“Dear Ms. Lamb,” Libby read, “as you probably know, thanks to your friendship with Charlotte Ames and Penny Fennimore, I’m tasked with finding a nanny match for Erasmus Cress. I believe you’d be an excellent candidate to assist him in caring for his six-year-old son, Sebastian.” Libby rested the mobile in her lap and turned to him. “Your son’s name is Sebastian?”
“It is.” He stared into the depths of her amber eyes. They welled with such kindness it nearly cracked his cocksure mask.
“Is he like you?” she pressed.
He wasn’t expecting her to ask him that. And how was he supposed to answer? He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Not if I can help it.”
It hurt like hell to admit, but he couldn’t lie to her.
The kindness in her eyes morphed into a curious glint.
“Does that make the job more or less attractive?” he asked.
Was he considering this? Did he want this yoga nutter to become part of his life?
The uptick in his pulse and the semi he had going on in his boxing trunks answered for him. He shifted his weight on the bench, then forced himself to imagine what Granny Fin would say if she learned he’d been hauled into an American police station for lewd behavior. Now there’s the way to wreck one’s libido.
His cock should be the last thing on his mind. Unfortunately, when it came to Libby Lamb, his cock had quite an appreciation for her perfect arse and that bloody cute as hell button nose.
He zeroed in on Madelyn, resolving to push any lewd thoughts of the yoga beauty out of his mind. “I figured there would be more drama in the whole nanny selection process,” he said, schooling his features.
Madelyn surveyed the hallway as two cops wrangling a large unruly man lumbered past them. “I think you’ll both agree that you’ve added enough drama for one night. You are, of course, on the brink of incarceration.”
Bollocks!
Between Libby’s amber eyes, the semi between his legs, and Madelyn Malone ambushing them in the bloody police station, he’d nearly forgotten that he was on the cusp of being charged with disturbing the peace and lewd behavior.
“Despite your rocky start, I have some good news. I’ve arranged a remedy for your precarious situation,” the woman added.
“A remedy?” Libby echoed when an officer walked up to them.
“This is for you, Ms. Malone,” the policewoman said, then handed the nanny matchmaker a note. Madelyn scanned the slip of paper, then nodded as her lips twisted into a knowing smirk. “And the chief will see you and your clients now,” the officer finished before heading down the hall.
“Excellent,” Madelyn remarked, dropping the paper into her purse. “Let’s have a chat with Letty.”
“Letty?” he asked as he and Libby came to their feet.
“Letty Ramirez, Denver’s Chief of Police,” Madelyn answered casually.
He shared a look with Libby. “You’re friends with the chief of police?”
“I have many, many friends,” the woman answered with a nonchalant flick of her wrist before heading down the hallway.
“Raz, what’s happening?” Libby asked, grabbing her bag of sex toys as they hurried to keep up with the well-connected senior citizen.
He ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know.”
“You didn’t know about the match—about me?”
He was still reeling from that revelation. Sure, Madelyn had sent the email, but he only checked his inbox a few times a day. And what would have happened if he’d seen the matchmaker’s note? Would he have hired Libby to be his son’s nanny? Then again, Libby hadn’t agreed to anything yet, either. Nothing was set in stone. What did he want? He didn’t know. In the last hour, his entire world had been turned upside down.
“Raz?” she whispered, and God help him. He liked hearing her say his name.
Bugger! Get it together.
“Madelyn mentioned she’d found a candidate a few weeks ago. She didn’t say anything about the nanny’s identity. Rowen offered to hack into Madelyn’s mobile to learn more, but Penny wouldn’t let him.”
Libby released a nervous little laugh, then stilled. “It sounds like them.”
“It does,” he replied, studying her face. He forgot what it was like to have this with a woman. Back in school, he and Mere had quite a social circle. Pints at the pub, laughing as they traded stories and gave each other shit. Back in the day, when he didn’t worry about the press or sponsors or titles—back when there was joy, real make-you-smile-the-moment-you-woke-up joy.
Do not go there.
He released a shaky breath. This couldn’t work—not with Libby Lamb. How the hell was he supposed to concentrate with her buzzing around his orbit, wearing form-fitting yoga clothes and those little sports bras. This gold number she had on was already doing a number on him. A bloody twenty-four-seven hard-on would zap his energy before he’d even donned his boxing gloves.
“We don’t want to keep the chief waiting. Not when your freedom hangs in the balance,” Madelyn called, gesturing for them to hurry up.
How did he keep forgetting that good old Mr. Short Cop and Mr. Tall Cop didn’t look keen on letting them bugger off scot-free?
Madelyn knocked on a mahogany door with Chief Letitia Ramirez stenciled in bold white letters. “I’m back, Letty.”
Back? What had Madelyn and the chief discussed?
Madelyn opened the door for them to enter. “Go on.”
“Have a seat. I’m Chief Ramirez. I presume you’re Libby Lamb, and you’re Erasmus Cress,” the chief said, pointing to a set of chairs in front of her imposing desk. Letitia Ramirez crossed her arms. With her dark hair pulled into a tight bun, the woman’s sharp, stone-faced demeanor gave nothing away. “You’re fortunate that Madelyn speaks so highly of the two of you. I respect her opinion.” The woman leaned forward. “How about we cut to the chase?”
“Okay,” he answered, anticipation nearly tearing him apart as he shared a look with Libby.
“There is a way to chalk up tonight’s charges as a misunderstanding,” the chief explained, and bloody hell, that was a relief.
“That’s exactly what it was, Chief Ramirez, a misunderstanding,” he answered as Libby nodded. And bugger all, they were in the clear. He’d have to thank his granny Fin for introducing him to Madelyn. The woman and her vast collection of connections were worth her weight in bloody gold.
“And we’re happy to do whatever you ask of us,” Libby added.
“Are you up for volunteering to help the city?” the chief pressed, sharing a look with Madelyn, who stood a few feet away from them, observing closely.
At the mention of volunteering, he couldn’t help but think of Mere.
What would she say if she could see him now?
“Absolutely, we’d be happy to volunteer,” Libby answered, pulling him from his thoughts. He needed to be grateful they were getting off with a bit of community service. He could manage that. Hell, Briggs would probably find a way to publicize it.
“But understand this,” the chief continued, “if you choose to decline the offer, you will be charged and booked.”
“We understand, Chief Ramirez,” he answered.