The Billionaire And The Nanny Read online

  Table of Contents

  The Billionaire and the Nanny (Book Four)

  The Billionaire and the Nanny (Book Four) by Paige North

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  NOTE

  Want To Be In The Know?

  Alana

  Kase

  Bonus Content: The Billionaire’s Baby by Paige North

  Jessa

  Cole

  Lucy

  The Billionaire and the Nanny (Book Four)

  Paige North

  Favor Ford Publishing

  Copyright © 2018 by Favor Ford Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  NOTE

  Want To Be In The Know?

  The Billionaire and the Nanny (Book Four) by Paige North

  1. Alana

  2. Kase

  3. Alana

  4. Kase

  5. Alana

  6. Kase

  7. Alana

  8. Kase

  9. Alana

  10. Kase

  11. Alana

  12. Kase

  13. Alana

  14. Kase

  15. Alana

  16. Kase

  17. Alana

  18. Kase

  19. Alana

  20. Kase

  21. Alana

  22. Kase

  Epilogue

  Bonus Content: The Billionaire’s Baby by Paige North

  1. Jessa

  2. Cole

  3. Jessa

  4. Cole

  5. Jessa

  6. Cole

  7. Lucy

  8. Cole

  9. Jessa

  10. Cole

  11. Jessa

  12. Cole

  13. Jessa

  14. Cole

  15. Jessa

  16. Cole

  17. Jessa

  18. Cole

  19. Jessa

  20. Cole

  21. Jessa

  Epilogue

  NOTE

  This edition of The Billionaire And The Nanny (Book Four) contains the following bonus content: The Billionaire’s Baby by Paige North.

  Want To Be In The Know?

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  The Billionaire and the Nanny (Book Four) by Paige North

  Alana

  I can’t believe this is happening.

  I’m about to start a nanny job, of all things, for an elite, upper-crust member of NYC’s high society. When I thought I’d gotten away from a life of servitude for good. When I thought I’d wedged my way into a better life.

  How in the fresh hell did everything go so wrong?

  Staring at the high-rise on the corner of Fifth and 48th, freezing my butt off in the minutes before I’m scheduled to start, I wish I could press the Reset Button on my life. I wish the stupid stock market would’ve never crashed. Never would’ve taken my job. My real job, not this nannying-position-gig-thing.

  Which will be temporary, God help me.

  I swore I’d never, ever be “hired help” ever again. As a kid, I had no choice then—my parents worked for the Holland Estate in upstate NY. We lived on their property, so I had to watch as my parents wiped their snooty kids’ noses, cleaned their dirty kitchens, and did all the other jobs nobody ever wants to do for people who don’t care about them.

  But it didn’t have to be my choice when I grew up.

  I went to Cornell School of Finance on a full scholarship, graduated summa cum laude. A month later, I landed a job with the Lodwick Brothers, the prestigious global bank, the kind of company where people dream of working. It all fell flat when a month later, my fast track to success and wealth came to a screeching halt. Lodwick Brothers had collapsed from financial mismanagement, their employees all left without a job, security, or anything to hold onto.

  This, after I put a sizeable down payment on an apartment on the upper west side.

  A week before I was set to start working.

  And now I have no money.

  Yay, me!

  Luckily, my parents’ new bosses are part-owners of Le Nanny, so they were “kind enough” to set me up with a nanny job, even though I’ve never babysat a kid in my life. Not to worry, they told me. They’d vouch for me and my abilities.

  So here I am, about to meet Kase Hardwin, millionaire ad agency guy, who apparently doesn’t want to care for his own offspring full-time, despite bringing the child into this world.

  Why do people have babies again? Le Sigh.

  It’s only temporary, Alana. A few months, tops. Until you get a job in your actual field.

  No point in standing here hating what my life has become, so I push through the revolving doors and enter the warmth of East River 1, determined to make the best of this most shitty situation. How hard can it be? You wipe a few butts, change a few diapers… Maternal instinct will kick in even though I’m only twenty-one. It’ll all be fine!

  The concierge stands and nods at me. “May I help you?”

  “Hi, Alana Frasier here to see Mr. Hardwin with the Newfound Ad Agency?”

  “Ah, yes, Miss Frasier. He’s expecting you.” The graying man reaches behind his desk, almost surely to press a button.

  “Thank you.” I walk past the concierge and enter the elevator. As the glass enclosure closes and shoots up the tube, my heart rises in my throat. Whether it’s the speed of the elevator or my nerves making me feel sick, I’m not sure.

  You can do this. You graduated Cornell, for God’s sake.

  I’m not lower-level people. I’m middle-class people, and I made sure to get a middle-class start in life so I can work my way up. I know being a nanny shouldn’t feel like a slap in the face to me, but it is considering how hard I worked not to end up like my parents.

  I take a deep breath, and the doors open.

  The Newfound Ad Agency takes up the entire twenty-fifth floor, probably more, and as I step out, I watch people bustling, heels click-clacking on shiny floors, and well-dressed men and women having professional discussions about professional things. There’s hubbub, energy, excitement. Exactly why I wanted to work at Lodwick Brothers, except…

  I’m the hired help.

  Dressed in the first-day boring outfit of black skirt and white top that Le Nanny suggested, my hair in a bun, and sensible shoes on my feet, I could not feel any crappier about myself. I’m back to nothing. Square One all over again. I almost turn around and climb right back into the elevator, determined to figure out another way to fix my life when I spot him…

  Coming at me.

  Walking the runway at Fashion Week - Milan.

  Wearing a finely-tailored gray suit, he strides toward me. All man. All height and hair and intense dark eyes. No smiles, no warmth, no bullshit. Just a finely-assembled man on a mission to meet his new employee at the door. When he stops, a cloud of deliciousness wafts over me.

  “Miss Frasier, I’m Kase Hardwin.” He reaches the spot where I stand sinking into the floor. He takes in my entire body with one visual scan, turns on his heels without shaking my hand, and I literally die. Because I’m not naked. But Kase Hardwin makes me feel stripped down to my lady bits, hardening nipples and all. “Follow me, please.”

  I have to catch my breath. And wrap my arms around my torso. And calm the hell down. Holy shit, I feel like everyone is staring at my schoolgirl reaction, but how can I not react this way? That R
oman god statue stuffed into perfectly-fitted pants is…Kase Hardwin? The man who hired me to care for his child?

  Someone somewhere giggles at my suffering.

  Ignoring the whispers, I follow the man down a long hallway, trying to conjure up the right words for that moment when I will inevitably make a fool of myself. Nobody told me my boss would look this way or make my stomach quiver into melted mush. We enter an expansive office with more angles than curves, more shadows than light, more coldness than warmth.

  Wait.

  Is that a playpen?

  Kase walks up to the rectangular corral, picks up a tiny human pumping his little arms and legs, and holds him close to his chest. With a kiss to the little guy’s rosy cheek, he hugs the baby in the most loving way imaginable. My heart immediately melts into puddles of awww. Well, what do you know? I misjudged this man. Took him for a soulless bastard, but look at him being all Dream Dad.

  “Miss Frasier, this is my son, Liam.” Kase regards his son with a touch of sadness in the corners of his eyes. But why is the baby here? Shouldn’t he be at home? I thought I was coming here to get the talking-to, then go to his house and begin work.

  “He’s adorable,” I say, approaching with a smile.

  But Liam draws into his father, resting his face against Kase’s chest, and Kase looks like he has no intention of handing him over to me. “He’s without a mother.”

  “Oh.”

  “She died of a brain aneurysm a few months after giving birth.”

  “Oh, my goodness. I am so sorry to hear that.” His wife died?? Why couldn’t Le Nanny clue me in on this, so I don’t look as shocked as I feel? That is the saddest thing I have ever heard. “How old is he now?”

  “Six months.”

  “This must be so hard on you,” I say. “Having the baby at the office with you and all…”

  “Only because I’m overloaded with work. Not because of him.”

  “Of course not.” I mean, he’s his son. He wouldn’t exactly suggest his son is a burden, would he?

  Kase sighs. “I don’t want a nanny—I need a nanny. If I could, I’d take care of Liam full-time, but it’s just not possible. I had no idea…” He pauses, bounces the baby a bit, then looks out the window at something I can’t quite follow.

  “No idea?”

  “Nothing.” He sighs again, and I sense his pain. Life had other plans for him instead of his own. I could not empathize more.

  Suddenly I’m filled with sadness for this man. Here he is, standing in his cold office, looking lost, holding a motherless child, undoubtedly thinking about his wife who perished right as their life was just getting started.

  I feel something else, too…like I shouldn’t be witnessing such an intimate moment, like the two of them should be dancing and humming to some quiet lullaby while outside, rain threatens to dampen the morning.

  My heart races, as I try to gather my wits, because Kase Hardwin is, by far, the sexiest man I have ever laid eyes on. Not just because he’s handsome as all hell, finely built, well over six feet tall with Italian model looks, but because he’s holding a child. A six-month-old ball of squish who depends on him, smiles every time Kase drops kisses on his cheek. I’m so used to seeing rich parents not giving a shit about their kids, pawning them off to house workers. It’s refreshing to see Kase this way with his son.

  All my life, I’ve been so driven and focused, I’ve barely had any interest in men. College guys were, frankly, embarrassing with their hormone-filled attempts at getting my attention, but this man—this man practically slaps the tears out of me, drops me to my knees. It’s like some secret door has opened, unleashing lust I’ve only heard about but never seen for myself. He’s so immeasurably hot with his love for this child, I have to wipe my forehead and look away.

  Holy shit.

  “I’m working fifty, sometimes sixty hours a week, so I can’t watch him all the time, or I would,” Kase explains, looking at Baby Liam. Placing the baby back in the playpen, he hands Liam a little stuffed bear, which immediately goes into his mouth. “It’s bad enough I’m trying to assume the role of both parents.”

  “I understand.”

  “I don’t think you do.” He gives me a harsh look.

  And suddenly, I’m nobody again, daughter of parents in the lower ranks, and I can’t even tell him that I’m not really a nanny, or he’ll fire me on the spot. Nobody wants a finance manager handling their baby.

  “I understand life changes,” I tell him. Maybe that’s too bold, and maybe I should just stay quiet and do my job, but I’m not cut out for nannying and realize I’m going to have a hard time being submissive. “My life has taken unexpected turns, too.”

  “Has it?” he asks with minimal interest. A good thing, considering I don’t want to have to explain what happened with Lodwick Brothers. “Well, Miss Frasier, I’m sorry I won’t have time to hear all about it. I have a conference call in five minutes that I have to prepare for. In the next room, you’ll find a converted nursery. Used to be my conference room. Please take Liam and the playpen in there, now that you’re here, and see if you can get him to fall asleep.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The moment I reply, he glances up from his desk papers. Eyes bore through me. The intensity, the hunger… All of a sudden, I feel like I said something sexual when I didn’t. Or didn’t mean to. But as I replay the “yes, sir” in my mind, I now hear the undertones of charged, innocent lust in my feminine voice following his deep one.

  Yes, sir, I’ll do as you say.

  Yes, sir, I’ll undress for you right away.

  Yes, sir, I’ll spread my legs on your desk and watch as you slide your massive cock into me.

  I rip my gaze away from Kase with wide eyes and head straight for Liam, brushing the intrusive, sudden thoughts off my mind. What in the hell? What was that all about? Wiping sweat from my forehead, I implore all indecent thoughts away.

  “His bottle is the mini fridge. You need to warm it up. I’ll come in after my call to see how you’re doing.” Kase sits at his desk. “I have to get back to work now.”

  “Everything will be great.” I smile, stooping to pick up Baby Liam who looks like he’d rather have a pterodactyl sweep him away than have me touch him. “Everything will be just fine.”

  The good news is that he doesn’t cry when I pick him up or carry him off into the nursery; a converted work room with a foam puzzle floor, a beanbag, toys of all shapes and sizes, and an electric swing. I give Kase Hardwin one last look and close the door softly.

  Heading to the mini fridge, I pull out the bottle of formula but don’t see a microwave to heat it up. Instead, there’s a device that looks like it could possibly heat up milk.

  I can’t figure out how to use it, and Baby Liam begins getting more and more agitated as he sees the bottle of milk on the counter, the one I have no clue how to prepare. “Hold on, little guy. Sit here a minute while I figure this out.” I set him down inside the playpen, but he only whines, and there’s no way I can have him whining while Kase is about to take his phone call, so I hand him the milk bottle—plain cold.

  The baby takes one sip, makes a face like someone farted, and tosses the bottle out of the playpen. It hits the floor just as Liam lets out a big, tear-filled cry.

  “Shh, it’s okay,” I say. Panic fills my chest. “I have a finance degree, I can certainly figure out how to warm a bottle.” I turn the buttons of the device on and off. Where do I put the damn thing?

  I fumble with the controls. I turn up the heat.

  “And now, we wait while it warms. See? Easy peasy.”

  Meanwhile, the baby is crying, his face bright pink, his eyes squeezing out big, fat tears, all the while I imagine my new job going poof before my very eyes. Suddenly, I hear a click and an electronic hum. “Miss Frasier?”

  The sound is coming from a walkie-talkie device at the end of the counter. A baby monitor. Of course there would be a baby monitor. I am so stupid. Not only that, but there’
s a video camera perched in the corner of the room, too. Great.

  “Miss Frasier? Come back inside. We need to talk.”

  Kase

  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—”