Page 23 of Nanny's Baby for the Italian Mafia Boss

“I don’t know if I want to come out,” Sophie yells from the other side of the changing room door.

“Nanny Sophie! We have to see. Please,” Ella begs, drawing out the ‘e’ in please.

“Yeah, please?” I mock my daughter, giving her a wink and she giggles.

“Okay, but you can’t laugh.”

Anger possesses me so fast; I have to bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something crude. Who the hell would laugh at Sophie? She’s perfect. I make a mental note to ask her who talked so badly to her so I can fix the problem.

I stand, heading to her door when it doesn’t open. I give it a soft knock. “Sophie? I swear to you, the last thing I’d ever do is laugh at you. Open the door, Sweet Sophie.”

She sighs and finally the door opens. “Ta-da!” but she doesn’t say it with a smile.

My eyes widen as I take her in. I don’t know where to focus. The dress is bright red, tight, hugging every dip and curve of her body. The straps fall off the shoulders and morph into long sleeves. At the wrist, the material changes to lace where she’s looped her middle finger through it. Cleavage spills from the heart-shaped neckline and I want nothing more than to show her off.

But at the same time, I don’t want anyone seeing her like this.

She’s mine.

She’s fucking beautiful.

“You’re breathtaking.” I know she can’t miss the breathlessness in my words. My lungs can’t figure out a way to work when she’s standing in front of me wearing this. There are so many things I want to say, but I know it’s too early. I will scare her away.

“Really?”

I hate how surprised she sounds.

“Truly. If you don’t get this, I’ll have to fire you because you not owning this dress would be criminal.”

She fails to hold back her smile, and runs her hands down her hips. I don’t miss how her palms settle in the dip below her ribcage. I hold in a growl when a fantasy of me fucking her from behind as I grip that same spot overtakes me.

“I have a few more to try on, but I won’t let you see them. I think I’d rather surprise you on the gala day.”

“Well, I hope it’s this one because you look beautiful in it.” I don’t move. I can’t say anything else.

We stare at one another before she grabs the handle. “Um… I have to close the door, Matias.”

I shake out of my funk. “Of course. Sorry.” I step away and the door slowly closes, but not before our eyes meet one last time.

“She looked pretty, Daddy.”

“She did, didn’t she?” I say loud enough so Sophie can hear me.

A few hours later, I’m holding twenty bags and so is Gianni. Sophie didn’t hold back once she got into the groove of shopping. I hope as our relationship grows, she’ll shop whenever she wants and get whatever her heart desires.

“Daddy, can we get ice cream?” Ella asks just as we load the bags in the car. “And go to the carousel?”

I buckle my daughter in. “Where else would we get ice cream if not where the carousel is? What do you think this is? My first rodeo?”

“I don’t know what that means, but it sounds fun.” Ella shrugs her shoulder.

“A rodeo is where you see people ride bulls and horses. They have barrel races, too, where they ride the horse as fast as they can to the barrel. The horse isn’t allowed to touch the barrel though. It’s a big no-no,” Sophie explains.

“I want to go to a rodeo! Please!”

“You just had to encourage her,” I mutter playfully.

“You started it,” My new nanny sasses at me. “You mentioned a word she didn’t understand. How else is she going to learn unless she’s told?”

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