Tempt Me (Bodyguard Bad Boys #2)

Chapter One

Mia

The afternoon sun shines through the windows in the warm, cozy kitchen. I hold Bailey Rhodes’ little fingertips in one hand and carefully paint the six-year-old’s nails, trying my best to keep the color off the child’s skin.

“So tomorrow you start first grade. Are you ready?” I ask my small charge.

Bailey looks up at me with her father’s big brown eyes.

“I’m ’cited. Lisa’s in my class but Callie isn’t.

” She pouts as she reminds herself of that fact.

“And Lisa said Josh Rockman is with us.” She wrinkles her small nose.

“Eew. He’s gross so I hope he isn’t sitting near me, but his last name starts with an R, too.

So maybe he is. He used to be at the table across from me in Ms. Diamond’s class,” the little chatterbox says.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “I’m sure Josh isn’t gross, Bailey.”

“He’s a boy,” Bailey says, drawing out the word with a negative tone, as if that fact explains everything.

I wave my hand over the polish, hoping to help it dry before Bailey is off to play and smudges my work. “All finished, but can you sit for a few minutes so it dries?”

“Yeah.” Bailey holds up her hands and grins, a nearly toothless smile because she lost her front teeth and they’ve only just begun to grow in. So. Cute. “Can I watch TV?” she asks.

“I have to get dinner ready, so I’ll put it on in the family room.” I gesture to the room across from the kitchen with a completely open view of the sofa and television from where I will prepare the evening meal.

“Wait. I’ll put some oil on your nails to help them set.” I apply the oil, then lead Bailey to the sofa in the family room. “How about you keep your hands right here?” I place them palm-down on Bailey’s thighs, turn on her favorite show, and hope it keeps her occupied while the polish dries.

For the last three months, I’ve been a live-in nanny for Bailey, hired by the child’s single father, Austin Rhodes.

He lives in Connecticut, wanting his daughter to grow up in the suburbs, in a house with neighbors and a backyard in which to play.

There is no Mrs. Rhodes in the picture. My employer didn’t explain except to say he has sole custody… and I haven’t asked questions.

I have enough in my own work background he hasn’t pushed hard about when hiring me. My last job wasn’t a cakewalk. My employer was into shady dealings, and I heard too much, learned things I had to report to the authorities and testify about at trial.

Austin only cared that I stepped up and did the right thing in the courts, and he had no problem hiring me.

He didn’t care about the details. Of course, I’m not stupid.

He is a bodyguard with access to all sorts of information, so he probably found out the particulars on his own.

As for the elusive one-time Mrs. Rhodes, Bailey never mentions her mom, either, but when it comes to Austin, I can’t help but wonder why any woman would let him go.

Not going there, I remind myself before my thoughts can drift to the man who keeps himself in shape courtesy of a downstairs gym and who has well-defined muscles and sexy tattoos.

He also possesses a chiseled face with a strong chin and full lips, jet-black hair, longer on top, and a constant, sexy scruff of a beard.

And before I let myself linger on him any longer—I am only human, after all—I push my wayward thoughts away.

He has no place in my mind. During my work as a nanny, I’ve come into contact with men who thought I was available for extracurricular activities as well as child care, something that both offends and upsets me.

These men were married, for one thing, and I never want to be that cliché, the nanny who has an affair with her wealthy employer.

Even if, in this case, he is single. Thank goodness Austin isn’t one of those men.

He always treats me with distant kindness and respect.

“Mia, I messed a nail,” Bailey calls out, interrupting my thoughts long before I even start prepping dinner.

I shake my head and laugh. “Come on over and I’ll fix it.”

Before Bailey can make her way back to the kitchen, the state-of-the-art alarm system beeps, alerting me to the fact that Austin—he insists I call him by his first name or else he’ll think I’m talking about his father—is home.

He walks in through the garage side door as he does every evening he doesn’t have an assignment that keeps him out odd hours.

“Daddy!” Bailey squeals and runs to her father, who scoops her up before she can barrel into him.

“What’s up, Bailey Button?” he asks, using his nickname for his daughter.

She giggles as she always does. “Mia did my nails. See?” She shoves her hand in his face, too close for him to get a good look.

He pulls her wrist farther away and studies her purple nails as if they are the most important thing in the world to him, and my heart melts.

“Gorgeous!” he exclaims, with more feeling than I’d have thought the man could muster over a manicure.

In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve seen firsthand that he is an amazing father and Bailey is a lucky girl.

Having grown up in foster care, I know how special the father-daughter bond is—or rather, I know how much I missed in not having it.

My father walked out on my mother and me when I was two, so I barely remember him.

I lost my mom a few years later to cancer, so I know how fortunate the little girl is to have a dad like Austin.

“I messed one up so Mia has to fix it,” the little girl says, wriggling out of her father’s embrace.

“Come on, munchkin,” I call out to her. “Let’s fix you. Then I need to get dinner prepped.”

“I’m going to exercise first, so don’t rush,” Austin says.

I nod. “No worries. It’s a stir-fry, so I’ll get everything ready and I won’t start until you’re finished showering,” I say, aware of his routine.

“Thanks.”

I busy myself with Bailey’s nails and not with thinking about a sweaty Austin working out in his downstairs gym, the muscles flexing as he moves, or his hot body in the shower afterwards. I am the nanny, and that’s all I’ll ever be.

* * *

Austin

I had a long day. I wouldn’t call the situation I was in a hostage crisis, but it was damned close. Too close for a man with a child at home, that is for sure.

The woman I was guarding snuck out to meet with her ex while I was busy with her little girl.

I usually receive the kid-friendly jobs because, according to my boss, Dan Wilson, I am good with children.

As if having my own makes me an expert on other people’s kids.

Being around other kids only makes me long for my daughter because at least I understand her…

until the teenage years hit. I shudder at the thought.

After a long, hard workout, weights and cardio included, I step into a hot shower and let the steam relax my muscles.

As I wash up and shampoo my hair, my stomach growls, reminding me it is time for dinner.

Which, of course, reminds me of my daughter’s nanny, whose blonde hair is usually in a messy bun looking sexy when she isn’t intending it to be.

At the thought of her, my body comes to life, and it takes all my willpower not to jerk off to the thought of her.

I am beyond lucky I found my Mia through a reputable service and she has amazing cooking skills. Add in that Bailey seems to adore her and I can’t mess up a good thing by coming on to the nanny.

Before Mia, my parents were Bailey’s caregivers, and although my mom and dad are young and spry, it wasn’t fair to expect them to give up their lives to take care of my child. No matter that they love their granddaughter, they’ve already raised their kids, my sister Sharon and me.

Head on straight, I dry myself off and pull on a pair of black track pants and a light blue tee shirt, then head downstairs to find my daughter.

As I approach the kitchen, Bailey’s chatter reaches my ears.

“Mia, would you come with Daddy to bring me to school?”

The sound of stir-fry sizzling in the wok acts as stereo to Mia’s reply. “Your daddy is excited to take you tomorrow. He even took off from work so he could be there. You don’t want to disappoint him, do you?”

“No, but…” Bailey hesitates. “Everyone’s going to have their mommies, and I won’t and I’ll be sad. So can you come, please? I know you’re not my mommy but you’re a girl. So pretty please, come take me?”

My daughter’s words are like a punch in the gut.

I didn’t leave Kayla; she walked out on our daughter and me, not once but twice.

True, I married her because she was pregnant, on purpose, she admitted, but I was determined to make the marriage work.

Unfortunately, not only was she a shitty wife, she was a worse mother, and that was where I drew the line.

Anything that hurts my daughter is unacceptable.

I shake my head, determined to stay in the present with the one person who matters. “Hey, guys, something smells good!” I join Bailey and Mia in the kitchen, where Mia is placing servings of delicious-looking stir-fried chicken and vegetables on our respective places.

Although when she first started her job, Mia planned to eat alone after Bailey and I finished, it seemed natural to ask her to join us and not treat her like hired help.

We settle into our chairs and begin to eat. Before her, my mom cooked for the family. Left to my own devices, Bailey and I would live on tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, which I enjoy, but it isn’t exactly staple food to raise my daughter on every meal.

“Daddy?” Bailey asks, scooting her legs beneath her so she can reach the table better.

“Yes?”

“Can Mia come with you to take me to school?” she asks, her determination when she wants something rivaling mine.

“I thought we talked about this,” Mia says. “Your dad is going to drive you, and I’ll pick you up,” she says brightly, trying to convince Bailey she has the best of both worlds with the planned arrangement.