Alien Architect Needs a Nanny (Alien Nanny Agency 1)

Ra’as

Ra’as Drayven stood in the doorway, tapping his foot with nervous rage.

The nanny was supposed to be here almost an hour ago. He had paid a premium for a private flight, and spared no expense on her gadabout rental.

And now he was standing around anyway, waiting.

Time was the only commodity in short supply in Ra’as’s life, so it was precious, priceless even.

And he had wasted nearly an hour of it pacing in front of his own front door.

By the time the eyesore of an ancient gadabout coughed its way to the end of the circular drive he was seeing red.

Clearly the cheap old bag had negotiated to take this terrifying vehicle and pocket the difference between it and the FleetPace he’d paid for.

Instantly, he heard his mother’s voice in his head, urging him to give people the benefit of the doubt.

And damnit, he didn’t have a choice. He either gave Emilia Robbins the benefit of the doubt, or he had no one to take care of the children.

He watched out the window as the door to the gadabout opened.

No sooner did the female figure in the plaid skirt and sweater exit the vehicle than she was sprawled on the ground on her hands and knees.

Sun gods, what was I thinking?

She was an elderly woman, and he hadn’t even arranged a helper droid for her. She was probably exhausted from trying to carry her own bags. Maybe she had even been tricked into taking this awful gadabout.

Rage turning to guilt, he flung open the door and took the stairs two at a time, cursing himself as he crouched down to see if she was injured.

So much for making a good first impression.

“Miss Robbins,” he said gently. “Are you okay?”

In the looming shadow of the house and with the clouds gathered overhead, he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but her hair seemed to be a lustrous chestnut, without a hint of gray.

That was odd, but if the old woman wanted to spend her earnings at the hairdresser, he figured it was none of his business.

She began to pick herself up on her hands.

“I’ll help you,” he said, putting his arms around her carefully and lifting her to her feet in front of him.

She was heavier than he had expected, and more solid.

When she lifted her face to meet his eyes, he nearly staggered back in surprise.

This was no frail old lady. This was a young woman, in the full bloom of health.

In spite of her obviously Terran features, she was strangely beautiful, with large hazel eyes almost as green as his forest. She blinked up at him, looking half-dazed, and he felt something unfamiliar stir in his chest.

“Thanks,” she breathed.

Sun gods, but she was attractive, and she smelled good too. His body was responding on its own, awakening, ready to pounce on this supple, juicy prey.

Damnit, Drayven.

Letting go of her, he stepped back quickly, cursing her for her odd beauty, and her carelessness in falling down.

He was completely off his game now. Ra’as Drayven didn’t run around helping his employees when they fell. He had touched her and helped her, and she was murmuring her thanks so softly he had to lean closer to hear.