The Billionaire's Rules: A Grumpy Boss and Nanny Contract Romance

"Curiosity is a dangerous game, Miss Evans." I froze. Slowly, I turned around to find the billionaire himself standing just inches away, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his tailored trousers. I braced myself for his notorious temper, but his sculpted face was a mask of cold, unreadable calm. With slow, deliberate steps, he advanced. I retreated—until my back hit the solid wood of the forbidden door. He didn't yell. Instead, he leaned in, planting one large hand on the wall beside my head, trapping me. "What was rule number three, Miss Evans?" His voice was a lethal whisper, his face hovering so dangerously close to mine that the air vanished from my lungs. My mind went blank, entirely consumed by the intoxicating proximity between us. "I asked you a question," he murmured. "T-that there are... prohibited areas in the house. Rooms I shouldn't enter." "It seems you remember the rules," he replied, his gaze dropping to my lips. "This room is one of them. Next time, think very carefully before you invite trouble." I couldn't look away from those piercing, sea-colored eyes. No man had ever made my pulse race like this. It was a terrifying, electric feeling—one I had never experienced before.