Emil The sight of Dani sprawled on my bed makes my whole body clench. I twist my fingers in her hair, grunting as my other hand curves over her hip, holding her right where I want her. Her voice is ragged, raw as she urges me on. Faster. Harder. I lift her hips up and thrust de eper into the soft, wet heat of her body. She feels like heaven. Her skin is pure silk, warm and smooth under my touch. And when I pull her hair, she gasps, arching her back against me, begging me for more. My name on her tongue sounds sweet as honey— I wake up as my alarm blares in my silent, dark bedroom, sweaty sheets twisted around my body. Slamming my hand on my nightstand, I silence my alarm with a groan. My cock is so hard it hurts. Disentangling myself from my sheets, I can’t help but wrap my hand around the hard length of it—but it’s not my hand I want. Hiring Dani again was a mistake. Dreaming of her is trouble. I’ve woken up to the image of her body splayed open for me every morning since I met her. Finishing myself off is a bad idea, but I do it anyway. I come so hard I see stars. After a long, cold shower and a vow to never do that again, I pad into my daughter’s room. She gives me a sle epy groan, her pink princess blanket tucked high up under her chin. “I don’t want to go to school.” I’ve heard that complaint too many times to count in the past year, but it still makes my lips tug like only Talia can. She loves school; it’s just waking up that bothers her. Lord help me when she turns into a surly teenager. I know why Talia said that, though. It’s because I wake her up for school every day. I drive her to school every day and will continue to do so until she can safely drive herself. It’s the one thing I won’t let anyone else do. Ever. No one drives my children around apart from me. Even with a nanny, I’ll be the one to do it. I’ll be the one to wake my daughter up and drive her where she needs to go. “You don’t have to go to school, princess. It’s summer vacation.” Talia’s eyes fly open, and she jumps up so fast she nearly knocks me back. I grin, planting my hands on my hips while Talia rushes to her closet. “That got you out of bed.” “Dani’s coming today! I need to find an outfit.” Arching a brow, I dodge a few bits of clothing that come flying out of her closet. “I hope you know you’ll be cleaning these clothes up, Talia.” A growl sounds, and Talia’s red face pokes around the closet door, her teeth bared. Sometimes I wonder if my daughter is part animal. Throwing my hands up in defeat, I back out of the room. “I’ll go wake up your brother.” I find Francis already running around the living room, a patient Kathryn calling him over to the kitchen for breakfast. My son gives the older woman a blinding smile, prancing toward her on
surprisingly steady toddler legs. It seems like just yesterday he was a babbling infant. My heart clenches. I’m letting someone into this sanctuary. This life. I’m opening my doors to Dani and allowing her to be near my children. The thought ices my veins, but I know I can’t ke ep doing this alone. My mother has dropped enough hints for me to know she doesn’t appreciate being the constant babysitter service, and Kathryn has enough work ke eping this house tidy as it is. I need Danika. The kids need her. At least until school starts. Frankie will be old enough for preschool then, too. That thought eases some of the tension building in my chest. A summer vacation with a bit of extra help around the house, then I can send Dani away again. A couple of months of resisting this attraction, of ke eping my deviant thoughts and dreams to myself. The penthouse intercom sounds, and Kathryn answers it. She speaks to the security guard, and I know Dani will be here within minutes. I find myself fidgeting with my shirt, smoothing my hair, scrubbing my jaw. Kathryn throws a glance my way, but says nothing. She knows me better than to comment when I’m on edge. Then the door opens, and Dani’s here. Wearing jeans, those same worn-out sneakers with a hole in the toe, and a smart, simple white T-shirt, Dani looks ready to run after the kids. Her long hair is tied up in a high ponytail, the sight of which makes me want to run my fingers through the strands and tug. She gives me a shy smile, hiking her bag a bit higher over her shoulder. “Morning.” “Hello,” a little voice says from behind me. Talia emerges from the hallway wearing a pretty blue dress, her hair brushed—brushed!—and her hands clasped behind her back. Dani’s face splits into a wider grin. She kneels down to get on Talia’s level. “You look particularly lovely this morning, Talia. And I heard you’ve been practicing your fractions.” “Daddy bought pizza last night. I had one eighth of it.” Her smile is blinding, and my heart clenches. Hard. “Lucky girl.” Dani allows Talia to wrap her little arms around her neck. How could my daughter have possibly gotten to the hugging stage with a woman she knew for little more than a couple of hours? Francis comes barreling into them, presenting Dani with a slobbery, half-chewed piece of apple. She acc epts it with a smile, then stands to face me. “Hi,” she says, a faint blush coloring her cheekbones. I give her a terse nod, my eyes dropping to her shoes. “Are those your only shoes?” She nudges her toes together as if to hide the hole in them. “Why?” I frown. Maybe she needs this job more than she let on. “No reason.” I turn to Kathryn. “Do you mind watching the kids for a few minutes? I want to run through a few things with Dani.” “Of course,” she says with a nod. I don’t know how I’d survive without Kathryn. She worked for my family when I was a child and started working for me directly when we first had Talia, managing my household and making sure things always run smoothly. I’ve known her nearly my whole life. When
Callie was alive, I know she leaned on Kathryn heavily. After she died, the older woman seemed to... relax. There were fewer social engagements, fewer guests, more time to spend with the kids. But even she needs help. I know her husband has limited mobility due to a work accident twenty years ago, and even three days here is a lot for her to juggle, not to mention all the extra hours I ask her to work when nannies inevitably don’t work out. Swe eping my arm toward the hallway at the opposite end of the room, I lead Dani through the house, around the corner, and to the room at the very end. My office. She stands on the threshold while I walk inside, bright sunlight streaming through the huge windows. My desk chair groans as I drop into it, the leather creaking under my thighs. I arch my brows at Dani. “Are you going to stand in the doorway for the whole conversation?” “I was told I wasn’t allowed to come in here.” A spark flashes across her eyes. Sassy. I beat down the part of me that likes it. Jerking my head, I grunt. “Come in and close the door.” Dani does as she’s told, and I wonder how far her obedience would go under different circumstances. Then I squeeze my eyes shut and curse myself for thinking that. I definitely shouldn’t have jerked myself off this morning. I should have ignored my throbbing lust and taken a cold shower instead. Sliding an emotionless mask over my features, I pull out her employment contract, a binder full of details about the children, and start running through the rules of the household. Dani listens attentively, her back straight, that damn ponytail sliding over and back along her shoulder every time she nods. When I get to the most important rule, Dani arches her brows. “I can’t drive them anywhere? Ever? Even in an emergency?” “No.” My tone is final. Dani doesn’t seem to hear it. “Why?” Guess her obedience doesn’t go that far after all. “Because I’m their father, and I said so.” “Right. But—” “If you want the job, you’ll follow the rules. You will not get behind the wheel of a car with my children in the vehicle. Understood?” Dani holds my gaze for a few long moments. I can feel the protest bubbling up inside her. I almost want her to voice it, want her to challenge me, to push me on this one issue I haven’t been able to get past. But she just sits back and nods. “Okay. I understand.” “They only get in a car with me behind the wheel.” She bites that lush lower lip, and an overwhelming sense of longing crashes into me. I never got to taste that beautiful mouth at the party. Never even kissed her, even though she gave me so much of her body, made me feel more viscerally than I have in years. But those lips... I’ll never be allowed to taste them. She works for me now. She takes care of my children. She’s off-limits. Forever. When I’ve run through everything I require from her, we both stand. I walk around the desk and catch a whisper of her scent. I nearly trip over my own feet as my heart stutters, blood rushing down somewhere lower. This— whatever this is—will have to stop. I need to get my body under control again.
Dani seems to be having the same problem. When I get a st ep closer, she trips over her own feet and falls right into my chest. Instinctively, my arms wrap around her. I clutch her to me, unable to ignore how right it feels to have her pressed up against my body. My hands trail across her back as her breath hitches, the pulse thundering in her throat. Holding her elbows as she steadies herself, I find myself staring into those dark, bottomless eyes. Her scent is everywhere. The heat of her body soaks into mine as she stands so close to me I can feel the press of her breasts against my chest. Breasts I had in my mouth not too long ago. She lifts her eyes to mine, her tongue sliding out to lick that sinful bottom lip. Warm breath washes across my neck, sending shivers tripping down my spine. I want this woman. I want her in a way that twists me up, desire stemming from somewhere de eper, more primal, than I’ve ever felt before. And judging by the shallow, raking breaths she’s drawing in, the crush of her body against mine, the trembling of her lower lip— She wants me too.