W hen I arrive home after a hard day, I’m in the foulest mood. The urban architectural project has proven more difficult than I could’ve imagined and we’re going to have to troubleshoot some problems tomorrow .

But that’s the least of my concerns …

I find the house mostly dark, except for the electric glow of the TV coming from the play room down the hall. From the flickers and flashes, I take it the kids are watching a movie. They better not be up this late, or I’ll have to reprimand Miss Carrington. I specifically told her yesterday that they needed to be in bed by 9 PM. It’s almost 11 .

I creep down the hallway. Pausing at the door, I find Paisley sitting on the couch, wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, my two nuggets asleep by her side. She’s a sight for sore eyes. Clearly, she doesn’t know how gorgeous she is, mostly when she’s not trying. She’s asleep as well, long brown hair draped across the back of the sofa. Quietly, I walk in and turn on the TV .

Paisley snaps awake, notices me there and looks up. “Logan. I mean…Mr. Raider .”

“Why are you all here? They should be in their beds,” I say without even a hello. I feel like even the slightest pleasantries could be taken the wrong way after what we did last night, and I can’t afford that .

Sitting up straight, she pulls herself off little Price’s clutches. I reach out to tousle my son’s hair. “It’s been a long first day,” she says, sighing. “They took a while to get used to me, and kept asking for their mom. But eventually, they settled down. I was afraid to move them in case they woke up .”

“Did Miriam drop them off on time ?”

“Yes.” At this question, her whole demeanor changes. Guilt and mortification slide across her face like the eclipse of the moon. “There was an issue when she arrived .”

“What kind of issue?” I’m sure she had something to say about me hiring a nanny. She probably hated the fact that Paisley is young and pretty, too .

Paisley takes a deep breath, stands, and moves to the other side of the room to not wake the twins. She faces me. “Well, first of all, I didn’t know she had access to the house .”

“She does. This home used to be hers, and the children live here part of the time .”

“I…I didn’t know that. And second, I didn’t hear you when you left. You didn’t say goodbye or tell me it was time to get up .”

My chest constricts. “Am I supposed to tell you that, Miss Carrington? Are you not a responsible woman who knows how to set an alarm on her phone ?”

“I understand that, but I never got the chance to set the alarm or even go through my night-before-a-big-day routine, Mr. Raider, because we just fell asleep. I mean, everything I’d planned for last night was blown off course, because of what happened. So, finally, the doorbell rang just as I was getting up, and she came into the house .”

“And so she saw you. Coming from my room,” I venture to guess .

Her cheeks flush crimson. “Yeah. Not only that, but she saw…the state I was in .”

Naked.

Miriam, my ex-wife, saw Paisley naked, emerging from my room. Fucking great. “Did the kids see you naked, too ?”

“Yes.”

I turn around and slide a hand through my hair, huffing to control my breath. I can’t lose my shit. I won’t worry about the kids, because seeing a naked woman is a natural part of life. Plus, there’s nothing about Paisley Carrington’s body that’s damaging to the eyes. It’s Miriam and what she’ll do next that I’m worried about .

Facing her again, I point a finger at her. “You knew you were supposed to be up early and ready for the handoff. How could you let that happen ?”

“Me? I…we disrupted everything last night. I expected to sleep at my house, I expected to bring my clothes, and I expected to be awake and ready long before the kids got here. The one thing I never expected was what happened. Between us,” she adds to clarify, as if I need any clarification. Bright eyes examine mine .

I can see she’s hoping for some kind of validation from me, some sense that I experienced the same feelings she did last night. Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Regardless, we can’t let it happen again .

“Yes, I know what happened between us.” My blood simmers. It was entirely my fault for venturing so close to the line, knowing I wouldn’t be able to resist her. I let it happen. I failed myself and my kids. “It can’t happen again. It’ll only give Miriam more fodder for the tabloids, and I can’t give her ammunition .”

She says nothing. But I know she’s hurt. I see it in her eyes. The price of sleeping with young women is that they always allow themselves to feel too much. They get attached. Then, I end up the bad guy for breaking their heart, for telling them that nothing will develop between you. It’s just truth .

All of that and more is reflected in her eyes .

“She’ll make me look like a fucking monster,” I add to soften the blow a bit. So she won’t take it personally .

“I understand.” But the fire in her eyes says it all. She’s hurt and disappointed. Bad guy. Tired of always being the bad guy .

“Now take the kids and put them in bed. Don’t let them fall asleep in front of the TV anymore.” I glare at her, unloading anger the origin of which I can’t even pinpoint. “It’s not good for their brains or their eyesight. Or their routine .”

“I got desperate. First day and all.” She heads off and begins picking up Becca first .

I kiss the child’s forehead, as Miss Carrington carries her off .

I understand. I do. She had to do what she had to do to get through the day. “Just don’t let it happen again .”

And I have to do what I have to do as well. Which is keep my distance as best as I can, see my kids early in the mornings, then go back to business as usual. No crossing the lines. No sex. No conversations unless I absolutely have to. I’m her employer, she’s the nanny. Nothing more, nothing less. As it should’ve been from the beginning .