Page 16 of Obsessed Mr. O’Brian

I’ve maintained strict professionalism ever since my one and only sleepwalking incident at a client’s house. Once the shock of waking with my patient’s uncle groping me wore off, I realized any amount of familiarity could lead to inappropriate behavior, so I haven’t called a client or their family members by their first name in ten years.

I shouldn’t break the streak now, but I can’t stop my mouth any more than I can erase Lola’s discomfort.

“Okay, Artur, deep breaths and calm thoughts. Children read emotions better than we do, so she’s feeling your fear just as much as you are.”

“I’m calm,” he snarls.

A snort escapes me, jostling Lola’s face between my breasts. Her fists pull my normally loose and flowy blouse tight over my chest. She takes advantage and wriggles deeper to create as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. Her forehead against my exposed sternum is comfortably warm, smooth, and dry.

I shove my mirth aside and speak with as much gentle understanding as I can while keeping an edge of command in my voice.

“You are quiet, but you are not calm. Relax your muscles and repeat after me.” Golden orbs squint down at me through impossibly thick eyelashes. “My daughter, Lola, is amazing, smart, resilient, and strong,” I prompt.

Surprise lifts his brows. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Heat floods my panties. I curse my filthy mind but force my body to remain lax. Even with Lola in my lap, I feel too exposed and vulnerable with his massive frame pressed against my side.

With visible effort, he softens his expression and drains the tension from his spine as he repeats what I said.

“My daughter, Lola, is amazing, smart, resilient, and strong,” he says through a thick throat.

I smile in encouragement and continue.

“She is not alone. I am here and surrounding her with love and support.”

His hand gentles on her back as he finally drops his shoulders.

“She is not alone. I am here and surrounding her with love and support,” he rumbles.

“Good job, sir.”

I cringe internally at the formality, but the intimacy of the moment is too much for my fantastical mind, so I shy away from emotions by fulfilling my end of the bargain and explaining my suspicions.

“I noticed her movements weren’t as coordinated as yesterday and she was more flushed too, so when she squinted and took a little longer than I would have expected to recognize you, I suspected she was seeing auras,” I say.

“You saw her for less than ten seconds,” he argues.

“I’ve been fully certified for eight years, a nanny for eleven, and took care of my medically complex baby brother before then. I don’t need ten seconds to sense something is wrong,” I murmur.

When Artur hesitates, I realize I revealed too much.

I never intended to keep my brother a secret from him and Regina, but when Artur aimed so much hatred at me when I visited him in the hospital a few days after the accident, I walked away without another word.

“You’re her father, not her caretaker,” I say. By the narrowing of his eyes, I surmise he believes he should be absolutely everything for his daughter, so I continue. “What she needs from you isn’t for you to worry about every little thing—that’s my job now.” He flattens his lips into a thin line, but a sliver of relief shines in his amber eyes. “Your job is to just be present. Be here. Be with her.” When his skepticism grows, I sigh and use terms he’ll understand. “A successful CEO doesn’t handle the day-to-day management of their company; they hire people with the necessary skills and train them to run the company in a way that meets their vision. I am that employee. Lola is your passion project.” The corner of his lips tilts upward. He swallows and changes his pattern on her back to a circle. His palm is so large he moves her entire body despite his gentle touch. “Support her no matter what happens. Let me take care of the details. That’s the balance she needs,” I finish.

For a few moments, we sit in silence.

“You know what happens if the employee doesn’t meet expectations, right?” Artur growls.

A block of ice settles behind my sternum. Before I can nod, he shocks me with his next words.

“You’re not what I expected, Millie,” he admits.

My name on his lips drains every thought from my skull, and I blink up at him like a mindless doll.

“I’m not sure Lola will let me treat you as a regular employee and honestly…” The tenderness shining from his golden orbs and oozing from his tone drops my stomach into my toes. Never in a million years did I expect to hear Artur O’Brian speak to me in such a gentle voice again. “I’m not sure I—”

Every cell in my body jolts to full alertness as Lola goes unnaturally limp.

Chapter 8