Page 3 of The Billionaire's Distraction

Naomisighedheavilyandleaned against the boys’ door.“Thank goodness,” she whispered to herself, letting the tension melt away from her shoulders.The evening nanny had finally arrived and Naomi was free.Herding those two through the late afternoon schedule was like trying to wrestle caffeinated squirrels into pajamas.She pushed away and padded down the hall, her ponytail swishing against the collar of her shirt.

It was six-fifteen—late again.The evening nanny should have arrived fifteen minutes ago.Typical.But now Naomi was off, free for the evening.She grabbed her worn tote bag and jacket, shrugging into both as she slipped through the back door.Or the “servants’ entrance,” as Mr.Peterson liked to sneer.The description made her teeth clench every time.

Naomi followed the cobblestone path, heading for the bus stop.Her long hair, glossy and silky, was bound tightly at the nape of her neck in the simple ponytail she always wore while working.It kept her hair out of the way when she bent to tie shoelaces, break up fights, or rescue peanut butter sandwiches from being hurled in a pretend science experiment to discover if “peanut butter always landed peanut butter side down”.Practical, but she was unaware of how it framed her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and the soft curve of her full lips.Her eyes, a startling shade of clear blue-green, were her best feature.She’d been told once they looked like they could see straight through a person, which generally made misbehaving children think twice.

She was halfway to the sidewalk when a figure stepped out of the bushes.

Naomi startled, sucking in a sharp breath.Her hand tightened around her tote, pulling it protectively against her side.

“Are they okay?”the bedraggled woman asked, her voice brittle with desperation.

Naomi immediately stepped back, wary.The woman’s clothes were rumpled, her hair dull and unkempt, her shoulders heavy and slumped slightly, like someone who was beaten down by life.

“Excuse me?”she snapped, taken aback by the woman’s sudden appearance.But she looked vaguely familiar, although Naomi couldn’t immediately place where she’d seen the woman before.“Who are you?”Naomi asked, her tone firm, ready to defend herself if needed.

The stranger pawed through her battered purse, extracting a wallet and flipping it open.“I’m Melissa Peterson,” she explained in an almost frantic, desperate tone.Then, with shaking hands, she pulled out a card and held it toward Naomi.“I’m not a threat.I promise.”

Naomi hesitated briefly before accepting the card.A driver’s license.The woman in the photo looked entirely different—her hair was neat, her smile warm and bright, her whole expression open and confident.A woman with hope in her eyes.The woman in front of Naomi was hollowed out, her voice thin, her hands shaking.

“Ms.Peterson, I can’t—”

“Just—are my boys okay?”Melissa’s voice cracked, and she reclaimed her license, shoving it quickly back into her wallet as if embarrassed.“They aren’t hurt, are they?I haven’t seen them in four months.I just need to know they’re okay.”

Naomi’s heart squeezed.Four months?Good grief.She softened, her initial alarm giving way to compassion.

“They’re fine,” Naomi replied cautiously.“They’re eating well, getting lots of exercise, and are doing well at their lessons.”She smiled gently.“The boys are healthy, hale, and hearty.”

“No…bruises?”Melissa whispered, her eyes flicking warily up to the windows, as though bracing for the answer.

Naomi shook her head firmly.“No.They’re fine.Rambunctious, yes.But…fine.”She didn’t mention the bullying she’d seen at the playground or her suspicion that Tom Peterson encouraged it.Not when this woman already looked like she carried the weight of the world.

Melissa sagged with relief.“Good.That’s good.”For the first time, she offered a fragile wisp of a smile.“If you have a chance…” Her voice trailed off.She shook her head and sighed.“Never mind, just—thank you.Thank you for caring for them.I know they can be a challenge sometimes, but they are good boys.”

Naomi found herself smiling in return, though her chest tightened at the woman’s quiet, grasping hope.She nodded, wishing she could say more.Wishing she could promise more.

Before she could speak, a shadow loomed.A man stepped out from the sidewalk, tall—easily over six feet, broad-shouldered and clean shaven with short, dark hair.His facial features were carved from stone, angular, intimidating, and his eyes—dark and fierce—locked on the scene with sharp intensity.

“Everything okay?”His voice was low, with a hint of a growl, the kind that slid over her skin and sent shivers running down her spine.

Melissa flinched, shrinking guiltily away as if she’d been caught stealing.“Everything is fine,” she squeaked, eyes wide.“Please, don’t tell my ex-husband I was here.He’ll…just please.”Her words poured out in a rush.“I only wanted to know if my boys were okay.That he hadn’t…hurt them.”

And then she was gone, hurrying away, nearly tripping over her own feet in her rush.She caught herself and didn’t stop until she vanished into the shadows, glancing back only once, her expression a mix of longing and fear.

Naomi stood frozen, her tote clutched tightly against her stomach, her heart racing.She turned to the man beside her, questions bubbling up that she wasn’t sure she wanted answered.

“Did she hurt you?”the man asked.

Naomi shot him a startled glance, her stunned gaze skimming over the hard planes of his face, the strong, clean-shaven jaw, and the breadth of his shoulders that stretched the fabric of his shirt.Heat curled low in her stomach, traitorous and unwelcome.

“No.Absolutely not,” she replied quickly, though her pulse wouldn’t settle.

Ms.Peterson might have been desperate, possibly even unhinged, but this man…he was the real danger.Unfortunately, it was the kind of danger that drew her in instead of pushing her away.It clung to him in the quiet strength of his frame, in the way he didn’t need to move or speak loudly to command attention.And most of all, in those dark, watchful eyes—intense and steady, making her feel as though he could see far more than she wanted to share.

“What did she want?”His tone was even, but threaded with something softer, which made her stomach tighten.

It took Naomi a moment to remember what he was talking about.Her thoughts stuttered, frantically trying to recall, even though he was talking about her interaction with the desperate mother thirty seconds ago.“Um… she just asked if her children were healthy,” Naomi answered, hitching her tote higher on her shoulder.She should go.She knew she should turn and walk away.But those eyes pinned her in place.Intense, steady, like he could strip away every excuse and every mask she owned.She couldn’t move.Worse—she didn’t want to.

Hoping to ease the tension, she shifted awkwardly, pasting what she hoped was a polite smile on her face.“I’ve seen you around,” she blurted, then winced at how awkward it sounded.“I mean—I know you live nearby.”Brilliant, Naomi.State the obvious to the hot but scary man.