Page 1 of Royal Baby Maker

- Chapter One -

Nellie

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For the sixth timeI checked the directions my roommate had sent me. The address on my phone definitely matched the one in front of me. And that was what concerned me the most.

I'd lived in Los Angeles for several years, and even so, standing in front of a mansion up in the Hollywood Hills would never be something I'd take lightly. This house was big enough to be a castle! They probably hired it out for film studios to use!

Seriously, Gigi?I thought, eyeballing my phone again.I know I need the cash, but I thought I'd be walking dogs for some busy house mom. Not... not whatever THIS is!Inhaling until my lungs ached, I squared off with the tall steps that led up to the open gates.

I could do this.

I mean... Ihadto do this.

Carefully I climbed the stairs. I was a little tired from walking up the sloping street, so by the time I reached the front door of the mansion, I was breathing quicker.Jeez, I'm out of shape.I could thank my ex for that. He'd made it way too easy to stay inside all the time, eating terrible takeout because he could never bother to help me cook.

That was the past, and my future was going to be good, and bright, and everything that my cheating ex wasnot.One more deep breath, then I knocked on the huge door. There was no answer—through the glass, I spotted movement. “Hello?” I called, tapping. “I'm here about the dog walker job?”

Something scrabbled at the inside of the door. When I bent closer, my shoe crunched on a piece of paper I'd first missed. I lifted the pink sticky note into the air—it must have fallen off the door. It read: Deliveries come inside.

Hm. I wasn't a delivery, but...Gigi would tell me to take initiative!My roommate had way less shame than me. She was born without the part of her brain that warnedThis is a bad idea.

When I opened the door, two orange puffballs slammed into me. I hurriedly closed the door so they wouldn't get outside. “Hey there,” I said, grinning.

The Pomeranians yipped while bouncing at my heels. They were pretty identical, but one had a tail that pointed up higher than the other. Petting their heads, I scanned the wide room with wonder. A curling white staircase reached upwards on my right, large couches in red and gold were placed strategically around the room.

Off to one side there was a hallway—down it I could hear water running. Giving the dogs another quick pat, I rose and dusted myself off. “Anyone home?” I called, walking carefully into the gigantic kitchen. One of the Pomeranians circled my legs, slowing me down and distracting me with its adorable energy. “Ah!” I laughed. “You're way too cute!”

“Thanks,” a very rich, VERY male voice said. “That's kind of you.”

Freezing in place, I lifted my eyes. The room was all marble—entirely luxurious—but that wasn't where my focus went. Right in front of me was my speaker.

And he was half naked.

The guy was leaning on the side of the gigantic kitchen island. In one hand he held a glass of water, freshly poured—the condensation dripping off the sides and down onto his chiseled, tattoo-covered torso.

His thick hair had a wind-blown, slightly shiny look, as if he'd been sweating. I noted his running shoes, his grey and black shorts, then the FitBit on his wrist. Definitely a jogger.

He set the glass on the counter and the noise made me jump. “You know,” he said, ruffling his hair. “You should be careful breaking into people's homes. Though, I've never met a burglar as attractive and polite as you.”

My brain fizzled; I stepped closer, laughing nervously. Hot guys don't flirt with me. I didn't know how to handle his charming grin. “I'm here for the dog walker job. My name's Nellie.”

I'd extended my hand to him like we were business partners. He stared at it, then me. That long pause made me feel tiny as a snail. Just as I started to withdraw, he circled the counter, grabbing my palm and squeezing it tight. “Bishop Callehurst.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

He squinted at me, clearly waiting for something. His eyes were a soft gray—like smoke on the horizon. “I didn't know my mother had gone and hired someone to walk Jaws and Cujo.”

Jaws and Cujo?I peeked down at the Pomeranians where they were stretched out on the tile.Did he pick their names?I had a thing for classic horror movies.

Bishop cleared his throat, looking pointedly at my hand where it was still clasped on his. Could I be anymore awkward? Blushing, I tried to pull it away, but he held on before releasing me. His chuckle rolled through me like a wave made from honey. “Thought you were stuck for a second there.”

It wouldn't be so bad to be stuck inside a big, testosterone filled sandwich like Bishop.I saw it in my mind's eye—his arms circling me, his breath warm as he rumbled against my spine.Focus!I reprimanded myself. I was here for a job, not to flirt with Mister Sexy No Shirt.

“Is your mom around?” I asked, flexing my fingers by my side and trying to forget how firm his hand had been.

“She'll be here soon.” Leaning forward, he brought his face close to mine. “Are you really a dog walker?”

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