“Of course, you’re the Panty Thief.”
He groans and steps closer, invading my personal space, while blocking the door. I’m wearing two towels to keep my body from being exposed, and he’s half undressed.
I tug my bottom lip between my teeth.
I will not get turned on by my boss.
I chant the silent mantra in my head. Does it work? No, but at least it keeps me distracted.
Levi stares at me, longer than he should, before he leans in, and his lips brush my ear.
My eyes involuntarily shut, and I try not to shudder. “I like the red. I hope you wore those for me.”
The air is sucked out of my lungs, and Levi turns around, taking the dirty clothes with him back to the laundry room, and I stand there dumbfounded, my legs trembling. Why does he have the ability to make me feel like I’m a virgin all over again?
* * *
I don’t see Levi for the next four days. And they feel long and excruciating. There’s no flirting, no second guessing everything that one of us says.
He’s buried himself in his office at work and made himself unavailable to Amelia and me.
Did I do something wrong?
Is it something I said? Or perhaps didn’t say?
He likes me. I mean, I think he does. He flirts with me. That’s a given. But I’m not great at flirting, and I don’t always take the bait. Maybe he decided that he’s done and just wants to keep the relationship strictly professional.
I wouldn’t blame him. Hell, it’s probably for the best, even if it’s not necessarily what I want.
I want him.
I crave him, his body, his touch, the smell of him wrapped around me. After I spent the afternoon painting in his shirt, even after my shower, I could still smell him.
It’s been well over a week since we first met. Exactly eight days, and he hasn’t fired me or tossed me out yet. I consider that progress.
Levi also hasn’t mentioned whether he’s still interested in interviewing and hiring a different nanny or if I’ve passed the trial period. I suppose that’ll wait until after we get back from the trip to Europe.
My phone pings, and I grab it, expecting a message from Levi checking on us.
It’s my ex-husband, Zander.
There’s no message, just a photo of duct tape.
“What the hell?” I mutter to myself. Something is seriously wrong with that man. I’m glad I finally got away from him. I still can’t believe it took me six years. It’s time I’ll never get back.
I dread the texts that come from Zander, unlike the messages I get from Levi.
While Levi has been at work, he texts updates, asking how Amelia is doing, if she’s been eating enough of her meals, that sort of thing. It’s sweet, and it’s clear that he cares about his daughter.
He’s still at work. The house is quiet.
Amelia is downstairs playing with her toys while I pack her clothes for the trip. I open his bedroom door. It’s like breaking the seal of the Ark of the Covenant. I shouldn’t be going in his bedroom.
But he instructed me to do so via text.
I roll out his bag from his bedroom and drag it into Amelia’s room. I lay it on the floor and unzip it, pulling the lid open. He does have quite a bit of room, and the suitcase has a divider, with one side completely empty.
The entire suitcase smells like Levi, intoxicating with woodsy notes, leather, and one hundred percent alpha male.