Urgent: One Nanny Required (Crimson Romance) by Olivia Logan

bottle.
    “Yeah, of course. Probably a Valentine’s Day special reduction sort of thing,” she laughed, the sound coming out more Wicked Witch of the West than the tinkling laugh of the Good Witch of the North. Just perfect; now she sounded like a witch and not even the nice one.
    Turning, she fled up the stairs, finally able to breathe normally as she hit the safety of her bedroom.

Chapter 5
    She’d never remembered showering or dressing so quickly in her life. Or worrying about what to wear. Her relationship with Ben hadn’t actually seen a Valentine’s Day so she’d never had to worry. She’d been convinced she hadn’t inherited that girlie-girl gene from her mother who used to make a point of dressing up to the nines on every occasion.
    Thinking about Ben reminded her that he’d never bought her champagne before. Nor was he over six feet tall and had the body of someone straight from her fantasies. As she corralled her straying thoughts, she corrected herself. Nick hadn’t bought her champagne. He’d bought champagne, probably because it was discounted and he didn’t want to drink alone. She had never been the sort of girl to inspire the champagne-drinking, flower-buying sort of behavior. And she never wanted to be that kind of girl, either, she thought, frowning at herself in the mirror. Especially not with a director from Hollywood.
    The girl in the mirror frowned back, although Rania was unsure whether she was agreeing with her or frowning at her new V-necked sleeveless red dress. The “just above the knee” hemline meant it was modest enough for dinner and she knew the color suited her. Adjusting her dress, she grabbed her tan pumps as her gaze drifted to a pair of black jeweled flip-flops. Dropping the pumps, she slid her feet into the flip-flops, glad she’d done her mani-pedi during one of Theo’s nap times. Letting her hair dry loosely she took a deep breath as she descended the stairs. She felt her heart thump with each step. If she had been the fanciful kind — which she was not — she would have pretended she really was Belle from
Beauty and the Beast.
    Her breath hitched in her throat as he came out of the kitchen. Boss or no boss, it should be illegal to be cooking and still look that good. Not a sign of any splatter was on the crisp white shirt. In fact, the only sign he’d been anywhere near the kitchen was the two bubbling champagne flutes he held.
    Glancing up she could see his gaze roam over her and she gripped the banister tighter as she made her way down the remaining stairs. The flats put her at the same disadvantage as when she first met him in the shop, her head only reaching his chest and she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. She couldn’t tell if the stunned expression in his eyes was a good or a bad thing and she barely resisted the urge to run back upstairs and throw on her old little black dress.
    “Is one of those for me?” She asked, pointing at the glasses he held. She could do with some liquid courage right about now.
    “What … Yes, of course.” He handed her the glass, their fingers brushing in the exchange and she jerked her hand back quickly, the imprint of his touch still tingling.
    Sipping slowly, she felt the bubbles tickle the back of her throat. She’d have to be careful with this stuff. She’d never been much of a drinker and now was probably not the time to start. After all, it wasn’t like they’d be alone. Theo was going to be there. Just a family dinner. No, scrap that; just a dinner with father and son spending time together, with the nanny along for company.
    “Smells amazing,” she said, following him to the kitchen where various smells wafted through the air. The large table, where she had been standing a short time ago was now laden with three plates, cutlery, glasses, and a single red rose.
    She felt frozen to the spot, her eyes flicking nervously back and forth between the rose and her champagne flute. A rose too!
    He caught her stare