Crystal Green - The Texas Billionaire's Bride / The Texas Bodyguard's Proposal - The Texas Billionaire's Bride

Then he spied Livie next to her nanny, holding Melanie Grandy’s hand, and paused.

Livie.

Guilt consumed him until he banished it, focusing instead on the anger because it was so much simpler to understand.

He unlocked the door, yanked it open, and the force of the motion made the warm air outside stir Melanie Grandy’s hair.

The soft-as-silk strands that he’d been fantasizing about…

“Hello,” she said as calmly as you please, with a polite smile to match.

But Livie’s grin was much more excited as she said, “Hi, Daddy!” and held up a light blue construction-paper card decorated with feathers and sequins and doodads.

It read “Happy Father’s Day!”

The sight almost brought him to his knees, and that made him even angrier.

Still, he gently took the card from Livie, giving her all he could with a half smile that he hoped expressed everything he wasn’t able to say out loud, because he knew emotions and investment in them would only backfire someday.

When he didn’t say anything else, Livie’s smile faltered.

Dammit. Dammit to hell.

But he didn’t know how else to handle her.

The helplessness got to him again, and he refocused his frustration on a less vulnerable target.

The nanny.

“I don’t remember arranging a trip out here,” he said, his teeth clenched because he was trying so hard to rein in his temper.

And his inadequacy as a father.

She didn’t back down even an inch. “Father’s Day is tomorrow, and we thought we’d wish you a happy one. Livie made you a gift, too.”

He could see the nanny squeeze his daughter’s hand, urging Livie to present a slim box to him. But the child seemed reluctant to do so after how he’d responded to her card.

He couldn’t blame her.

Unable to stand himself, he relented just this once and bent down to Livie, accepting the box, then opening it to find a hand-sewn tie made out of flannel R2-D2 material.

Livie spoke up quietly. “Ms. Grandy helped me.”

“It’s made out of pajamas she’d grown out of,” the nanny said.

God help him. He just stared at the gift, thinking he’d never seen anything so wonderful in his life.

But when he glanced at his daughter, he saw Danielle’s smile—the sweet, innocent expression his own wife had worn when they were young.

Back then, it had been so easy to think everything was going to be okay. Yet, then hell had hit, and he’d realized that he should’ve been so much more careful.

He tried to say something to Livie, failed, then tried again, even though the words scraped on the way out.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he finally managed, touching her cheek.

“You’re welcome.”

He could see in her eyes that she wanted more than just a thank you, so he awkwardly held open his arms.

She hesitated, but Melanie Grandy helped out by guiding Livie forward.

When his daughter fell against him, he closed his eyes, squeezing her tight. Probably too tight, because she backed away and went back to holding her nanny’s hand.

His own daughter, preferring a near stranger.

But that’s what he was, wasn’t he?

If thoughts could make a person bleed, he’d be dying.

“Why don’t you go inside, Livie?” he said, his tone measured. “The TV’s on.”

“TV?” she asked, clearly intrigued about an activity she rarely got to indulge in.

He gestured for her to enter, and after she did, he tried to contain himself in front of his guest.

But there was too much to bottle up: the frustration, the shock of his unwelcome attraction to her, the barely quelled rage of both combined.

He dragged his gaze over to meet hers, and the flash of her blue eyes twisted into him.

His words were low and tight. “You’ve been making ties and cards instead of concentrating on schoolwork?”

She furrowed her brow. “Mr. Foley, Livie’s out of school for the summer.”

Mortified by not realizing that, he found a million other reasons to still be put out with the nanny.

“And what did you expect to accomplish by bringing her?”

She smiled oh-so innocuously. “Aside from the fact that you have a new tie, she wanted to wish you a Happy Father’s Day. In person. Coming here was a gift to her, too.”

Was this woman brazen enough to be pointing out his shortcomings to his face?

No one had dared before—not until after they were out of his employment.

Before he could erupt, she added, “We got a late start on driving, mostly because when I called your number, an assistant answered and said you wouldn’t be home until after seven.”

“Then you’d best get back to Austin, since it’s a long ride.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, and her agenda hit him square in the middle of the forehead.

“You set this up so I’d feel compelled to have you both overnight,” he said. “Is that it?”

“I didn’t think it’d be such an imposition. She’s your daughter, not a nuisance.”

He shook his head, ready to terminate her employment. But…

Dammit all, he didn’t have time to go through another nanny search. He’d felt terrible enough after his daughter lost yet another caretaker. Besides, switching nannies so often did nothing for her structure, and Livie seemed to really be getting on well with this one.

But in the back of his thoughts, he wondered if there was another reason he was hesitating to let Melanie Grandy go…

Hell no.

Not even remotely.

Still, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, the nanny was right. It was the eve of Father’s Day, and what kind of dad would he be to turn out his daughter?

Holding up a finger, he said, “One night, and I’m only agreeing to it because I don’t want you driving Livie home in the dark all that way.”

“Fair enough.”

Maybe he should add more for good measure. “I’m extremely busy, and I don’t want either of you underfoot.”

Hollow, he thought. It all sounded as hollow as he felt.

“I understand,” she said, her smile strained.

Then she turned around to retrieve two suitcases—one scuffed, one pristine.

Melanie Grandy’s and Livie’s baggage, he thought. But he wasn’t about to let it become his own.

After entering, the nanny set the suitcases by the circular staircase, then immediately went to Livie. He took up the luggage, intending to get it out of the way and into the upstairs guest rooms, where he wouldn’t have to look at it. His own bedroom was on the ground floor, so it would keep him removed, just the way he wanted it.

Yet, when he came back downstairs to hear his daughter and her nanny laughing about something or another on TV, he found himself walking toward them.

But then he changed direction, moving toward the sanctuary of his study.

But he could still hear them.

And weirdly enough, he kind of liked the sound.

That night, Melanie couldn’t sleep. Not with Zane Foley in the same townhouse.

She lay in the guest bedroom with the sheets tangled around her legs, trying to find a position that worked.

But she was restless, unable to stop thinking about him. And when she paired the stimulation of just being in the same pheromonal range as Zane Foley with the fact that she hadn’t been intimate with a man for a long time, this resulted in one wide-awake woman.

For a while, she’d dated a Vegas bartender who nursed ambitions to open his own place, and the relationship had gotten serious enough, so that she’d developed what she’d believed could become serious feelings—at least until he dumped her. Otherwise, over the years, she spent her emotions wisely, knowing that sex didn’t feel right unless there were fireworks during kisses, and dreams of being with that man for the rest of her life.