Billionaire's Jet Set Babies & The Nanny Bombshell: Billionaire's Jet Set Babies / The Nanny Bombshell. Michelle CelmerЧитать онлайн книгу.
rechannel the need for perfection her mother had drilled into Alexa from birth. She’d stopped starving herself, eased off searching the art world for flawless beauty and now took comfort from order, from peace.
“Ah—” a smile spread over his face “—you like control. Now that I understand.”
“Who doesn’t like control?” And how many therapy sessions had she spent on that topic?
He looked over at her with an emerald-eyed sexy stare. The air crackled as if a lightning bolt had zipped between them. “Would you like to take over flying the plane?”
“Are you kidding?” She slid her hands under her thighs even though she couldn’t deny to herself just how tempting the offer sounded.
Who wouldn’t want to take a stab at soaring through the air, just her and the wide-open blue rolling out in front of the plane? It would be like driving a car alone for the first time. Pushing an exotic Arabian racehorse to gallop. Happier memories from another lifetime called to her.
“Just take the yoke.”
God, how she wanted to, but there was something in his voice that gave her pause. She couldn’t quite figure out his game. She wasn’t in the position to risk her livelihood or her newfound independence on some guy’s whims.
“Your children are on board.” She knew she sounded prim, but then hey, she was a nanny for the day.
“If it appears you’re about to send us into a nosedive, I’ll take over.”
“Maybe another time.” She leaped up from the seat, not about to get sucked into a false sense of control that wouldn’t last. “I think I hear Olivia.”
His low chuckle followed her all the way back to both peacefully sleeping children.
* * *
Alexa could hear his husky laugh echoing in her ears two hours later as they settled into their luxurious hotel room in St. Augustine, Florida.
She had seen the best of the best lodgings and the Casa Monica—one of the oldest hotels in the United States—was gorgeous by any standards, designed to resemble a castle. The city of St. Augustine itself was rich with history and ornate Spanish architecture, the Casa Monica being a jewel. The hotel had been built in the 1800s, named for St. Monica, the mother of St. Augustine, the city’s namesake.
And here she was with Seth and his babies. She could use a little motherly advice from a patron saint’s mom right now.
She also needed to find some time to touch base with Bethany at work. Even though she was sure Bethany could manage—it had been her company at one time—she really did need to speak with her partner and give Bethany her contact information.
Seth had checked them into one of the penthouse suites, with a walk-out to a turret with views of the city. The suite had two bedrooms connected by a sitting area. The mammoth bath with a circular tub called to her muscles, which ached from working all day then lugging one of the baby carriers around. Then her thoughts went to images of sharing the tub with a man…not just any man…
She turned back to the room, decorated in blue velvet upholstery and heavy brocade curtains. Seth had claimed the spare bedroom, leaving her the larger master with two cribs inside. She trailed her fingers over the handle to Olivia’s car seat on the floor beside the mission style sofa in the sitting room. Olivia’s brother rested in his car seat next to hers.
“Your twins sleep well. They’re making this job too easy, you know.”
“Pippa doesn’t believe in bedtimes. They usually nap hard their first day with me.” Seth strode into the spare bedroom. “Expect mayhem soon enough when they wake up recharged. Owen’s a charmer, so much so it’s easy to miss the mischief he’s plotting. He’s always looking for the best way to stack furniture and climb his way out. You can see where he’s already had stitches through his left eyebrow. As for Olivia, well, keep a close eye on her hands. She loves to collect small things to shove up her nose, in her ears, in her mouth…”
Affection swelled from each word as he detailed his children’s personalities. The man definitely loosened up when around his kids or when he was talking about them. He seemed to know his offspring well. Not what she would have expected from a distant dad. Intrigued, she moved closer.
Through the open door, she could see him drape his suit coat on the foot of the bed. He loosened his tie further and unbuttoned his collar, then worked the buttons free down his shirt.
Alexa backed toward her own room. “Um, what are you doing?”
Seth slipped his still-knotted tie over his head and untucked the shirt. “Owen kicked his shoes against me when I picked him up after we landed.” He pointed to smudges down the left side. “I need to change fast before my meeting.”
His all-important meeting. Right. Seth had told her he was having dinner with a bigwig contact downstairs and she could order whatever she wanted from room service. He would be back in two to three hours. If she could get the kids settled in the tub, she could sit on the side and make some work calls while watching them. Check voice mail and email on her iPhone, deal with the standard million missed calls from her mom before moving on to deal with work. Her staff wasn’t large, just four other employees, including Bethany. Her partner was slowing down, but could hold down the fort. In the event an emergency arose, Bethany would make sure things didn’t reach a boiling point. So she was in the free and clear to spend the night here. With the kids.
And Seth.
She thumbed a smudge from the base of the brass lamp. “Can’t have shoe prints all over you at the big meeting. That’s for sure.”
“Could you look in the hang-up bag and get me another shirt?”
“Right, okay.” She spun away before he undressed further. She charged over to the black suitcase resting on top of a mahogany luggage rack.
Alexa tugged the zipper around and…oh my. The scent of him wafted up from his clothes, which should be impossible since they were clean clothes. But no question about it, the suitcase had captured the essence of him and it was intoxicating.
Her fingers moved along the hangers until she found a plain white shirt mixed in with a surprising amount of colorful others. Mr. Buttoned-up Businessman had a wild side. An unwelcome tingle played along her skin and in her imagination. She slapped the case closed.
Shirt in hand, she turned back to Seth who was now wearing only his pants and a T-shirt. His shoulders stretched the fabric to the limit. Her fingers curled into the shirt in her hands, her fingertips registering Sea Island Cotton, high-end, breathable, known for keeping the wearer’s body cool throughout the day.
Maybe she could use some Sea Island Cotton herself because she was heating up.
Alexa thrust the shirt toward him. “Will this do?”
“Great, thanks.” His knuckles brushed hers as she passed over his clothes as if they were intimately sharing a space.
And more.
Awareness chased up her wrist, her arm, higher still as the intimacy of the moment engulfed her. She was in a gorgeous hotel room, with a hot man and his beautiful children, helping him get dressed. The scene was too wonderful. Too close to what she’d once dreamed of having with her ex.
She jerked back fast. “Any last minute things to tell me about the kids when I order up supper?”
“Owen is allergic to strawberries, but Olivia loves them and if she can get her hands on them, she tries to share them with her brother. So watch that—hotels do the strawberry garnish thing on meals.”
“Anything else?” She tried to pull her eyes away from the nimble glide of his fingers up the buttons on his shirt.
“If you have an emergency, you can contact me at this number.” He grabbed a hotel pen and jotted a string of numbers on the back of a business card. “That’s my private cell line I use