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  I would like you to kiss me.

  He couldn't fucking stop thinking about it, and the way her chest was rising and falling in rapid fashion in front of him was just like her unknowingly adding salt to the wound. The sight made him feel he had ended up wearing pants a tad size smaller, with how especially tight it was around the crotch, and his rigid, painfully throbbing cock fit to burst out of them any second now.

  I would like you to kiss me.

  The memory had him biting back a hiss of need. Damn if he didn't want the same thing. Most people thought he had a thing for tall, leggy blondes because they were his most frequent piece of arm candy. But the truth was, that particular type always left him cold, and it was precisely the reason why his former mistresses all looked like real-life Barbies. He would always be in control with women like them, whereas with voluptuous, dark-haired beauties....

  (Women like Tilly Wakefield)

  There was every fucking chance Logan might just end up like his father, whose life had been completely ruined by his decision to let his dick rule his supposedly mega-sized brain.

  Put a fucking end to this before it's too late.

  That was what his common sense was ordering him to do. She was a potential danger to him, being exactly his type, with her silky dark tresses, innocent eyes, and hourglass curves. Reneging on the contract he signed with Heart's Match would cost him a fortune, but at least he would be safe from the clutches of obsession. Money, he could easily recoup, but once this woman had her claws buried into him, and she turned out to be just another money-grubbing bitch like his own mother...

  Get rid of her.

  But instead, his gaze slowly moved up to take hers captive.

  He watched her swallow. Saw her chest rise and fall even more quickly than before. And then her tongue was slowly slipping out to wet her lips.

  Fuck.

  Tilly could barely breathe, much less think. The billionaire was suddenly gazing at her with hungry, dark eyes. Almost like a wolf about to eat its morsel of flesh, and oh, how she wanted to be eaten—-

  The unexpected sound of nearing footsteps startled both of them, with Tilly straightening self-consciously while the billionaire jerked away as if she was suddenly contagious.

  A moment later, one of the security guys working the graveyard shift appeared by the doorway. "Mr. Hardwall!"

  "Good morning, Sam." The billionaire's tone was calm, almost languid even, that it felt like he was daring the younger man to jump to conclusions.

  Which Sam the security guy was obviously struggling not to do, Tilly couldn't help noticing, with the way his curious glance kept flicking towards her direction.

  "Welcome, um, back, sir."

  The billionaire simply inclined his head in acknowledgment, leaving Sam to awkwardly fill the silence.

  "I shall get going. Sir. Ms. Wakefield."

  "Tilly please," she said quickly, but this only had Sam smiling rather uneasily as he backed out of view. She turned back to face the billionaire, her gaze searching his beautiful face for any clue to his thoughts. But it was as if he had this perfectly impenetrable mask on, and it was so convincing that Tilly couldn't help wondering if she had imagined those last few moments they had been alone with each other.

  Because the billionaire looking at her like she was the hottest little thing he had ever seen...

  Nah.

  That made even lesser sense.

  So she had to be imagining it—-

  "Thank you for the soup. I apologize for not being here when you and your sister arrived. I hope to make her acquaintance soon."

  Especially since the billionaire appeared abruptly and inexplicably hell-bent on getting away from her.

  "It's fine—-"

  "Perhaps we can talk more tomorrow."

  "I'd like—-"

  "Good night, Ms. Wakefield."

  "Um..."

  But she was already talking to dead air, and Tilly's voice trailed off as she was left staring blankly as the billionaire practically walked out on her, almost as if he had an urgent need to place as much distance between them...like, well...like she was the one who had suddenly turned wolf instead, and he was her prey?

  Chapter Four

  Leaves rustled, and trees slightly swayed as a cool, crisp autumn wind blew into the apple orchard and tickled the cherubic cheeks of the one-year-old toddler in Tilly's arms.

  Liam gurgled in laughter, and Tilly couldn't help cooing, "You are so, so, so cute."

  The one-year-old beamed back at her. "Cute," he repeated back, and Tilly couldn't help giving him another hug.

  "Isn't he irresistible, you guys?" she just had to ask her friends.

  "Absolutely," Harry averred.

  "If only his uncle could be just as cute," Charlotte grumbled.

  Tilly burst out laughing, and even the angelic Harry was unable to suppress her smile.

  "I'm serious, though," the other woman insisted.

  "But surely you can't mean that," Tilly exclaimed in feigned confusion. "You might as well have said it's possible for Mr. Hardwall to look anything but beautiful—-"

  Harry had trouble keeping a straight face. It just seemed so hilariously wicked and naughty every time she heard Tilly refer to her own husband as Mr. Hardwall.

  "And having studied him from every angle—-" A grave expression settled over Tilly's features. "I can only beg to disagree. Logan Hardwall, ladies and gentlemen, is physically flawless."

  And with the look of exaggerated adoration on Tilly's face, Charlotte appeared fit to throw up at the declaration, and Harry could no longer help doubling over in laughter.

  As they spent the remainder of the afternoon divided between helping Liam pick apples and preventing him from falling head first into any of the wicker baskets on the ground, thoughts of a similar vein were silently running in the back of the minds of all three women.

  Harry was mulling over Tilly's revelation about Logan not having been home for three days, which was just not like the billionaire at all. It was almost like he was running away, and from what that could be, God only knew.

  Charlotte, on the other hand, was remembering Tilly's discomfited admission about the possibility Logan didn't find her sexually attractive. The thought alone almost had her snorting. Yeah right. She and the boys had known each other since they were kids, and back then, Logan's ultimate crush had been Elizabeth Taylor in her younger days. Tiny bombshell brunettes were his greatest weakness, and he especially loved it when a girl had the face of an angel and the body of a sex siren.

  Drew Barrymore with black hair, Charlotte recalled Logan once describing his ideal woman, and...

  "Hey, Tilly?"

  "Yep?"

  "Willy told me that you were mistaken for an actress yesterday."

  "Oh. That." Tilly made a face. "I wouldn't think much of that. She obviously has poor eyesight—-"

  "I still want to hear what she had to say," Charlotte cajoled.

  "She thought I was Adam Sandler's ex-girlfriend, and that I had just dyed my hair black because I didn't want to be recognized."

  Charlotte pretended to study her friend. "Mm..."

  Tilly stuck her tongue out. "Shut up."

  "But it's true," Harry asserted earnestly. "I mean, I've been wondering myself who you remind me of, and now that Charlotte's pointed it out, the resemblance is uncanny—-"

  "Will you guys quit it—-" Tilly broke off when she noticed the rare look of discomfort on the little boy's face. Kneeling down, she took a peek at his nappy - and pulled back right after.

  Gaaah!

  Why did baby poop seem to stink so much worse than its adult version?

  "Excuse me for a moment, guys. Liam needs a quick restroom break."

  As she rose to her feet, Liam tugged on her hand, and when she glanced down, the little boy said with a toothless grin, "Race!"

  Tilly grinned. "You got it."

  Harry and Charlotte both blinked in surprise when Tilly and Liam, hand in hand, suddenl
y broke into a run. A moment later, the two women turned to each other—-

  "Shall we make it a race?" Harry asked with a grin.

  "On the count of three then..." Charlotte bent one knee. "One...two..." She sped off, saying over her shoulder, "Three!"

  "Cheater!"

  "I learned it from your husband!"

  Tilly couldn't help laughing when she heard the exchange between her friends. Harry really was the nicest person ever, someone who could never think ill of any person, while Charlotte, well...Tilly was just happy she was the other woman's friend and not her enemy.

  Either way though, life was really, really good, and Tilly absently placed a kiss on top of Liam's head as she took him back to the nursery to change his nappy.

  It had been almost a week since she and Billie had moved to Texas, and even now, she couldn't help feeling everything was this long, beautiful dream she would one day wake up from.

  Six days ago, all she knew of life was mostly hardship, having lost her parents one after another, followed by the subsequent struggle to carve out a living while scrambling for ways to keep up with the rising costs of keeping her little sister healthy.

  But then she became Logan's secret mail-order bride, and everything had changed in a blink of an eye.

  With the exception of Sam, who seemed to think of her as a puzzle to solve, everyone else only saw her as the new nanny. Despite this, Tilly had nothing to complain about, with the life she was leading now a huge improvement over her previous existence.

  In the past, Tilly used to suffer panic attacks all on her own, worrying if the day would come that she wouldn't find enough part-time gigs to augment her wages as Mr. Hodge's private cook, and Billie would die because of her.

  But now...it was so much better.

  She would never have to worry again about earning enough to put food on the table, pay for regular check-ups, and settle the bills that regularly arrived at her mailbox like clockwork.

  Logan Hardwall had already given her so much, Tilly thought guiltily. Wouldn't it be too greedy of her to wish that they could fall in love with each other, too?

  When Tilly returned to the patio, a newly-washed Liam in her arms, she saw that the two women were huddled together on the couch, with Heart's Match CEO looking particularly vexed.

  "You're still talking about Logan," she guessed.

  "Hmph."

  Plopping down on the armchair, she couldn't help defending her billionaire boss-slash-husband, saying, "I really appreciate you guys being concerned about me, but maybe this is just a storm in a hiccup. Maybe he simply needs more time to process things. He might be used to solving financial crises and what not, but you have to admit: figuring out what to do with a secret wife and a surprise toddler doesn't exactly fall under day-to-day problems."

  "Would you like us to talk to him for you?" Harry asked.

  Tilly hastily shook her head. "Since he basically asked for a wife who would stay out of his way, I don't think he'll look kindly on having someone nag at him on my behalf."

  Harry's shoulders drooped. "You're right."

  "Maybe..." Charlotte's tone was reluctant. "Maybe it's going to help if I told you a little more about his background. Maybe you can come up with something that I can't think of since I'm not his wife..."

  Chapter Five

  Once upon a time, a young Apache boy had been granted a scholarship and the means to leave the reserve and start a new life. He embraced this opportunity wholeheartedly, determined to make his dream come true, and people who knew him believed it would be so. He had the brains and the will to work. How could such a boy not go places?

  The answer: all too easily, and the only thing he had to do was fall in love.

  With a wife to support and a baby on the way, the boy turned his back on his dreams and settled for mediocrity.

  Goals that used to be well within his reach became impossible, the fire in him that used to burn so brightly fading with every day that passed. And when the girl he loved left him for another, that fire in him completely died, and the boy, who was now a man, lost himself in bitter despair..

  His son, too young to understand what was right or wrong, could only listen and believe as his father cursed and lamented his greatest folly. He had let love stand in the way of his dreams, and his life of misfortune was the price he must pay for it.

  Before the old man passed away, he made his son promise not to follow in his footsteps, and the son gave his word to do as his father asked.

  Love would have no claim on his heart, no place in his life, because love was nothing but a cage for one's ambitions.

  "WE'RE HERE, MS. WAKEFIELD."

  The driver's words drew Tilly out of her troubled thoughts, and she self-consciously threaded her fingers through her hair as she checked her reflection in the rearview mirror. Dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail, face bare of makeup except for a dab of coral lipstick, and a V-necked dress.

  She looked okay.

  Just...okay.

  And that was exactly why she owed it to Logan to do the right thing.

  Fixing a smile on her lips, Tilly thanked Charlotte's driver for giving her a ride before stepping out of her friend's limousine. She took her time climbing the steps leading up to the high-rise building that Logan and his friends co-owned, but her trepidation still came back in full force by the time she entered the high-ceilinged lobby and found herself horribly underdressed.

  The receptionist looked at her from head to toe when Tilly came up to the counter, and she was left with the impression that her appearance didn't quite make the cut. She was H&M, this establishment was YSL, and wearing clothes with the right acronyms apparently meant everything to the other woman.

  Not that there was anything wrong with H&M, Tilly mused ruefully. It used to be that she could only afford to shop there when the store had a clearance sale, and being secretly married to a billionaire wasn't enough to make her forget that.

  "May I help you?" The receptionist had finally deigned to speak, and her voice practically dripped with snooty distaste.

  "I'm here to see Mr. Hardwall." Tilly's smile didn't even slip as she was made to endure a lip-curling look of condescension. After surviving Caryn for over a year, she could survive anything.

  "Do you mean Mr. Logan Hardwall of Hardwall Industries?"

  "Yes, I do." The receptionist couldn't be more aghast, and Tilly had trouble smothering her laugh.

  "And do you have an appointment?"

  "Not really, but if you could tell him his nephew's nanny is here..."

  "Oh." The receptionist's face cleared. "You're the nanny."

  "Yes, I am," she said cheerfully, "and being a nanny is not a disease, you know."

  "No, of course not." The reception's voice was condescending.

  "Nannies get to live with their billionaire bosses, after all."

  The receptionist - Tessa, her nameplate said - looked like she had swallowed poison now.

  "And once the baby falls asleep, the things that could go bump in the night can get really fun..." She winked at Tessa, who now looked like she was ready to keel over. "If you know what I mean?"

  "I do not." Tessa practically snarled each word out.

  "That's too bad. You should live some more, you know?" Pretending not to notice the murderous look on Tessa's face, she looked around, asking brightly, "So where should I wait?"

  The receptionist wordlessly snatched the receiver and began jabbing buttons. To say that Tessa was enraged would be an understatement, and it almost had Tilly regretting deliberately setting the other woman off.

  Almost.

  The other woman had it coming for being such a stuck-up witch, and maybe after this, Tessa wouldn't be as nasty the next time a nanny came knocking on her counter.

  All in a day's work as Mrs. Hardwall, Tilly thought, even if today might be her last day as the billionaire's wife.

  HOW THE MIGHTY HAVE fallen, Jim privately thought to himself as he watched Logan twitch re
stlessly in his seat for the nth time in the past five minutes. In the seventeen years he had been working for the younger man, not once had he seen the billionaire this restless.

  And to think it was all because of a woman.

  The first time he had seen Logan acting out of character, he had thought that the billionaire either had ants in his pants or he was struggling with the rare and unfamiliar feeling of being cockblocked.

  And under normal circumstances, Jim would have thought both scenarios completely inconceivable. Or if he had to make a choice, then he would have bet his money on the billionaire suffering from ant bites in his ass rather than consider the possibility of any sane woman saying no to Logan.

  But these were not normal circumstances.

  For starters, Logan had actually been sleeping on his office couch for the past six nights. It had made no sense at all, considering how much the man loved his ranch at Evergreen. Or if he didn't think he could spare the time to travel in and out of San Antonio, then there was any number of hotels downtown to choose from. So why stay at the office, like he didn't want to risk anyone thinking he wasn't spending the night alone if he were to book a hotel suite?

  It had puzzled Jim to no end until an hour ago, when he had received Mrs. Montgomery's call about the nanny. All the puzzle pieces had quickly fallen into place after that, and so when said nanny finally arrived—-

  Logan came to his feet in an instant at Jim's words. "The nanny is what?"

  "Here, sir," Logan's 58-year-old executive assistant repeated with exaggerated patience. "She's come here to see you, and she's currently waiting for you at the lobby."

  The billionaire shoved his hands into his pockets in a futile effort to keep himself from driving his fist into something. "What the fuck is she here for?"

  "Shall I instruct reception to ask this, or perhaps you'd prefer to have the nanny answer a questionnaire—-"

  "Will you quit it with the wisecracks?" Logan snarled.