Page 19 of A Nanny for the Reclusive Billionaire

Mallory’s insides did that little flippy thing that seemed to happen whenever Rhys did something to remind her that whatever his failings, he was a man who loved his son. He just needed someone to snap him out of his stupor and remind him that Oliver needed him. Not his money or what it could provide, but him.

Oh. My. God.Her sister was right. Rhys was Captain von Trapp. Cold. Impersonal. Emotionally unavailable. And she was his Fräulein Maria, the sweet, innocent maiden sent to help heal his wounds and make his family whole again.

Except the Straits of Florida would freeze over before he gave her a second glance, never mind fell in love with her. And no matter what her hula-dancing hormones said, there was no way she was letting herself get involved with him.

No. Way.

“Then you’ll come with us?” Oliver’s plea snapped her back to reality.

“I’d like to.” Rhys averted his eyes, staring down at his loafer-clad feet. Mallory braced herself for the inevitable “but.” She didn’t have to wait long. “But I have a lot of work to catch up on. Maybe we could celebrate after dinner.”

Oliver’s lower lip jutted out for real this time, no theatrics required, strengthening Mallory’s resolve. “Collins said your schedule’s clear for the rest of the afternoon.”

“He’s in on this, too?” Rhys asked with a smirk.

“Four meals a week,” she reminded him under her breath. “You promised. You can catch up on work later.”

Rhys glanced over his shoulder, presumably to take stock of the ever-present pile of papers stacked on his desk waiting for his attention. Then he stepped through the doorway and closed the door behind him. “All right, let’s go.”

“Great.” She handed him the basket. “I know the perfect place.”