Page 6 of Hired For the Billionaire's Secret Son

Her new boss lived on the water...Awesome.

Ollie left the car and turned to look at the house on the right. The extensive property was clad in pale-pink-tinged timber, and sported multiple pitched roofs at different heights angled in different directions. It looked huge, which wasn’t unexpected. Any man who could afford to pay her double her normal rate had deep pockets, so she’d expected a large, expensive house. But she hadn’t expected such an interesting one and she couldn’t wait to get inside.

Spending the summer here was not going to be a hardship in any way. The trees seemed greener, the flowers brighter and the air softer, as if nature was saying thank you for the break from the cold winter. She was looking forward to exploring this city, and hopefully she’d get a chance to see a bit more of the country while she was here. Because, frankly, anything was better than being in London and arguing with her family about her future with Cooper & Co.

Ollie, wearing her uniform of practical beige-coloured trousers and a white, men’s-style button-down shirt, knocked on the black front door. She wore trendy trainers on her feet—high heels and little kids did not work well—and her corkscrew curls were pulled back by a plain black headband.

She was here for a job interview, not to compete in a ‘model of the year’ contest. Ollie felt a little nervous at hearing the sound of heavy footsteps behind the front door. She pulled a smile onto her face—just a small one; there was no need to look like an over-enthusiastic clown—and rubbed a suddenly damp hand on the seat of her trousers.

The door opened and Ollie’s heart wasn’t quite sure what to do with itself. On one hand, it wanted to do an over-excited backflip—if this was Bo Sørenson, then he was hot! But if itwasher new boss, the one she would be sharing a house with, then it wanted to do a failed bungee jump and splatter on the floor. Because, it meant he was her new boss and he was, well, hot.

Argh!

Ollie’s heart thump-thumped as she took him in. He was a classic Nordic blond, tall and built, but not as pretty as some of the handsome Danish men she’d passed on her brief tour through the city. He was more rugged, a great deal more masculine. And his eyes weren’t blue, they were a deep, mysterious green, the green of ancient woods and rain-splattered moss. She approved of the strong jawline under three-day stubble, his straight nose and what could be a sensual mouth. He was also bigger and taller than a lot of the other Danish men she’d seen, with wide shoulders and muscled legs. The bottom line was that he was panty-melting hot and wholly alpha, from his nicely shaped head to his rather big feet. Oh, he was alpha...so alpha.

And, damn it, Bo Sørenson had one of the best bodies she’d ever seen. And she very much wanted to see it naked.

Oh...oh, not good. So not good. Bad—as in, terrible.Sleeping with her boss would be not only supremely unprofessional, but also misconduct for which she could be fired. It was shocking to realise that it was a risk she would be willing to take. And this was, after all, her last job as a nanny...

Really—she was going there, five minutes after first laying eyes on him?

‘Olivia Cooper?’

Ollie gave herself a mental slap and lifted her hand to shake the huge paw he held out. He gripped it, scowled at her and told her she was late. Ollie looked at her watch. It was only a couple of minutes past eleven, the time she said she would arrive at his house. Right, he was picky—sexy but rude.

Wonderful.

‘I’m barely late, Mr Sørenson, so let’s not start this interview by you splitting hairs,’ Ollie told him coolly, brushing past him to step into his light-filled hall. She looked into the living area and sighed at the cool white-and-pale-blue walls, the sleek lines of designer furniture and the abundance of natural light. The lounge area, with huge windows that looked out onto the sea, had extra-high ceilings and, under the next ceiling with its lower and differently angled roof, was the kitchen and dining area. The two areas were separated by a glass-covered courtyard. It was very different, very lovely and very Scandinavian.

Ollie placed her bag on a chair in the hallway and folded her hands, tipping her head up, and up, to look into Bo Sørenson’s scowling face. If he lost the fierceness, he would be an exceptional-looking man. Right now, he simply looked like an annoyed Viking.

Wonderful; she was being interviewed by Erik the Grouch.

‘I’m pedantic about punctuality, Ms Cooper,’ he stated.

But she hadn’t been late!

‘How was your trip, Ms Cooper? Did the driver find the house all right?’ she returned, lifting her eyebrows. He needed her more than she needed him, she reminded herself. She’d been paid by her last family: this would be a bonus job. And, if she didn’t get it, Goa was always an option if she couldn’t bring herself to return to London before she was due—and she couldn’t.

‘Would you like a cup of coffee, now that you arefinallyhere?’

Bo shoved his hands into the pockets of his casual trousers and pulled in a deep breath, then another. He had dark circles under his eyes, from lack of sleep or stress, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. Maybe her sarcasm was out of line, but she wasn’t a fan of a lack of manners, and being snapped at before she’d had the chance to say hello. Nor was she a fan of feeling sexually sideswiped, desperate to slap her mouth on his, needing to discover whether he tasted as fine as he looked.

Bo shoved a hand into his short curls. His hair was the perfect shade of light caramel and the thick stubble on his face was several shades lighter. His nose was long and straight but that strong chin suggested stubbornness and pugnaciousness.

When he said nothing, and simply stood there taking her in, his face utterly expressionless, Ollie sighed. Right, it would be up to her to restart this conversation. ‘Shall we start again? I’m Ollie Cooper and I’ve come to interview about the live-in nanny position.’

If he said something sarcastic, she would be out of there. ‘Bo Sørenson,’ he muttered, in a water-over-gravel voice. His English was almost perfect, with barely a trace of an accent. ‘How was your trip? Would you like some coffee?’

Oh, sheknewhe was being sarcastic, but he’d asked the questions in such a bland voice that she couldn’t call him out. Ollie pulled up a fake smile and thanked him. ‘Fine. And, yes—black, two sugars.’

Bo nodded toward the living room and Ollie took that to mean that she should wait for him there while he made their coffee. She went through and walked to the left side of the room, where she knew she would be out of his sight, and gently bashed her head on the pale grey wall. Why oh, why, did her potential boss have to look like he was a chieftain inVikings? Oh, he didn’t have the long hair or the tattoos—not that she could see, anyway—but he had that Ragnar vibe that men listened to and made women melt. His energy filled a room; he was the type of guy people noticed...and women lusted over.

No, no, no!

Ollie rested her forehead against the cool wall and told herself to pull herself together immediately! Yes, he was a good-looking man—fantastically hot—but she was here to do a job, not drool over the man who was going to pay her a vast amount of money to look after his son. She was a professional—she prided herself on her detachment, her ability to be a part of the family but not intrude—but she’d never felt so overwhelmed by a man before. It made her jumpy, scatty and sarcastic, none of which were good traits when she was trying to land a job.

You either get this job or you go back to London. You either control your raging hormones or you move back into your childhood bedroom, still decorated with butterflies. You pull yourself together or you will find yourself in an office in Cooper & Co a lot sooner than you’d like. What are you going to choose, Olivia?

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