Doubtful I’d go that far. “As long as she’s here by Monday morning so I can meet her and observe her with Rynn before I have to teach my afternoon class, that sounds good. Thank you.”
All he could hope was that Rynn did love her, because Brock was out of options.
Chapter Two
Camilla
She was hesitant, right from the get-go. After all, Camilla had just gotten out of the most nightmarish nanny position she’d ever experienced in her life. It was also the only job as a nanny she’d ever had, so she didn’t have anything else to compare it to. But if that was what being a nanny was all about—dealing with two six-year-old twin boys who had a fondness for setting makeshift traps that inflicted pain on their unwitting victims and purposely destroying things in their parents’ home just so the babysitter would get in trouble, Camilla wanted no part of this career choice anymore.
Unfortunately, she had no other prospects at the moment, and the nanny agency’s call came before she had the chance to win the lottery and run off to some beautiful tropical island.
Another nanny position. This time, caring for a four-year-old girl. The agency manager swore she was a delight to be with, and that the parents were reasonable and excellent clients who’d just been left hanging by their previous nanny, who’d taken another job and left them without help.
Camilla felt bad enough about that, which was why she accepted the position despite getting a call on a Saturday morning about it, and despite being ridiculously skeptical that the little girl was an angel—the manager’s words, not hers—and the parents were as easy to get along with as she was led to believe.
Either way, Camilla was twenty-one years old, with an apartment to pay for and other bills to pay. She needed a job. So, she agreed to meet with the father of the little girl on Monday morning and let him interview her—he’d probably interrogate her, that was more accurate—while she met her new client and then stayed for the afternoon.
Which led her there, to the cobblestone front step she stood on, where she knocked on the front door and gaped at the old-world charm of the estate-like home before her. It wasn’t massive, but the elegance the building portrayed, the intricate stonework and wrought irons railings, made the house more beautiful and fancy in her eyes than any oversized mansion ever could.
The door swung open, and if Camilla’s mouth wasn’t hanging open at the sight of the house, it was now, due to the sight of the man standing in front of her.
He was older than she was, maybe mid or late thirties. He wore a crisp white dress shirt, buttoned all the way up except for the top button or two, and his hair was gelled to give it that styled-yet-messy look she’d seen only perfected in commercials. A dark shadow of stubble lined his cheeks, chin, and upper lips, but it was neat and tidy and...intoxicating. Paired with his eyes, a sheer blue that pierced through her and made it impossible to look away, and his obviously chiseled body beneath the otherwise muted shirt and khakis, Camilla wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a more alluring man in her entire life.
“Oh, wow...hey, I mean. You must be Camilla Benton....right?”
He sounded just as unsure as she felt. That was when Camilla realized she was staring at him, wide-eyed. The only saving grace was that he looked caught off guard, too.
“Yeah.” She shook her head, trying to clear her racing thoughts. She held a hand out in attempt to prove she had some manners. “I’m Camilla. The agency called me this weekend about your nanny leaving your family on short notice. I apologize for that inconvenience, by the way.”
“I’m Brock, Rynn’s dad.” He shook her hand, and Camilla wasn’t sure if he could feel the heat that seeped between their touching skin. It seemed to set her ablaze deep inside, far past the point where only their fingers touched, making her cheeks heat up in response. “Come in, Camilla. Rynn’s just in the living room.”
She followed him inside, glancing down at her gray linen pants and dark purple long-sleeved shirt, wondering idly if she looked okay. Then, she wondered why she cared.
Oh, right, because your new boss is sexy as hell.
She shook the thought from her mind—she didn’t need that kind of distraction, especially not today when she was supposed to be making a good first impression. She was bound to make a fool of herself if she didn’t focus on what mattered most—Rynn, the little girl her world would revolve around each day.
“Rynn, there’s somebody here to meet you.”
Camilla noticed how Brock’s voice changed when he called out to his daughter. An octave higher, softer, more affectionate. It was downright adorable.
“Just a heads-up,” Brock added, almost wincing. “She only found out Anna wasn’t coming back last night. I can’t decide if she’s okay about the whole thing yet or not.”
There was no time to feel out the situation. The little girl came sprinting out of the living room, where, through the open-concept living room, Camilla could see a cartoon on the television screen with bouncing alphabet letters bobbing across it.
The first thing she noticed was the girl’s eyes—piercing and gorgeous, just like her father’s. But they had a different shape, more almond than round. Her hair was slightly lighter than Brock’s, and it trailed down her back in loose, buoyant curls. She looked like one of the fancy dolls Camilla’s mom used to collected in a china cabinet in their living room when she was growing up.
“Well, hey, Rynn.” Camilla bent forward, hands on her hips. “It’s good to finally meet you.”
The little girl stopped an arm’s length from her, eyeing her up conspicuously. “You don’t look like Anna.”
Not off to a good start, she thought, but she kept a smile plastered on her face. “Maybe not, but I bet we’ll have lots of fun, anyway.”
“What’s your name?” For a four-year-old, Rynn was quick. Maybe the interrogation wasn’t going to come from her father after all.
“Camilla.”
“Like the puppy stealer?” Rynn screeched out the words, her eyes wide to show how appalled she was.