Page 11 of Obsessed Mr. O’Brian

Every cell in my body jolts to life even as my soul cries out at the cruelty of fate.

As his shock gives way to incredulity, I brace for the inevitable rejection, but it still hurts more than I can express.

“No,” he says the moment Mrs. Xaner stops to breathe.

“Mr. O’Brian, I assure you Ms. Grant is—”

“No,” he interrupts.

“She’s the most qualified certified-nurse nanny in New York and the third most sought after in the entire northeastern United States,” my agent says.

“I don’t care. My answer is no,” Artur snarls.

He turns to leave. I stand.

“May I have a word with Mr. O’Brian? Alone, please.”

Despite the shaking of my bones, I inject enough purpose into my voice to halt his retreat.

If Lola needs a nurse nanny, she deserves the very best. Me. I know from the depths of my soul I’m meant to be her caretaker. Even though our time together yesterday was brief, I already adore her. Whatever remains between Artur and me doesn’t matter. I will not risk his daughter’s health over our problems.

Mrs. Xaner looks between me and Artur’s back. I firm my spine and lean my palm on the conference table.

“You’ve already broken protocol, Mrs. Xaner. Humor me for his daughter’s sake,” I insist.

When Artur stiffens but doesn’t stomp away, she takes a deep breath and rolls her shoulders back.

“I can leave the room as long as you’re both aware everything you say is recorded,” she states.

“Of course, Mrs. Xaner. Mr. O’Brian, if you would, please have a seat,” I demand in the politest voice I can manage.

It isn’t until he turns and spotlights me in his golden gaze that I realize the folly of my ways.

If he accepts me as his daughter’s nanny, I’ll have to not only care for my late friend’s daughter, but I’ll also come face-to-face with his disdain every day.

I lift my chin in challenge and wait for his response.

Nothing will stop me from ensuring Lola O’Brian receives the best care available.

Nothing.

Not even facing the hatred of the only man who ever made my heart skip a beat.

Chapter 6

Artur O’Brian

The surety in Millie’s pale blue eyes pulls me into the room before I regain control of myself. With measured movements, I pull out the nearest chair and sit as though preparing for a bidding war.

Sitting across from her, an unfamiliar sensation creeps along my nerve endings, and it isn’t until I lean forward and feel the sweat gathering in my armpits that I recognize it as nervousness. I haven’t experienced this level of apprehension since I started my own business eight years ago.

I tell myself it’s due to all the trauma I suffered because of her and not that my cock throbs with want and a small, insistent part of me longs to reach out and pull her close.

I rest my forearms on the table and hold her gaze. She doesn’t shrink back or look away despite the intensity of my stare.

The tension in the room skyrockets, but she doesn’t rush to fill the silence. Instead, she folds her hands in her lap and speaks with envious calm.

“Beyond my wardrobe malfunction—for which I sincerely apologize—have I done something to offend you?”