She needs to go away…immediately.

She’s already broken Rule #1: Must be ugly.

Even worse, she’s pretty and sexy as hell, and she has no idea. Which only makes me want her that much more.

With her flowing auburn hair and amazing young body, those perky tits and plump, luscious ass…she’s ripe for the taking.

I can’t have her in this house. The other nannies before her met Rule #1 (perhaps one or two were superficially attractive, however nothing tempting), but they were inept. Vapid bordering on unintelligent, shall we say.

But right away, I can tell that this new one isn’t. Miss Wallach has too much intelligence for her own good. Not to mention, too much sex appeal, with those legs that would look perfect wrapped around my hips as I pound her hard up against the wall…

Can’t do it.

Plus, she’s already broken Rule #2: Do as I say, and it hasn’t even been five minutes.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I close the door and follow her into the house.

“To calm down your baby.”

“She’s not my baby.”

“She is, technically, Mr. Townsend.” Miss Wallach crouches to peer into the video monitor, presumably to find Lilly’s location.

My gaze travels down yet again to those curvaceous hips, imagining my hands gripping them as I slip my cock deep into her wet, tight pussy from behind.

I’m hard now. This won’t do at all.

She sees Lilly lying in her crib. “Is that her bedroom?”

“Quite astute,” I say, perfectly masking my attraction with sarcasm.

I get a hazel-eyed squinty glare. “And that’s upstairs?”

“Yes, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business. Leave this house at once before I call the police.” I pull out my phone to scare her. Unbelievable. Who does she think she is?

“Don’t worry, Mr. Townsend,” she says, unfazed by my display of adamancy. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. Let me first calm your baby down.” She climbs the stairs, light on her pretty sandaled feet. Boot season has started, but she obviously plays by her own rules. I imagine those manicured toes clenching as she comes hard with my face buried between her legs, but I shake that image off, too.

I follow her upstairs to make sure she’s not one of these crazy baby-snatchers you read about in the news. I may be putting Lilly Belle up for adoption as soon as this month is over, but that doesn’t mean I want her kidnapped in the meantime.

I didn’t ask for any of this.

I didn’t ask to lose my sister to a random accident.

And I certainly didn’t ask for my sister to assign me as custodian for her daughter in the event of her and her husband’s untimely death.

But that is what happened and now I am left to deal with the aftermath of fate’s petty cruelties.

Miss Wallach finds the baby’s room without issue. “There you are, my precious girl. Shh, shh, it’s alright… There, see? She needed to be changed.” Miss Wallach shakes her head as if somehow this is all my fault, and then gets to work on changing Lilly Belle.

I let her, because there’s no way I’m doing that again by myself. Once was enough. I did it this morning and am hoping to never have to do it again.

The baby immediately quiets. She’s taken by this woman, and who can blame her? I’d quiet the fuck down, too, if a hot nanny took off my nappy. Watching her work, I get the full picture from behind, which only confirms why I can’t have her around. She’s fully equipped with perfect round slap-able assets. What I wouldn’t give to grab her backside with both hands and slide into her slick folds.

More and more reason I can’t have her here. Not that I can’t control myself around women—I am the epitome of self-discipline—but I know what I like when I see it, and Miss Wallach walks dangerous territory if she were to stay. I can already see her at night, climbing into bed, probably in a T-shirt and panties. She probably lies there for a while before falling asleep, thinking about her day. She probably slides her hand into her undies, giving herself a sendoff into dreamland, and there’s no way I can live under the same roof and not come sniffing around her like a wolf out for blood.

I already want to possess her just watching her take care of Lilly Belle. She’s just so damned good at it. But the last thing I need in my life is more complication after my sister left me a tiny ball and chain.

After a long few minutes, I fold my arms and speak. “Are you done now? If so, please go. I’ll have a car take you back to the agency. Thank you for your time and impertinence.”

Finishing up the job and snapping Lilly Belle’s onesie back on, she picks her up and holds her close to her breast. Lilly Belle coos and smiles her smushed cheek against Miss Wallach’s curvy, smooth, innocent-looking body.

Something inside of me warms, melting a little at the sight of them together. Except I don’t melt. Ever.

A memory of my own nanny, Yolanda, filters into my consciousness. I was only four when I last saw her, and I remember hugging her this exact same way. My mother fired her in a fit of jealousy, because she worried I was getting too close to her. Yolanda was ripped away from me, replaced by Wilson, who’s been with me ever since. To this day, I don’t know why my mother replaced Yolanda. It’s not like she gave me love herself. My mother can’t cough up a single iota of any warmth or affection, not even to save her life.

Witnessing the embrace between woman and child before me, my initial feelings of warmth are replaced by annoyance. I just don’t have time for anything that makes me feel emotion. I won’t be able to see a beautiful woman, such as Miss Wallach, holding Lilly Belle like that and still concentrate on business, and we need to meet our quota this quarter. Business was slower these last months, and that won’t continue. Money doesn’t make itself, especially in the steel industry, and work is the only damn thing I can count on in this world anyway.

“Are you done?” I ask again.

“Yes, Mr. Townsend, I’m done,” she says, tilting her chin up defiantly. “If you’ll just let me have a moment…not sure if you can tell, but your daughter needs cuddle time.”

“One, she’s not my daughter. And two…cuddle time?”

“Yes, babies need close contact. They need love and warm skin. They need—”

“I know the fundamentals of affection, Miss Wallach—”

“Do you now?” She arches one sassy eyebrow.

Control yourself, Ethan. There’s no point in reprimanding her when she’s not even your employee. Taking a deep breath, I finish my sentence. “Anyway…I was referring to your choice of words.”

“What’s wrong with ‘cuddle time?’ Does the word cuddle make you uncomfortable?” I swear I see the hint of a mocking smile at her lips. Smart, beautiful, effective at caretaking, and a smartass. If I wasn’t so busy hating her, I’d throw her over my lap and spank her.

“You may go now. Put the child down.”

“Only if you take her.”

“Excuse me?” I give her a warning glance.

Her tone softens. “I’ll go, but only if you take her. It’s clear that you need a nanny, Mr. Townsend, and that Lilly Belle needs a loving presence. I don’t know what it is about me that you find so repellant, but if you won’t hire me, then at least take Lilly Belle into your arms yourself. That way, my conscience can go in peace.” She walks up to me and hands me the baby. “Here.”

Miss Wallach holds the baby up to me, and there’s so much I don’t know how to process. The powdery soft smell of Lilly Belle’s skin, her big blue-gray eyes like my sister’s, like pools of melted wildflowers that will harden into unforgiving iron one day. Miss Wallach’s silky arms as she holds twenty pounds in mid-air. Her infuriating resolve to teach me a lesson, the feminine scent wafting off her skin.

I fucking hate all of this.

Wilson will be here in a few minutes. He can take care of the baby until the agency sends another interviewee. I need Miss Wallach to stay until he gets here, that’s all.

I am certainly not spending any more time with the child than is absolutely necessary.

Why foster a relationship that will be over in a month’s time?

And then, suddenly, as if a dam bursts inside me, my resolve crumbles all at once. I’m too tired to fight it anymore. If she wants this job so badly, she can fucking have it.

I stare at her levelly.

“There are no days and no nights off, so if you have plans, cancel them,” I tell her, moving to the doorway, as she slowly reels the child back into her arms. “You will live in this house until your services are no longer needed. There will be no exceptions.”

Her wide eyes process the meaning of my words. “But—”

“The maid comes every day to clean,” I continue, ignoring her feeble interruption. “She has been ordered not to speak to you. Wilson comes three times a week, though he’s out of town. He’ll be here on Thursday and can get you anything you need. You will follow every task I ask you to do in the manner in which I prefer. There will be no house visitors, no guests, and no time off.”

“But Mr. Townsend, surely I’ll have some time for myself. I mean, I—”

“This child needs a mother, and while I know you are merely a poor replacement, mothers don’t get time off. You will take care of her as you would if you had given birth to her yourself.”

She gawks at me, lips parted. I could give her mouth something to do besides gape at me.

Another absurd thought hits me. I imagine Miss Wallach—Penelope—holding onto her rounded baby bump, smiling in the sunlight.

Why I think of her this way, why I imagine mine as the seed that joined hers to form the life growing inside of her, I don’t know. I don’t fucking know, and I don’t want images like this to torture me. I know it’s just science, hormones, testosterone, pheromones fucking with my brain, but I won’t continue to indulge these ridiculous thoughts and fantasies.

My sister became a parent, and look what happened—she’s gone and now I’m left cleaning up the mess.

My responsibilities are to myself. If I die, I don’t burden anyone. My death would cause the happiness of many, and Townsend Industries would still grow without me thanks to my well-oiled machine. And part of keeping that machine running smoothly means never getting involved with employees.

“Sir, if I may say so…”

“You may not,” I cut her off. “And if you continue to question my authority, you won’t last long here, Miss Wallach, I assure you. Your job is to care for Lilly Belle according to my instructions. Finally, and I cannot stress this rule enough…you will keep your door locked at night.”

“Why?” Wide, green eyes search my face.

“That’s a question, Miss Wallach.” As difficult as she’s being, I can tell she’s not doing it on purpose. She’s just not used to anyone telling her what to do. Probably the oldest sibling in her family, which would explain her stellar baby-whispering skills.

As if suddenly remembering that she’s the one who needs the money, she relents and sighs. “I’m sorry. I’ll do that. I’ll…keep my door locked at night.” I see the wheels in her head turning, wondering why the bizarre request, but it’s not rocket science—I’m a man; she’s a woman, an intensely hot one, though she doesn’t seem to know it.

Which is worse.

And entirely more challenging.

She drops a tiny kiss onto the baby’s forehead. No other nanny has treated this baby with such affection. Miss Wallach is perfect for this child, but she can’t know that. Because soon, the baby will be leaving for an adoption agency, and Miss Wallach’s services will not be required after that.

“Baby food and formula are in the kitchen, your room is to my left, no decorating this room, keep music and television volume to a minimum. Excellent work will earn you a bonus at the end of every week. As long as you follow my rules, you’ll be fine.”

She waits a moment before nodding. “Do you mind if I put up just a few images, something for Lilly Belle to look at?”

“I said no.”

“Fine.” She retracts indignantly.

“Good. Glad you understand.” I step out of the room and fight the urge to look at Miss Wallach holding the baby in her arms before closing the door. They go perfectly together, it’s hard to ignore. She probably shouldn’t get attached, but then again, nannies should know that by nature. I close the door and head down the hallway, descending the stairs and stopping when I hear the voice coming from the video baby monitor.

“We won’t listen to that mean ol’ uncle of yours, will we, Lilly Belle? No, we won’t. He’s a dummy head who doesn’t know the first thing about babies, but I do. And I’m here to make sure you have fun.”

I won’t go up there and reprimand her. She’s allowed to say whatever she wants in private, and I have to get to work anyway. Sighing, I grab my keys off the kitchen hook. Finally, I can get out of here.

But for the first time ever, I don’t want to go to work.