Nanny for the Don: Chapter 4

‘We’ll discuss this later.’

Those had been Ms. M’s words after seeing the destruction in the kitchen. After making sure the fire was out and confirming the girls and the house were safe, she’d left it at that.

Now I’m sitting in the den, trying to shake off the nerves while the twins enjoy their allotted hour of TV time before dinner. They’re watching Bluey, totally engrossed in the antics of the Heeler family, while I’m over here trying not to freak out about the conversation I know is coming.

Thank God Mr. Conti has staff to handle lunch and dinner, so I don’t have to deal with the kitchen disaster zone any more than necessary. Tomorrow, I’m sticking to cereal and OJ—no fires, no explosions, just good ol’ breakfast simplicity.

Speaking of Mr. Conti, he hasn’t shown up at all since this morning. I can’t help but wonder how much time he actually gets to spend with his girls, considering his crazy work schedule. I mean, what’s the point of having this gorgeous house and adorable kids if you’re never around to enjoy them?

Just as I’m lost in thought, Ms. M enters the room, her expression unreadable. “Dinner’s ready,” she announces, her tone neutral.

I gulp, feeling the anxiety creep back in. I plaster on a smile and get up, mentally preparing myself for whatever Ms. M has in store.

“Alright, ladies, it’s chow time!” I say, flicking off the TV. The girls give me matching pouty faces, clearly bummed that Bluey time is over, but they’re quick to bounce back at the mention of food.

We head to the kitchen instead of the massive, fancy dining room that looks like it’s straight out of a magazine but never seems to get used. The girls plop down at the little table, legs swinging as they settle in.

The private chef, a tall woman in her late thirties with sleek black hair pulled into a tight ponytail and an air of effortless elegance, greets us with a warm smile.

“Tonight, we have lemon herb chicken with a side of three-cheese mac and cheese, and roasted asparagus,” she announces, her voice smooth and professional. She moves around the kitchen with the grace of someone who’s done this a million times.

Giulia tilts her head up at the chef, her big eyes full of hope. “Can we have nuggets instead?” she asks in the sweetest, most innocent voice.

The chef chuckles softly but shakes her head. “Not tonight, sweetie. Maybe another time.”

The girls sigh, but they don’t protest too much. As we all start to eat, I can feel Ms. M’s gaze on me, still not thrilled about the earlier kitchen chaos.

Thankfully, the girls immediately dive into conversation, their little voices full of excitement.

“Ms. M!” Giulia chirps, her fork waving in the air as she talks. “Did you know we saw a squirrel today? It was soooo fluffy!”

Lucia jumps in, not to be outdone. “And it had a big, bushy tail! It was bigger than my arm!”

Ms. M, still holding onto her stern look, softens a bit. “Oh really? And what was this squirrel doing?”

“It was eating a nut!” Giulia says, her eyes wide with the drama of it all. “And then it ran up the tree so fast, like zoom!” She makes a zooming motion with her hand, nearly knocking over her water glass.

Ms. M catches the glass just in time. “That does sound exciting.”

Lucia nods eagerly. “And then we tried to find more squirrels, but they were all hiding. Do you think they were playing hide-and-seek?”

Ms. M’s expression softens even more. “Maybe they were. Squirrels can be very sneaky like that. Not to mention, it’s winter. Squirrels usually stay hidden during this time of year – you’re lucky you saw even one.”

The girls giggle, clearly pleased with this idea. “Next time, we’ll bring them nuts, so they come out and play with us!” Giulia declares.

By this point, Ms. M is definitely smiling, and I can see the tension from earlier melting away. I can’t help but feel relieved as I watch the girls work their magic.

Maybe I’ll survive today after all.

When dinner’s over, I get the girls to bring their plates to the counter. “Good job, ladies,” I say, giving them a thumbs-up. They beam at me, proud of their small but important contribution.

Ms. M steps in. “The staff will handle the rest of the cleanup,” she says, her tone professional but not unkind..”

“Got it. Thanks,” I say, turning to the girls. “Alright, let’s head upstairs and get ready for bed.”

The girls scamper off, but just as I’m about to follow, Ms. M stops me with a gentle but firm hand on my shoulder. My blood runs cold, and my mind races.

This is it.

Ms. M gives me a steady look. “The safety of the girls and the house isn’t something to take lightly.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “I know. I’m really sorry about what happened. I’ll do better.”

But then she surprises me. “That being said, you did a great job with the girls today. They’re happy, and they had a good day. That counts for a lot.”

Relief floods through me, and I let out a breath. “Thank you, Ms. M. I really appreciate that.”

She gives me a small, approving nod. “Just be aware that Mr. Conti will want to discuss the matter with you.”

My stomach twists a little at the thought, but I nod again. “I understand.”

I head upstairs to join the girls, feeling a lot better than I did just a few minutes ago.

Getting the girls ready for bed this time is a breeze. They’re worn out from the day’s excitement, so the whole process goes like clockwork. I help them into their pajamas, get them to brush their teeth, and then settle down with them for a couple of bedtime stories. They’re so wiped they’re both out cold before I even finish the second book.

With the girls tucked in and the house quiet, I realize it’s still pretty early. The night is mine, and I’m already thinking about how to spend it. Grabbing the iPad with the monitor, I step into the hall and, half-jokingly, think about how nice it would be to take another soak in Mr. Conti’s massive tub. But then I remember the kitchen fiasco and decide maybe I should keep a lower profile tonight.

I also notice Mr. Conti still isn’t back. He’s been gone all day. I wonder if this is normal for him, being away from the girls so much. It’s kind of sad, actually.

As I wander down the hall, I spot the library, a stunning room with cozy sitting areas and shelves packed with books. It looks like the perfect spot to unwind. I step inside, running my fingers along the spines of the books, when Ms. M suddenly appears, almost. It’s like she’s materialized out of thin air.

“You’re more than welcome to use the library, Willow,” she says, her tone neutral. “Just make sure to put everything back where you found it.”

“Thanks, Ms. M,” I reply, trying to keep my excitement in check.. She nods and walks off, leaving me to hurry inside and explore my new favorite room.

I instantly fall in love with the place. It’s like stepping into a scene from one of those old-school, cozy movies. There are several big, high-backed chairs that look like they were made to curl up in with a good book. Off to the side, there’s a kid’s reading area with an adult-sized chair and the cutest little couch for the twins, perfectly matching and just their size. It’s like something out of a storybook.

The towering windows overlook the garden, the soft glow of the outdoor lights illuminating the snowy landscape. And the fireplace! I find the switch and turn it on, watching as the flames flicker to life, instantly filling the room with a warm, inviting glow. The cozy warmth is exactly what I need after the day I’ve had.

I wonder if Mr. Conti is a big reader. The collection is impressive, but does he ever have the time to actually sit down and enjoy these? Or is this just another part of his life that he barely gets to experience?

Standing in the library, I can’t help it—my mind goes straight to the gutter. I imagine Mr. Conti, with those big, strong hands, pushing me down onto the reading table, spreading my legs wide, and pounding into me so hard the books might fall off the shelves.

My thoughts get even filthier—now I’m riding him in one of these big, overstuffed chairs, grinding down on him as he grabs my waist, guiding me into a rhythm that’s downright sinful.

And then, the pièce de resistance: himNext, I imagine him on top of me in front of the fireplace, flames flickering on the walls as he takes me with an intensity that leaves me breathless.

I’m so insanely horny right now, I can barely stand it.

Trashy fantasies for a virgin! I scold myself, trying to shake off the heat burning through me.

I take a deep breath and force myself to focus. I need a damn book to get my mind out of the garbage. Scanning the shelves, I finally grab The Girl with a Clock for a Heart. A modern mystery— pPerfect. This should be enough to cool me down.

I sink into one of the plush leather chairs, hoping the dark, twisted plot will drown out the dirty thoughts swirling in my head. But as I open the book and start reading, the heat between my legs lingers, teasing me like a memory I can’t shake.

I get lost in the book, letting the words pull me in, the flicker of firelight from the fireplace dancing on the pages, and the steady ticking of the grandfather clock grounding me in this cozy, quiet moment. It’s almost enough to forget my dirty thoughts.

I’m so invested in the book that when I hear a voice calling my name, I nearly jump out of my skin.

“Willow?”

My heart races as I look up, and there he is, the man himself, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the door frame in that effortlessly casual, yet ridiculously sexy way he did last night. The same pose that made me wish he’d just lose control and take me right there.

Mr. Conti’s dressed in slacks and dress shoes, with a crisp white button-up that clings to his chest just right, and those damn sleeves are rolled up, showing off his gorgeous forearms.

I can’t help but stare, my mind going straight to the gutter again, imagining those hands on me. I’m getting so horny just looking at him, and I can feel my face heating. Then I glance down and realize, to my absolute horror, that I’m sitting here in nothing but my little sleep shorts and a skimpy tank top. No bra. Again.

My nipples are hard, probably visible through the thin fabric, and I know he’s noticed. Shit. I try to casually cross my arms over my chest, but it’s too late—his eyes have already swept over me, lingering just long enough to make my heart pound even harder..

I spring up like a freaking jack-in-the-box, the book flying out of my lap as my eyes go wide. “Uh, I wasn’t quite ready for bed,” I stammer, trying to sound casual. “Just wanted to grab a book. I’ll take it upstairs to my room.”

Mr. Conti raises a hand, cutting off my rambling. “Hold on, Willow.”

His voice is calm, but his eyes slowly sweep over me, taking in every inch of my barely there outfit.

My face is hot, and I know I’m blushing like crazy. But more than that, I’m getting so damn turned on by the way he’s looking at me, like I’m the only thing in the room worth noticing. My pussy clenches, and I swear I can feel myself soaking through my panties.

“You can stay in the library if you want,” he says, his voice smooth and inviting. “But first, tell me about the incident in the kitchen.”

Damn.

Of course, he’d bring that up. Just when I thought I might survive this encounter without completely embarrassing myself. My mind races, trying to come up with something, anything that doesn’t make me look like a total idiot.

But with him standing there, looking all sexy and intense, it’s a miracle I even remember how to speak.