Ember In The Heart

Striding across the hardwood floors, he decided he’d need rugs in here. It would be cold in the winter and the room echoed. Opening the French doors, he stepped out onto the small balcony that hung above his back deck and movement from next door’s yard caught his attention.

Someone was having a late-night swim in the Bonet’s pool. There were lights situated around the pool to illuminate it, and the patio around it. It was hard to tell which sister was swimming… until she climbed out.

His mouth went dry.

Luscious curves were displayed in a green bikini.

Ember Bonet.

The object of his lust.

Hot blood rushed south.

He knew from being up close and personal with her that she didn’t have the tight, slender body of the young society women he’d dated since he was a teen. Bodies honed from frequent visits with a personal trainer and a fierce control over their diet. Ember was soft where they were toned. And she could give a fuck.

Her hips sashayed from side to side as she strolled toward the house, her heavy breasts jiggling with the movement, and Foster swallowed a groan. Could that woman get any more dangerously sexy?

He squeezed his eyes closed once she disappeared out of sight.

It was a good thing she hated him… otherwise she’d be a temptation and distraction he might not be able to resist.

This couldn’t be happening. Foster tried to modulate his tone so as not to upset Georgie as she sat on the back deck with him, eating the pastries they’d bought from the local bakery. Sundays were pancake day but the kitchen wasn’t unpacked yet and he hadn’t bought groceries yet.

Sunday was also supposed to be a chill day but he and Colt were in the middle of a huge business deal (as in they were buying out an established but failing real estate company and incorporating it into their brand) and the last thing Foster needed was the nanny he’d just hired calling him to inform him she’d found another situation that was better for her.

In California.

Shit.

Getting up from the patio furniture, he stalked toward the boundary between his place and the Bonet’s, partially hidden by the low fence between them. “And you didn’t think to tell me you were interviewing for another job? You didn’t think that it might be a huge inconvenience to me to be without a nanny the day before she was supposed to turn up?”

“I don’t like the way you’re speaking to me and I don’t have to put up with it. I’m hanging up now.”

And she did.

“Fuck!” he bit out, struggling not to throw his phone at the pool.

“Problem?”

He jumped back from the fence. “Jesus Christ.”

Celeste Bonet had appeared on the other side of it like magic.

She blinked owlishly at him. “Nope. Just me. I’m sorry if I startled you. I couldn’t help but overhear,” she gestured to his phone. “You’re without a nanny?”

He nodded. “She was supposed to start tomorrow but took another job behind my back on the other side of the country. I leave early for my commute so I need someone here to get G ready for school, take her, collect her afterward, and be here until I get home.” Foster sighed, running a hand through his hair. “How am I supposed to find someone in less than twenty-four hours?” God, he’d have to ask his mother and he hated asking his mother. She loved her granddaughter but she always made such a big deal out of it if he asked her to watch G last minute.

“I’m sure Colt will understand if you can’t go into work tomorrow.”

He shook his head. “We’re in the middle of an important deal. I need to be there.”

Celeste screwed her pretty face up in thought. She looked a lot like Ember but for some reason she didn’t make his heart pound. “I have just the solution. Ember!” She turned around to yell across the yard toward the house. “EMBER!”

He winced, glancing over his shoulder to check on G.

She picked at a muffin, watching him somberly.

He gave her a tender smile.

She smiled back.

His heart melted.

God, he never knew it was possible to love another being as much as he loved his daughter.

“What is it?”

Her mellifluous voice drew his attention back over the fence.

There she was, walking toward them in another one of those long, floaty dresses that clung to her curves but hid legs he’d discovered last night were long and fan-fucking-tastic.

“I’m running late for work,” she said, staring pointedly not at him.

“You’re going to work?”

“Michelle called in. Sasha has a fever, so I told her to go home. I’ll cover her.”

“Michelle is Ember’s No.3 at the spa,” Celeste felt the need to tell him. “I’m her No. 2 but Sundays are strictly my days off.” She narrowed her eyes on her sister. “Right?”