Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 86(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
He doesn’t miss one either. “Lucky for you, Velvet is a very good napper. But I’d prefer you take her to the park during her nap. She enjoys the fresh air. Knocks her right out. She’ll be asleep before you reach the first hot dog cart.”
I stare at him, not even sure where to start. Velvet? For fuck’s sake. “Did you name her after her mother? A… dancer, I assume?”
“Such a judgmental nanny,” he tsks. “Are you allowed to study while you’re on the clock? What if Velvet needs something?”
“Per my contract, I’m allowed to read or partake in quiet activities as long as it’s not disruptive to the household and I can hear the baby.”
He nods, considering my answer. “Of course. How thoughtful. What’re you studying?”
“I’m getting my master’s at NYU,” I tell him, figuring that’s more than enough to satisfy any interest he has in my educational endeavors.
It’s not.
“For?” he prods, one brow raised in encouragement, complete with a little finger roll indicating I should elaborate.
“Librarian science,” I tell him, slinging my book bag onto his kitchen island. His place is way nicer than the library. I’ll probably get my studying done in half the time.
“Wow.” Mason stares at me.
“What?” I shove my slipping glasses back into place and side-eye him. I’m not really comfortable looking directly at him. He’s far too attractive and, well, cool. The mere fact that I’m referring to him as cool should tell you all you need to know about how uncool I am.
“You’re one of those girls.”
“What girls?” I ask, suspicious.
“A sexy nerd. Fuck. That’s the vibe I was getting. Not a sexy nanny, but a sexy librarian. Look at you. It’s like you’re about to tell me to quiet down. I can practically see the word ‘shhh’ coming out of your mouth,” he adds, with a long look at my lips.
I think about what my lips would look like saying shhh. And then I clear my throat.
“Of course you’re stereotyping me,” I snap. “I’ll have you know that librarian science is an extremely complex field of study.”
But there’s no wiping the grin off of his face. If anything, my declaration only makes it bigger.
“Damn.” He whistles. “I should have hired a nanny ages ago. I had no idea that’s where they were hiding the sexy nerds. Fascinating.”
I think he’s fascinating too. A fascinating asshole. There’s no need to tease me. He’s a flirt-tease. If we were living out a high-school romance novel, he’d be the star quarterback and I’d be the geeky girl assigned to help him with his algebra homework in order for him not to fail the class and get kicked off the team. And that story does not end with the girl getting the guy, unless Hollywood is in charge of it. In reality, it ends with the girl finding a nice guy capable of doing his own algebra homework.
“Hey, can you pick up my dry-cleaning today?” he asks, snapping me out of my little fantasy.
So, Lauren was at least a little right, and he thinks a nanny and a personal assistant are interchangeable. Except… part of me wants to see what happens when I say no. If he’s going to act like I’m really here taking care of little “Velvet,” then I might as well go for broke.
“Absolutely not,” I reply, tossing my hair back over my shoulder. “I only do errands involving the baby. It’s in the—”
“—contract,” he finishes. “Of course. I should’ve guessed that you’d be too focused on childcare to do anything else.” He runs his hand over his jaw, currently covered by a nauseatingly tempting bit of scruff. In my fantasy, he was sporting something a little closer to beard territory, and I could imagine the way it felt when his chin brushed across my thighs.
Stop it, Liberty, I think, because he’s looking at me like he can read my filthy mind.
A slow smile takes over his face. “So, is there something in this contract prohibiting you from snooping through all my stuff? Because, just a heads-up, you won’t find any homemade sex tapes… but don’t open the closed door at the end of the hallway. Unless”—he pauses, his gaze dropping to my lips before meeting my eyes again—“you think you can handle it.”
Holy. Shit.
I think this guy has a bona fide sex dungeon.
I clear my throat and try to act casual. I add a shrug for good measure. “I’ve seen a sex room before. Whatever.” It’s a lie. I haven’t, of course. I’ve read about them though.
“What a perverted little mind you have, Miss Parker.” Mason pulls lightly at his now perfectly knotted tie while he stares at me. I blush. Of course I do, because I’ve obviously leapt to a totally kinky conclusion and I’m mortified. Except he insinuated something, didn’t he?