Page 49 of The Nanny and the Heartthrob

He gripped her wrist and stopped her from teasing his hard length.

Had she blown it with that sentimental slip?

“Do you need help, Harper? Are you in trouble? If you need anything, I—”

Shit!

She pressed her fingertips to his lips and doubled her resolve. “We’re not talking about real life. There’s only one question you have to ask yourself.”

“What’s the question?”

“Do you want me?”

She exhaled a shaky breath, but she’d gotten it out.

He tightened his grip on her wrist that sent a charge through her arm. The man exuded raw desire—that was his job. He was a pop star. But to have all that energy focused on her sent a wave of euphoria through her veins. A muscle ticked in his cheek again as he sharpened his laser focus. It was as if he were holding himself back from bending her over a barstool and taking her in the club.

Good, that was the vibe they needed.

He released her wrist and took her hand in his. “Come on. I know a place.”

Relief washed over her—or was that disappointment? Was she disappointed he was okay with one night of debauchery? Did she want him to want more?

No, no, no! It didn’t matter if he sang her a love song and begged on his knees.

He was a musician.

And there was no way in hell she’d ever date a musician.

Get it together, Bonbon Barbie.

Holding her hand, he led her up a spiral staircase. Unlike in the rest of the packed club, they didn’t see a soul in this dimly lit space. Their feet clanked against the metal steps as a few naked lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling cast the stairwell in a golden glow. She glanced at Landon. It was the first time she’d seen him without the flash of colorful strobe lights. He caught her looking and smiled that dreamy pop star half-grin.

And there it was again. Her silly heart skipped a beat.

Do not fall for the pop star.

Pop star equals musician.

Musician equals heartbreak.

“Are you really up for anything?” he asked with a dirty smirk that got her pulse racing and knocked the equal signs out of her head.

“Are you?” she tossed back.

Landon drank her in. His eyes glittered with lust. “I was born ready, bonbon.”

Bonbon?

She was about to give him hell for dropping such a cheesy line and calling herbonbonwhen a door appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Where are we?”

“Trust me. You’ll love it up here.”

He opened a door and gestured for her to enter the snug alcove hidden by a black curtain—the Vegas version of an opera box. She parted the thick drapes and gazed out into a sea of flashing lights. They were at least two stories above the packed dance floor. It was quite a view, and then the beat dropped, and she gasped as the floor vibrated with the thumping music.

She held on to the railing attached to the half wall. “What is that?”

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