Sasha

I started my day hopeful, but by noon I was jobless, carless, and soon-to-be homeless. Then Dr. Xander Sullivan came along and solved all of our problems in one fell swoop.

I don’t know much about kids. I’m an only child, and I was never the babysitting type. But I’m not worried at all. Tori and I click. And who could ask for a better job than kicking it with a kid all day for a hefty paycheck, a place to live, and a car? I’d be an idiot to pass that up.

Now I’m hanging out in the clinic’s break room coloring with Victoria and waiting for her sexy daddy to finish work so we can go home. Twyla’s going to freak when she finds out I’m moving out, but when I tell her I lost my job, she will understand. Hell, what am I thinking? She’ll probably pack my bags for me. She’s been rooting for me to hook-up with the doctor since day one.

“Ladies, are you ready to go home?” Xander asks from the door of the break room. He put a stop to me calling him Dr. Sullivan this afternoon and insisted I call him by his first name.

“Sure, one second while we clean up. Victoria, will you put the Crayons in the box while I get a folder for our pictures?”

“Uh-huh,” she says nodding her head. “I made this for you, Daddy.” She holds up the superhero-coloring book she’s been coloring in to show him a picture of Superman.

“That’s amazing, bug,” he says taking the book from her to have a closer look. I like the way he pays attention to her work. He takes his time looking at it. When I was little, my mom could hardly tear her eyes away from her soap operas long enough to look at anything I’d made.

After only a few hours, I know without a doubt that Xander is a great parent. He may have hired me spontaneously, but he’s cautious and responsible. Proof of this came when he asked if I would mind having a background check done before taking me home tonight. I agreed, of course. I have nothing to hide—well, nothing he can find anyway.

“She’s quite the artist, and I’m not just saying that because you gave me a job.” He looks up, and I wink at him. I’m not a winker, never have been, but something about this man brings out the flirt in me.

He narrows his eyes looking intently at me, and for a second, I think he’s pissed, but then he winks, too. My insides melt, and a bolt of electricity tickles low in my belly. My God, if a mere wink can do that, what would a touch or a kiss do?

I shake the thought free and remind myself that I am working for him and caring for his child not pursuing a relationship. How screwed up would that be? Move in, fall in love with the boss and his sweet little girl, put their lives in danger, and get dumped when the real nanny comes home. No, that’s not how this can go.

I’m going to do this job to the best of my ability, earn a nice chunk of change, and move on. I don’t belong in his world.

“I’m hungry,” Victoria whines, and Xander picks her up.

“Let’s go home and have dinner then. Pizza okay with you, Sasha?”

“Sure, pizza’s good.”

Victoria drops her head back looking at the ceiling. “Hurry, Daddy, hurry,” she says dramatically as if she waits another moment, she will surely perish.

“All right, princess. Sasha,” he says gesturing for me to go ahead of him. I take the lead and listen to them chatter about what kind of pizza is their favorite until we are in the parking lot.

“This is us,” he says stopping next to a sleek black Bentley SUV. I don’t know much about cars other than where the key goes and how to put gas in the gas tank, but even I can tell this car is very expensive.

He holds the passenger door open for me, and I slide in on the buttery leather seat. He shuts the door and rounds the vehicle to put Victoria in her seat. I look back and smile at her as she wiggles and protests about being buckled in. I didn’t know kids her age sat in a safety seat. Shit, I would have put her in a regular seat with a seatbelt. I need to do some research on child safety, so I don’t kill this kid before my two weeks are up.

I smile politely and direct my eyes forward when Xander climbs into the car. I’m already uncomfortable thinking about my non-flirting plan, but I have to keep this professional for everyone’s sake.

“So, where do you live?”

“It’s only a couple of miles from here. It won’t take long.”

“Can we go see my Zion later, Daddy?”

Xander looks at her in his rearview mirror. “Maybe, I’ll call and see how she’s feeling. If she’s up for visitors and you’re not too tired after dinner, we will go.”

She sits up taller in her seat. “I’m not tired.”

“Maybe not now, but after dinner, you might be.”

“Nope, nope, nope,” she says stubbornly.

“Zion’s your regular nanny?” I ask even though I know she is.

“Yes. She’s been with us since Tori was a baby.” I want to ask what happened to her mother, but that will have to wait for a time when Victoria isn’t around.

“She must be very special to you both.”

“The most specialist,” Victoria says, and a pang of jealousy hits me in the chest. What the hell? What is wrong with me? I have never considered myself the jealous type, but that was jealousy I felt.

“She’s great, a little lax on appropriate television programming, but she more than makes up for that in other departments,” Xander says. Other departments, huh? I wonder what other departments he means.

We drive in silence the rest of the way to their house. Victoria is humming softly along with the radio, and Xander appears to be lost in his thoughts. I watch the cars, the birds, and the weather to keep my mind off of my life and it’s lack of direction. Before I know it, we are pulling into a long driveway blocked by an enormous wrought iron gate embellished with the letter S.

Xander presses a code into his cell phone, and the gates begin to open slowly. He feels me looking at him, and without turning to me, he says, “We take security very seriously here. You’ll get used to it.”

I assume this has something to do with his ex breaking into his house and upsetting Victoria. What did that woman do to justify this kind of security? I’m not sure I want to know.

I take a quick glance into the back seat and find Victoria clutching her superhero coloring book in her sleep. She’s even more beautiful when she’s asleep if that were possible. She reminds me of one of those little girls on television who gets put into beauty pageants when she’s two years old. She has big wide eyes, perfectly pouty lips, flawless peaches-and-cream skin and long, wavy hair that hangs to her butt.

“She’s out,” I say, and he checks in his mirror.

“She’s had a rough week. A new nanny every day, worrying about Zion, and coming to the clinic with me has her worn out.”

“Poor thing.” He nods in agreement and a muscle twitches in his jaw. He doesn’t like what all of this is doing to his baby. “Maybe a good night’s rest and a day at home doing regular stuff tomorrow will help?”

He smiles a sad, tired smile. “You don’t know how much I hope you’re right.”

A few minutes later, we are pulling into a six-stall garage that is attached to the biggest house I’ve ever been this close to. When I step out of the car, the garage door is still open, and I can smell the ocean nearby. Outside, I can hear it, too.

“We can go in through the garage,” he says lifting a limp Victoria out of her seat. “I’m not sure she’s going to come around for pizza.” He shifts her weight to get a better grip on her, and his briefcase slips from his hand.

“Whoa, careful,” I say grabbing it.

“Thanks, I thought I had it. Could you bring it?”

“Yeah.”

“So, would you rather have something more adult for dinner?”

“You’re serious? You don’t think she’ll wake up and want to eat?”

“Yes, I’m serious. She’s out.”

“I’m not picky, anything is fine.”

“Straight ahead and take a right at the kitchen,” he directs when we are inside. I follow his directions and step into a beautiful open-concept room that overlooks the ocean through a glass wall.

“Wow, this is amazing.” I continue taking it all in—the sprawling living room that flows into a long area with a dining room table for twelve, state-of-the-art kitchen with double islands, and a music area complete with guitars, a grand piano, drums, and a microphone on a stand like it’s ready for a live performance.

“Welcome home, Sasha. Mi casa es su casa.”

“For two weeks anyway, yeah,” I say wandering to the music area. “What’s all this?”

“Oh that, I dabble in music.”

I spread my arms wide. “This is dabbling? Geesh, I’d hate to see what a casual hobby looks like to you. This is like thousands of dollars’ worth of musical instruments.”

“Top of the line, nothing better,” he says, and I’m reminded of the arrogant Xander that turned me off in the emergency room after my accident. I keep my mouth shut and continue to look around.

“So, you play all those instruments?”

“Yes.”

“Do you sing?”

“Yes.”

“Will you sing for me?” I ask and regret the words and the flirtatious way I delivered them immediately.

“Maybe sometime. I’m going to go lay her down and have a look around. Make yourself at home.”

Our eyes lock, and I have the urge to close the distance between us and kiss his mouth. And the crazy thing is I swear he’s reading my mind. I drop my gaze to the floor, and when I look up, they are gone. Releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding, I walk to the glass wall and look out over the ocean. I’ve always loved the ocean, it’s part of the reason I moved to California. The other part tried to kill me in his car two weeks ago.

“It’s soothing, isn’t it?” Xander says yanking me from my reality and making me jump. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay, lost in thought, I guess.” I smile and slip my hands into the pockets in my sundress.

“Not having second thoughts, I hope.”

“Oh, no, not at all. I’m not stupid… this is a great opportunity. I appreciate you helping me…” He steps closer and without warning, his mouth is on mine silencing my nervous chattering.

His tongue slides along my bottom lip asking for entrance. I give it to him willingly without a thought. His hand slides around my neck, and he deepens the kiss making my toes curl inside my sandals.

I step in closer and press my front to his chest threading my fingers through his hair with one hand and resting the other over his pounding heart. He is just as affected by our kiss as I am. I wasn’t imagining the attraction, the chemistry, the road to pain, and ultimately disappointment.

I pull away suddenly and step back. “We shouldn’t,” I whisper. “It’s not professional.”

He reaches out, and I take another step back. “Why does it have to be professional? Why can’t I kiss the beautiful woman who just so happens to be taking care of my daughter?”

I don’t know what to tell him. I mean, I guess I could say because I’m prone to falling in love and becoming very attached. Or I could explain that I have a psycho ex-husband who can’t stand to see me with anyone but him even though he doesn’t want me for himself, thank God. Or how about the fact that I already think I love his daughter after spending an afternoon with her because she reminds me of what I lost when I lost my child a year ago.

No, none of that is appropriate, and all of it would have him calling an Uber so fast it would make my head spin. Then where would I be? Back in my apartment that I can’t afford with no job and no car, that’s where. I need this job. It’s the difference between me living in a homeless shelter and having enough money to comfortably live on for six months.

“I don’t know you, Xander. I mean, you’re my doctor, but I don’t know you like that.”

“Sweetheart, this is how people get to know each other like that,” he says pulling me against him again. God, I know this is wrong, and I should push him away again, but he smells so good, and he’s so strong and masculine and powerful and successful and…

I took too long, his mouth is on mine again. The kiss is softer this time, not as insistent or desperate. Little does he know that’s a much bigger turn on for me than the passionate over-the-top kiss he started with.

I’m gone, lost in his soft touch, dizzy with the feel of his hands roaming over my bare back and down to my ass where the thin material of my dress feels like nothing between us. A moan escapes my lips when he moves the kiss to my neck and down, down between my breasts. His hands cup my ass lifting me off the ground pressing his solid cock against my core. I gasp when I feel the cold of the glass wall against my back and his hands sliding up my thighs. God, it’s been so long since someone has touched me this way, with tenderness and generosity, giving, pleasuring, worshiping.

“Daddy!” Victoria screams from somewhere far away, and Xander and I freeze. He stops kissing my shoulder and lowers me to the floor.

“Nightmares. I’m sorry, I’ll be back in a minute.” He kisses me quickly, and I watch his sexy backside walk toward a winding staircase that leads to the second floor where I assume their bedrooms are located.

Adjusting my dress back into place, I look around for the closest bathroom. A door off the kitchen catches my eye, and I make my way to it smoothing my hair as I go.

Inside is a full bathroom with a long vanity and mirror that tells the story of the last fifteen minutes with pinpoint accuracy—mascara smeared under my eyes, lip gloss gone, hair disheveled, dress wrinkled, and pride bruised along with my face.

I almost had sex with a man I hardly know. I almost had sex with my boss. I almost had sex with the father of the child I have promised to care for like she’s my own. If Enrique could see me now, he would call me a slut, whore, loser, pathetic, needy, and simple. He was good at controlling me with words and even better at doing it with his fists.

Tears fill my eyes, and I snatch three tissues from the box on the vanity and catch them before they run down my cheeks. I cannot let that man control me now. He is not part of my life anymore. I’m free.

Or am I?

Even here in the privacy of a very handsome, very wealthy man’s home, far away from Enrique and his abusive hands and mouth, he is messing with my head.

There’s a knock at the door. “Sasha? You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine just fixing my hair. I’ll be right out.”

“Okay, hurry, we need to order the pizza.”

“One minute.” I’m pretty sure that’s code for Victoria’s awake, make-out session is over, and that’s fine with me. I need to talk to Xander and tell him I am not comfortable having a relationship while I’m working for him, and I need to do it soon.

I smooth my hair away from my face and over my shoulder so I can put it into a tidy respectable braid. I look at myself in the mirror again and wipe the mascara smudges from my eyes. “There. Good as new,” I say to myself and open the bathroom door.

Victoria is sitting on a bar stool at the island looking a lot like I did a few minutes ago but for totally different reasons. She’s teary-eyed, flushed, and sad. Nightmares, yeah, I know a thing or two about those.

“Hey there, you had a little nap?”

“The scary men came in my sleep. I don’t like them, they make me cry.”

I sit next to her and slide my hand across the marble counter covering hers with mine. “I’m sorry you had a bad dream. I have them sometimes, too. They feel so real you can’t tell if you’re awake or asleep.”

She sits up straight looking at our hands. “You have them, too?” I look at Xander, he’s on the phone by the glass wall ordering pizza, but he’s also listening to our conversation. He pauses his conversation and nods letting me know it’s okay to talk about bad dreams with his daughter.

“I do.”

“With bad men?”

“Just one bad man.”

“What does he do?”

Oh my God. I can’t tell her what goes on in my nightmares, or she’ll never sleep again. “Well, sometimes he just looks scary, and sometimes he yells at me. What do your bad men do?”

She pulls her knees up and hugs them with her arms abandoning my hand for this secure position. I move my hand to her back and rub it up and down, so she knows I’m here for her even if she tries to leave. I know from experience that it helps to know somebody, anybody, cares enough to stay.

“They take me to her.”

I wasn’t expecting that. Maybe she means her mom? “Your mom?”

She nods her head, and tears spring from her eyes. Shit, what did she do to her? Suddenly, all I want is to find that bitch, rip her hair out, and stick my fingers in her eye sockets until she screams.

“Come here, baby,” I say, and that’s all it takes. She’s on my lap straddling my waist crying into the crook of my neck. Oh boy. I thought I knew what I was doing, but now I’m not so sure.

I rub her back and let her cry until Xander joins us. His face is twisted in pain giving me a glimpse into a tortured parent’s world. He loves her so much, and it kills him to see her hurting.

I am way out of my league here. I was struggling to comfort a child, but I have no idea how to help them both at the same time, especially since I only know a handful of random facts about either of them.

“Princess, are you gonna be okay?” he asks bending down to push her hair away from her face. Her sobs subside, and she reaches out to wipe a tear from her father’s cheek.

“Don’t cry, my daddy.”

“Baby, you know I hate seeing you so sad. Let’s sit outside and listen to the ocean. That always makes you feel better, doesn’t it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, come on.” He holds out his arms, and she starts to lean toward him but stops to look at me first.

“You come, too, kay?”

“Okay.” Xander lifts her up, and we go out onto a patio that wraps around the back and one side of the house. It’s so beautiful out here, I could stay forever. A swimming pool is situated along the side of the house, and the rest of the patio faces the ocean with steps that take you to the beach.

I walk to the railing and inhale a deep breath and close my eyes. I love the salty air and the wind and the sound of waves lapping against the shore. “You like the ocean?” Xander asks sitting down on a lounger still holding Victoria.

“I do, it’s my favorite thing in the world.”

“Do you surf or snorkel?”

“Yes, both. I love being in the water.”

“I have a boat, do you like fishing?”

“I’ve never been fishing in the ocean, but I used to fish back home in a lake, and I liked that.”

“You’re not from California?”

“No,” I say, and he stares at me waiting for more of an explanation.

“Is it a secret? Where you’re from?”

“Oh, no, not really. Minneapolis.”

“You’re a long way from home. Did you come here to go to school?”

“No. I never went to college, no money, ya know? I came for the ocean.” That’s not the only reason, but it’s the nicest one.

“You picked up and moved to California alone because you love the ocean?”

“I love the ocean, too,” Victoria interjects.

“Would you move a long way to be near it?” I ask her.

“Uh-huh,” she says nodding her head vigorously.

I gesture toward her. “I rest my case.”

“And you got a job with Macy’s right away?” he asks. He did a full background check on me this afternoon. Either he hasn’t had time to read it, and someone told him I was safe, or he wants to see if what I say matches up.

“Not right away. I stayed with friends for a while.” Another lie.

I turn away from him not wanting to get into that part of my life in front of Victoria. “Daddy, can we show Sasha the beach?”

“Sure, good idea. Are you interested in a walk on the beach?” he asks.

“Yes, I’d love a walk on the beach.”

I’d do anything to get off of this patio and stop talking about my life right now. It just so happens that he’s offering me my favorite thing in the world—the ocean.

Sometimes the ocean is life’s best distraction.