The odd nanny I’ve somehow been assigned walks back into my office—dirty blond hair in a tight bun, glasses I want to pluck off her face, nervous hands clamped in front of her. She really is a creature of beauty if you don’t count the look of terror on her face. “You called me, sir?”

“What is this?” I point to the other half of the baby monitor sitting on the corner of my desk.

“A baby monitor?” She winces.

“That’s right. And what does a baby monitor do?”

“Lets you hear everything being said in the next room?” She cringes.

“Everything being said,” I stress. “And every cry coming from the baby. Miss Frasier, did the agency let you know how much I’ll be paying you for your services?”

“Yes, but I—”

“I’m not finished.” I cut her off. I’m the employer here, and so far, she’s the incompetent caretaker who needs to be quiet while I’m scolding her. “Good, because for the amount you’re being paid, I expected someone qualified, and so far, I’m not seeing that.”

“It’s just that—”

“Such as right now, Liam is crying yet you came in without him,” I tell her, tapping on my desk. I’m trying desperately not to be annoyed with her. After all, she’s new and everyone’s allowed to have a first crappy day, but so far, the challenges haven’t been too steep.

“I’ll go get him.” She scuttles off, but I call her back.

“Miss Frasier?”

She turns around.

Fuck. The young woman before me really is beautiful. I bet if I pulled that golden hair out of that bun, it would spill all over her shoulders. Her body is banging curvy, and there’s even a little bit of belly on her, which I don’t mind at all. It’s sexy. I bet she’d be soft and sweet to the touch. Even seeing her so flustered is sexy.

My cock stiffens imagining her nude in front of me.

I shake off the thoughts before I pitch a fucking tent in my pants.

“I told you the nursery has everything you need, including a bottle warmer. If you could place Liam’s bottle inside and turn it to this mystifying setting called ‘WARM,’ you might achieve your results.” I hate to be a sarcastic bastard, but seriously, this isn’t rocket science. “You could also hold my son, so his screaming doesn’t distract me from the conference call I’m about to have in ten seconds.”

“Yes, sir. That’s what I’m trying to do…”

“Oh, and Miss Frasier?”

Clearly agitated, she pauses at the door, glancing at me with worry in her big, hazel eyes.

“Degree in finance?” I ask.

She holds one finger up. “Sir, I’ll be right back to explain.” To her credit, she runs off to get Liam despite leaving me hanging, and I hear the beeps of the phone call starting.

“Kase here,” I speak into the headphones speaker. “Everyone get started. I’ll jump in in a second.” Putting the call on mute, I get up from my seat and head to the connecting door. Miss Frasier appears with Liam. My heart squeezes every time I see that kid and his big blue eyes just like his mother’s—my best friend, Evie.

Too bad I’m not Liam’s father.

When Evie and I first met, I was new at Newfound Ad Agency, and they began sending me to industry events around town. Despite she and I hitting it off right away and her being absolutely gorgeous, we never slept together. I’ve made it a rule all my life not to get involved with women. In bed, sure, but that’s it. Once and twice, and they’re out. Except for Evie. Evie got to friend status. Soon, best friend status.

One night, she came to my door crying, telling me how the asshole who she’d been dating had impregnated her and wanted nothing to do with her. She cried so fucking hard, I couldn’t let her leave until I’d made a promise. I told her it would all be okay, and at that moment, I absorbed her problems as my own. Before the sun came up that morning, I’d promised my life away. To pretend to be the baby’s father. To pretend that we were in love so her douche-y, ailing, billionaire motherfucker dad wouldn’t think she was having a child out of wedlock.

I signed my life away. Signed it with a kiss to her cheek.

The only real kiss Evie and I had was on our fake wedding day.

The façade was only meant to fool her father long enough until his death, since the old man’s been sick for a long time. Nobody expected Evie to die of a brain aneurysm instead. Now, her six-month-old is in my care a month after her death, and no one knows I’m not his actual father. Least of all Liam.

And now, seeing Miss Frasier holding the baby, trying to soothe him, I see a little bit of Evie in her. Not ready to be a mother, just like Miss Frasier is clearly not ready to be a nanny. Something inside of me hurts for her. She looks so vulnerable standing there. I’ve tried my fucking best to stay away from women except to satisfy my urges. One, because I lost my mother in college, and two, because I lost my best friend—the only two women I’ve ever loved.

Yet, I can’t tear my eyes away from Alana Frasier. Can’t retreat into hardass mode, because there’s something about this young woman. Still, I can’t afford to figure it out. I have to keep far, far away from her.

I scoop the baby out of her hands and force my eyes to Liam’s face. “Hey, buddy.” I wipe the tears from his cheeks and bounce him around a bit until he quiets. “Listen, I’m about to have a meeting, so I’m going to need you to go down for your nap, okay?” As if to make my point, I push his blonde head onto my shoulder. “See? Sleep.”

Liam takes my cue and sticks his tiny thumb into his mouth to suck on it. So stinkin’ cute. His sobs ebb then flow, then ebb again, until he sighs against my chest. If only Evie could see him.

“Thank you for showing me,” Miss Frasier says meekly. “I can take over now.”

“Finance, Miss Frasier?” I reply.

She looks up at me. Those eyes. “I…I graduated with top honors in finance, but I come from a family familiar with childcare, Mr. Hardwin. I assure you.”

“You sure about that? Because you look more clueless than the time our mail guy entered the ladies’ bathroom looking for the mail room.” Before Liam can get too comfortable, I hand him over to Miss Frasier. “Here. Just hold him like that, with his head against your chest. Sing if you have to, or hum. He likes humming. I’ll check on you after the conference call.”

Miss Frasier looks like she has more to say, but I start closing the door. “I can handle this, Mr. Hardwin,” she says anyway. “Rest assured, I got this.”

“We’ll see.” I smirk, as Miss Frasier copies my hold on Liam and bounces him the same way I bounced him. Okay, not bad. She can learn. Maybe it’s first day jitters after all. As much as I would have fired her by now under normal circumstances, something about her isn’t normal. Something about her feels off the charts.

Benefit of the doubt creeps in. Finance degree. “I got this,” she said. I like her determination to succeed, even as Liam’s cries pick up again.

“Shh, shh, Liam. Let your daddy work. Let’s talk about this nap thing, shall we?”

As she closes the door, I shake my head. Craziness. Pure craziness. Not only did my fake wife pass away, but her child is now my son by default, and I don’t even have the time to care for him, as much as I want to—because who wouldn’t? He’s a cute kid. But I have a company to run. Newfound Ad Agency has always been my top priority, which is why I get paid millions to run it. I don’t do relationships, I don’t do love, and I especially don’t do fatherhood.

But I do do promises.

And my last promise was to Evie saying that I’d take care of her and Liam until her father died. But life’s full of surprises, isn’t it? A year ago, I’d just learned that Evie was pregnant, and a year later…I have a son. I have to see it through, raise him, and do my fucking best to be his dad, since his real dad was nothing but a sperm donor.

Clicking back onto the phone call, I announce my arrival and listen in. But it’s hard to concentrate. Because the video monitor in front of me displays the woman in the next room, holding Evie’s child, doing her best to get him to fall asleep. I’m filled with a strange urge to ditch the call and go in there. Find out more about her. Smell her skin, her hair, see what her breasts feel like in the palms of my hands, sink down between her legs.

I’d be fine if it were only a physical response.

But I want to talk to her, too. Find out why the finance-turned-nanny.

She’s tantalizing with those wide, innocent eyes. Fresh out of college and starting out in the world. I don’t know why, but I find myself wanting to show her things, tell her about life, teach her, take her under my wing, but there’s no fucking way. I don’t have time for interns, and I don’t have time for feelings.

My plate is full enough as it is.

Still, I can’t stop staring at her in the video monitor. Once Liam is down for the count, she leans back against the counter, pulls down her hair, and I catch those long tresses spilling over her slender shoulders. Just as quickly as they come down, she ties them back up, re-knots the bun, and straightens her glasses.

A smile threatens to break through my face. Miss Frasier is one of those women who has no idea how gorgeous she is. She might have an idea, but she doesn’t. Not really. She hasn’t learned the powers of her feminine ways yet, and I’m willing to bet that’s because no man has pulled it out of her.

You can’t be that man, Kase.

She’s hired help—nothing more, nothing less.

Despite the fact that I’m still on a call, Miss Frasier pokes her head through the door again. “He’s asleep,” she whispers.

I put the call on mute again. “Thanks. Get me some coffee now, would you please? Cream, no sugar.” I unmute the call. “When can I get those reports, Price?” At the door, Alana is giving me a strange look. I mute the call one more time. “Problem?”

“I just…” She scoffs, shakes her head, as if contemplating whether or not to speak her mind. “That’s not my job, Mr. Hardwin. I’m sure you have a secretary for that, don’t you?”

A-ha. Spunky attitude. Even hotter than she was a minute ago. “You’re right, but I did your job of quieting the baby for you, didn’t I? So now you owe me for using my time to teach you how to do your job. Actually, one sugar would be great. Thanks.”

I unmute the call again.

Miss Frasier looks like she’d rather be anywhere than here. I don’t get it. Most people are excited to start their new jobs, and I would’ve imagined a young nanny to be bright and peppy, happy to be holding babies. Instead, Miss Frasier looks like she hates this job and hates me.

I mute the call again. “You’re still here. How interesting.”

“I’m trying to figure out if you’re serious or not.”

“I’m dead serious.”

“I’ll get you your coffee, Mr. Hardwin, but from now on, I’d like to focus solely on caring for your son, if that’s alright by you. I also think that bringing him to work is a bad idea. He needs to be home in a loving environment, not in a conference room turned nursery.” Her lip trembles, and I see her fingers quivering until she holds them all together.

“I don’t pay to hear your opinions, Miss Frasier, but since we’re on the topic…tomorrow we’ll move the arrangement to my home. You’ll work there, sleep there, eat there full time. You look like you need the job, or else you wouldn’t be here. But I warn you, if I have to teach you how to do your job, then you have to be flexible and acquiesce to anything I need…”

Anything.

The danger of my own words filter through the room, across the space between us, and into her consciousness. Glassy eyes widen just a notch, and her body…those luscious round tits…perk up inside her blouse. No denying it. Her nipples harden at my words, just like my cock hardens inside my pants. What the fuck is going on?

I want this woman.

I want her so fucking bad, and I just did the worst thing I could do.

I invited her into my home.

“Are we clear?”

Slowly, she nods. “Understood, sir.”