “Seriously, though. Stop working. Your assistant is worried about you.”

He logged off, leaving me staring at a blank screen.

I checked the clock. It was after midnight. How long was Olivia going to stay out with this guy?

I felt tense, restless. Olivia didn’t strike me as the type to go home with a guy after a blind date. She wouldn’t feel safe yet. She’d need more time to get to know someone.

Shit, what if something had happened? What if he’d been a bastard, or there’d been an accident on their way home, or…

If she needs you, she’ll call, I told myself firmly.And if she doesn’t call, it’s none of your business.

I stood up and started pacing. The problem was, itfeltlike my business. Olivia was in a foreign country, and she barely knew anybody but me. She was too sweet for her own good, and she was wearing a dress that looked like sin itself, and it was driving me out of my mind.

I wasn’t a man used to standing on the sidelines. I was used to going after what I wanted with everything I had.

And what I wanted was Olivia. I couldn’t deny it anymore.

Fuck professional boundaries. She was mine.

I was striding to the door, with some hazy idea of going after her, before I remembered I couldn’t leave Catie alone in the house.

I closed my eyes and pressed a fist to my forehead. “I’m going mad,” I muttered.

That’s when I finally heard it. The sound of a car in the driveway.

I was deciding whether to retreat to the living room, so it wouldn’t look like I’d been up waiting for her, when the door opened and Olivia stepped inside. Her cheeks were rosy, and her hair tumbled down around her shoulders in wild curls.

“Oh, Declan. You’re still up.” She smiled sleepily. She looked like she’d had a great time.

I wanted to punch something.

“How was the date?” I made myself ask nonchalantly.

“Eh. He wasn’t you.” She bent to take off her shoes, giving me a clear view of soft, creamy cleavage. “Molly and I went for drinks after andthatwas fun.”

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