Home > Out of Control (Babysitting a Billionaire #2)(9)

Out of Control (Babysitting a Billionaire #2)(9)
Author: Nina Croft

Zach raced across the expanse of lawns, ignoring the growling dog. Dani lay on her side, her eyes closed, though a pulse fluttered in her throat. Crouching down beside her, he reached out, then dropped his arm to his side and examined her. Was she seriously hurt? From just a fall?

“Shit. Fuck. Crap,” she muttered.

The tension drained from him. She probably wasn’t that hurt if she could still swear like a trooper. She was so tiny and so fierce, and he couldn’t believe how sexy he found that. Sitting back on his heels, he waited. A few seconds later, her lashes flickered open, and she gave him the evil eye.

“Hey, what did I do?” he asked.

“Nothing…I suppose.” Dani gritted her teeth as she rolled onto her back. She lay still, her breasts rising and falling with each breath. After a minute, she pushed herself into a sitting position.

“Fucking leg,” she growled.

“Maybe you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“And maybe it’s none of your business.” She shook her head, then rubbed her thigh. “Sorry. It probably is your business—after all, you’re the one employing a freaking cripple.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.”

He bit back a grin, stood up, and held out a hand to her. She glared at it for an eternity. Then she took a deep breath, did that little counting thing she always did when she was pissed, and slid her small hand into his.

Rather than tug her to her feet, he slipped an arm around her waist and picked her up.

“What the—”

“Keep quiet for a minute and accept some help.” He tightened his grip.

“Don’t want to,” she mumbled, but she stopped wriggling and held herself very still.

He liked the feel of her against him once she ceased fighting. The warmth of her breast pressed against his chest, her ponytail tickling his nose. She smelled of jasmine, and sweat, and warm woman. His body responded to her closeness, heat sinking to his groin. He ignored the reaction. This wasn’t about sex.

Yet.

She hardly weighed anything, and he carried her with ease back toward the terrace and through the open doors. After laying her gently on the huge sofa, he stepped back and observed her. Small and pale, she awoke protective instincts he would have sworn didn’t exist.

She was such a weird combination of fragile and strong. He wasn’t sure he liked the feelings she invoked. He didn’t want to protect anyone; he was a loner, always had been since he’d headed out on his own at seventeen. And why go all sappy and protective about the one woman who wanted nothing to do with him? Probably his contrary nature playing a joke on him.

“You’re staring,” she said.

Time to take his mind off the whole protective thing and onto more familiar lines. “Just admiring your breasts.”

She pursed her lips then peered down at her chest. “They’re pretty well covered.”

“Ah, but I’ve seen them naked, and they’re indelibly imprinted on my mind.”

“Yeah, right. Along with all the other breasts you’ve seen.”

“But yours were by far the most beautiful.”

Dani snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”

He cocked his head to one side and considered her. “Why?”

She shifted on the seat, obviously uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going. Underneath all that snarky attitude, there seethed a mass of insecurity and lack of self-esteem. Why was that? He wanted to pull her apart, take away the things that put the pain in her eyes. He was pretty sure it wasn’t all because of that bomb blast. The prickles went too deep.

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, and I have to go.”

“No, you don’t. Lie back and relax for a few minutes. I’ll go get us both coffee.”

He watched as the expressions flashed across her face: suspicion, confusion, a little dash of interest—or maybe that was wishful thinking.

“I’ve got a pot of coffee on. Real coffee,” he added temptingly. “Real Columbian coffee, very strong, fresh cream, sugar.”

Dani squirmed “How much has Gary been telling you about me?”

“I think this little tidbit might have come from Simon.”

Suddenly, the tension drained out of her, and she sagged against the cushions. “Oh, okay then.”

“Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Dani watched until he disappeared out the door. She should get up and go, but instead she lay on the scarlet leather sofa in the center of the huge, luxuriously decorated living room. It was a beautiful room, with white walls and splashes of bold color. No doubt, her hair was clashing horribly with the sofa.

She rubbed at her thigh. There was a dull ache in the limb, but she didn’t think she’d done any real damage. At least, she hoped she hadn’t. She’d been pushing herself, farther and faster each day. She was getting stronger and didn’t need any setbacks right now.

Outside the glass doors, Angel sat patiently on the terrace. He wagged his tail when he saw her watching. She gave a flick of her hand to wave him off—he was supposed to be working, and he trotted away.

She settled back against the soft cushions, and her gaze drifted down to her breasts. Did Zach really think they were beautiful? She’d always thought of them as…well, just breasts. Maybe a little too big, but not abnormal in any way. She hitched up the top, but like she’d told him—she was adequately covered.

She’d drink her coffee and then hobble home. That’s it. No problem…

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted into the room as the door opened. Zach carried a tray, which he placed on the table beside the sofa. Then he sank down beside her. Way too close for comfort. His long thigh touched hers and she tried to inch away, but there was no room. Besides, there was an amused glitter in his eyes and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing how uncomfortable he made her feel. Though maybe “uncomfortable” wasn’t the right word.

“Come on, sit up.” He put his hands under her armpits and pulled her up so she was sitting with her back against the cushions at the side of the sofa.

“I’m not a child.”

His gaze ran down over her body, lingering on her breasts—again—and this time, she resisted the urge to squirm. “Believe me, I know that, honey.”

“Don’t call me…” She trailed off. What was the point? “Coffee,” she prompted.

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