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No problem.
She acted quickly and grabbed the cardigan from her handbag, which she had left on a chair, and put it on.
Her gaze followed Zachary as he picked up the empty bottle of alcohol. It really was an unusual bottle with its dragon detail.
"Yeah, you can’t have alcohol lying around with kids. It’s not Lucas’ fault. He thought it was dragon juice. I’ll gladly replace the bottle. Sorry about the mess, though. We had a bit of a situation, but everything is under control now."
After pulling the front of the cardigan closed over her boobs, she stuck her hand out.
This was her taking charge of the situation.
"Dakota Turner," she said. At the casino, they were only known as "Jones’ girls" and not by their names. The three men before her wouldn't have known her from a broken pair of shoes lying on the street in the middle of a hailstorm. That’s how irrelevant she was to them.
"I’m the new nanny."
Chapter Five
They were not going to fuck their new nanny, Michael Newman reiterated once more. His friends and business partners, Preston Reyes and Zachary West concurred. Again.
It didn’t matter that every single part of her had the ability, if they allowed it, to make each one of them rock hard and mind-numbingly hungry for her the instant they had laid eyes on her in their living room.
They didn't expect their new nanny to be wearing nothing but a bra that barely covered her beautiful, full breasts and their $5 million bottle of vodka dripping from her skin.
Her dark chocolate-colored hair flowed like a river of silk all around her. They’d immediately imagined her tresses tangled around their wrist as they put her on her knees so she could take their cocks into her sweet mouth.
Her eyes, big and thick-fringed golden-blue orbs, had sunk into him, and he knew Preston and Zachary had experienced the same kind of shift beneath their feet.
Then she turned around and dug in her bag, and her skirt, white with little orange flowers on it, clung wetly to her perfectly round ass and outlined the tiny pair of g-string panties she wore, all for their viewing pleasure.
They deserved to be called saints for summoning up enough control not to get hard at the sight she presented.
But fuck, she was their nanny now.
They were not going to touch her. It had been decided unanimously, though silently, right in front of her.
The reality was that they were dads now, whether they wanted to be or not. They had the responsibility of taking care of three kids now, despite not having any fucking idea how to do it.
It did seem strange that they had met two different women in two days who had somehow affected them on a level they had thought untouchable.
The girl from Jones’ casino had been the other one.
They had their heads in the game; they were serious about their poker, but they had noticed her—everything about her. Now they hadn’t been able to get her out of their heads and had every intention of cutting some sort of deal with Jones for her.
Except when Michael, Preston and Zachary—the men he would die for without a moment's hesitation and who would do the same for him—returned home after a night of high-stakes gambling, they found a complete stranger on their doorstep with their foster sister’s three kids in tow and adoption papers ready to sign.
They were still having a hard time digesting what their foster sister, Annabelle Moroonie, had decided to do with six-year-old Lucas, four-year-old Charlotte, and six-month-old baby Daisy.
Once they had turned eighteen and were able to leave the system, Michael, Preston, and Zachary vowed not to sleep until they had taken over the world.
And they had. Real estate was where they had started. Now they had interests in almost every area of enterprise and were currently featured as some of the richest people on the planet.
They never forgot where they came from—not for one second. While their foster parents had been real bastards to them, they made sure to look after their foster sister, Annabelle, until the day she died.
She could have had the world at her feet. She did. On her own, she was worth a few hundred million dollars thanks to them, but Anna preferred to live life her way. Money didn’t interest her.
She was pregnant by the age of eighteen and living with her drummer boyfriend on the other side of town, and she was surprisingly happy with the way things were for her. By twenty-five, she’d had two more kids. But her drummer boyfriend had snuck out on her in the middle of the night some time ago, leaving her with the kids. She hadn’t been the same since then.
Now she was ready to sign over adoption papers for her kids so she could pursue her own music career. She’d been offered a place in a band that was going on tour, and she didn’t want to miss the opportunity.
