Page 43 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
“Hey, look, it’s Libby Lamb! She’s with him,” a reporter yelled, cutting into her thoughts. She pulled her wrap around her body as the media migrated to her side of the car like a swarm of hornets.
Raz rolled up his window. “Don’t worry. They can’t see you. The windows are tinted.” He pressed a button on the dash. The creak of the gate opening sent the reporters dashing away from the car like a bunch of cockroaches. With a smug expression pasted to his face, he maneuvered the Hummer through the sea of flashing lights.
“Get used to it. It’s part of the show,” he muttered.
Libby seethed as they headed up a hill toward an enormous hulking mansion. It made sense that he’d live in a monstrosity of a home in Denver’s priciest neighborhood. He drove a monstrosity of a car and behaved like a monstrosity of a jerk. “Just when I was starting to think you were a real human being, you revert into that chi-crashing, O obliterator,” she hissed under her breath.
“What does that mean?” he shot back, irritation infused into the question.
“Why do you do that, Raz?” she asked, shaking her head in disgust.
“Do what?” he barked as he slammed the car into park in the center of the circle drive, then turned in his seat and gave her that look.
Inside his stupidly tricked-out, giant testosterone mobile with his giant mansion looming, and that smug smirk slapped to his face, he’d done it again. He’d given her that look. The same look he’d given her seventy-five days ago. His gray gaze cut through her as if she didn’t exist.
On the brink of a karma cataclysm, she unbuckled her seat belt, grabbed the drawstrings on his hoodie, yanked his stupidly sexy body her way, then sized him up as the vibrator chucking part of her took over. “Why do you act like an arrogant, self-absorbed jerk?”
He unbuckled his seat belt and leaned in. The tip of his nose brushed past hers. Time slowed to a crawl as the air sparked with an impassioned intensity. “It’s my job. I’m a fighter. It’s what the boxing world wants,” he countered in an infuriatingly sexy rumble.
He might think this beastly lion business scared everyone into submission. But it didn’t work on her. Her pulse raced. Her chest heaved. The peace and love version of herself made way for a woman scorned. And this woman didn’t back down. “I don’t care what the media wants. What do you want?”
The air crackled between them on the verge of igniting as breathless anticipation sent a furious charge through her body.
“What do I want to do right this very minute?” he asked. The heat of his breath tickled her lips. He gripped her shoulders. The raw strength of his hands holding her in place sent a ripple of warmth between her thighs. Hot, wet, and ready to spring across the console and mount this man like he was a wild stallion; she was on the brink of losing total control. And look who’d decided to say hello. Nice to see you again, sacral chakra. And it wasn’t only the seat of her sexuality taking notice. The seven energy centers in her body lit up like a Christmas tree.
This was bad. This was very bad.
She should let go of the drawstrings. She should sit back in her seat, smooth her bird-shit-covered wrap, and forget about his scent and his touch and the way nothing and everything made sense when their lips were mere millimeters apart.
Did she dare press him to answer, or did she know deep in her heart what this hulk of a beefcake really wanted?
Her body took over, and she parted her lips. “Tell me what you want,” she whispered, when her phone chimed an incoming call.
As if they’d been doused with a bucket of icy water, she gasped. Raz released his grip, and she scrambled to get herself together. Glancing into her bag, Anders and Alec’s picture flashed on her phone. “It’s my brothers,” she stammered, heat rising to her cheeks as another helping of mortification washed over her.
What was she doing? Erasmus Cress was her boss.
“You should answer. We know why they’re calling. You should let them know you’re okay,” he said with a nervous shake to his voice before sinking into his seat, then running his hands down his face.
“I’ll be quick.” Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she nearly dropped her phone, attempting to answer the call.
“Hey, boys,” she said, trying to sound as if shewasn’ton the verge of screwing the brains out of an annoyingly sexy professional boxer.
“Hey, Libbs, we’re so happy for you,” Alec sang out.
“We didn’t think things would move so quickly,” Anders chimed.
Libby stared at Raz, looking for answers, but the man simply shrugged.
“It’s been quite a day. I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. I need you to be a little more specific,” she replied, damn proud of herself for putting together a cohesive thought that didn’t include her lips attached to Erasmus Cress.
“We saw the video of youtrainingthe British Beast, Erasmus Cress,” Anders answered.
“You did?” she squeaked. Welp, if the video had made it to remote parts of Ecuador, it had made it about everywhere.
“It freaked us out when we first saw it, and we almost booked flights home, but then Briggs Keaton called and explained the situation,” Alec clarified.
Okay, this couldn’t be that bad. That Briggs guy was all about damage control. Hopefully, he’d employed the same tactic with her brothers.
