Nanny for the Don: Chapter 2
Nanny for the Don: An Age Gap, Billionaire Romance (Silver Fox Daddies)
A blast of cold water shocks me back to my senses, a harsh contrast to the heat that had me unwinding just a minute ago.
I shut off the water and reach for a towel, jaw clenched, mind replaying the scene that just unfolded in my head. The slight shift in the bath curtains, the closed door, the faint scent of lavender that wasnât mineâsmall details that add up now, with Willowâs face fresh in my mind.
How the hell did I miss that someone had been in here? The last time Iâd been that distracted was⦠never. It was a rookie mistake, and I donât make rookie mistakes. Yet here I am, towel around my waist, glaring at the shower curtain as if it has answers.
I wrap the towel tighter and stride back into the bedroom, forcing myself to shake off the irritation. The snow falls gently outside my window, a deceptive calm settling over the city. But tonight is anything but calm. Thereâs work to be done, and Iâll be extracting answers from the men who think silence can shield them. Itâll be the kind of night that calls for focus, clarity, and not an ounce of distraction.
Just as Iâm getting my head back in the game, a knock at my door pulls me out of it. I pause, irritation flaring, but a sliver of curiosity edges in, too. I walk over, grip the handle, and open it, and there she isâthe woman Iâd just pictured in ways I shouldnât be thinking about my employees.
âHi.â Her voice is soft, almost unsure, and thereâs a slight shiver to her, like sheâd been gathering up the courage just to knock.
Sheâs wearing nothing but a loose sleep shirt and a pair of shorts that hug her legs, long and toned in a way I hadnât fully appreciated until now. In the dim hallway light, sheâs beautiful, almost ethereal, like a strange dream I hadnât planned on walking right into. And sheâs not wearing a bra, which makes the situation more awkwardâand yet, I canât look away.
âHi,â I respond, leaning casually against the door frame, trying not to let on how my mind is replaying the scene from the shower in the harshest detail.
She clears her throat. âIâm Willow, the new nanny.â Her eyes dart over my chest, lingering on the tattoos, the scars, like sheâs studying something unexpected.
âI know who you are,â I say, my voice a bit harder than I intend. Her shoulders stiffen, and I catch the flicker of nerves in her expression.
âIâm sorry to bother you,â she begins, already shifting on her feet.
âWhat do you need, Willow?â I donât mean for my tone to sound so direct, but the edge is there, part irritation, part curiosity. I want to know exactly why sheâs standing here, fresh out of the memory of my shower, looking at me like this.
She takes a deep breath. âI⦠I took a bath in your tub earlier,â she admits, her voice barely a whisper. âAnd I left the iPad for the baby monitor in your bathroom. I know the girls sometimes wander at night, and I didnât want to risk them being unsupervised⦠even if it meant coming here.â
Her cheeks turn pink, and she quickly adds, âIf Iâve overstepped, I completely understand, and Iâll pack my things and leave first thing in the morning.â
She stands there, a nervous tension visible in every line of her face, clearly bracing herself for a reprimand. And sheâs rightâshe did cross a line. But sheâs here, owning up to it, something I donât often see in people who work for me. And hell, sheâs not just any nanny, clearly.
âWait here,â I say, turning on my heel to head back to the bathroom. I yank back the curtain and there it is, resting on the tubâs edge just like she said. I pick up the iPad, press the screen, and the baby monitor app lights up, showing my daughtersâ peaceful, sleeping faces. Relief eases the last bit of tension in my chest, but thereâs an edge of irritation, tooâhow had I missed this?
I had been so⦠distracted that I didnât notice. That was a mistake, and I donât let my guard down. Not ever. Pushing down the annoyance, I stride back out to find Willow waiting, her shoulders stiff, her eyes wide with anticipation.
I hold out the iPad to her. âHere,â I say, watching as she reaches out, almost hesitant.
Her fingers curl around it, and I can see her relief, though she tries to mask it. âIâm really sorry,â she says, stumbling over her words. âI was exhausted, and my bathroom only has a shower, and I thoughtâ¦â She stops herself, realizing sheâs rambling. Itâs strangely endearing.
I canât help the smirk that forms, though I school it quickly. She catches the expression and visibly tenses, expecting the worst, as if Iâm about to explode and fire her on the spot.
âRelax,â I say, holding up a hand. âIâm not going to fire you.â I let out a breath. âOlivia gave you high marks for today, and Iâm not in the habit of letting go of good nannies for a simple mistake.â
She looks like she might collapse in relief, and itâs almost amusing, the way her entire posture relaxes as she takes a shaky breath. I lean against the door frame, crossing my arms, and I donât miss the way her eyes flick to my arms and chest.
âYou know,â I continue, enjoying the flush on her cheeks, âIâm a little impressed. Not only did you have the guts to sneak into your bossâs bathroom, but you were willing to own up to it because you wanted to make sure you did your job right.â
She blushes deeper, her innocence and nerves both ridiculously appealing. I donât miss how her gaze shifts, her lips parting slightly. Itâs both a bit naive and a bit bold, and hell, I canât remember the last time I felt this drawn to someone so different from my world.
âYouâre serious?â she asks, voice barely above a whisper.
âYes. But thereâs one condition.â I hold up a finger.
She nods, eager. âAnything.â
âTotal honesty from here on out,â I say, meeting her gaze directly. âIn my world, trust is rare, and Iâd like to keep things straight between us. My daughters⦠they tend to stretch the truth when theyâre in trouble. If I can at least count on you to be upfront, thatâs one less thing to worry about.â
Relief, mixed with determination, flashes in her eyes. âAbsolutely. Nothing but the truth from here on out.â
âGood.â I give her a nod. âThen weâll be fine.â
Her face lights up in a small, shy smile. âThank you. Really. Not just for letting this slide, but for giving me a chance with your girls. Theyâre amazing, and Iâm going to make sure you donât regret hiring me.â
âSee that you donât.â
We stand there for a moment, and thereâs a charged energy lingering between us, the memory of earlier still fresh in my mind. Her eyes drop slightly, as though sheâs only just realized how close weâre standing.
âIâm sorry again about the tub. And⦠it was nice to officially meet you.â She gives me a small, tentative smile. âGood night, Mr. Conti.â
Before she turns away, I reach out, my hand finding her arm, a gentle but intentional touch that stops her. Her breath catches, and I can feel the tension, the ripple of awareness between us as her gaze locks onto mine.
âYouâre welcome to use the tub,â I tell her, my voice dropping just enough to let her know I mean it. âWhen Iâm not home. Which is often.â
She nods, her eyes lighting up. âThank you. Thatâs⦠really generous of you.â
âGood night, Willow,â I say, letting my hand drop.
She nods, turning to leave, and this time, I let my gaze follow her down the hall, watching the subtle sway of her hips as she disappears into the darkness.