Her Secret Baby: A Forbidden Romance

By S.E. Law

Regina: I was hired to be a nanny to Ryan Blythe’s children. The recently-divorced CEO has five kids and needed household help fast. But Mr. Blythe gets under my skin. He’s such a gorgeous a$$hole with those fierce blue eyes and knowing smirk. So why do I want to kiss that hard, demanding mouth?


Ryan: When the agency sent a nanny over, I expected someone homely and plain. I never expected to open the door to the sassy, curvy, and utterly beautiful Regina Frank. But one thing leads to another and soon, she’s not just my nanny … she’s getting a surprise and her belly will be big by the time we’re done.


This is a secret baby second chance romance where our hero already has five kids, so he’s not exactly looking for more. But after he knocks up the gorgeous nanny on his doorstep, will he reconsider? Get your fire extinguisher out because you’ll need it to cool off after reading this taboo romance. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and always a HEA for my readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.E. Law Romance Author
• Release date: Jan 3, 2021

Book preview

readers.

1

Regina

I pull my Honda Civic up to the house and smile at the reflection of my face in the rearview mirror. But then I frown, when an accidental glance at the side mirror shows the rest of my body. I don’t dwell. I never do. Nonetheless, the insecurities are ever-present, like the curves that are the bane of my life. They remind me that no amount of diet or exercise will ever give me the toned, lithe body I’ve wanted for years.

It’s hard, but I am who I am: a curvy girl who will always have generous assets. Good thing that my figure doesn’t impact my job performance. I’m here for a new nanny position, except I’m thirty minutes early. What should I do? Billionaire Ryan Blythe has hired me, but it’s going to be an odd fit. I hear he has five kids, but I know I can handle it. The problem is, can I handle him? He’s allegedly a gorgeous CEO with a rigid, controlling personality. It’s not going to be easy.

Then again, I need the money. I’m down to the last few dollars in my checking account, and this was the only family that had an immediate opening. Ruefully, I brush my curls back while staring at myself in the rearview mirror. The same brown eyes, pert nose, and small chin stare back at me. Light freckles sprinkle my cheeks, and as usual, my curly hair springs out from my head in a halo. I wish I could get it straight and sleek like the models in magazines, but no amount of blowdrying or gel will do that.

Meanwhile, what should I do with myself? I’m way early for my first day, and normally, I’d just sit in my car. But can they see me from the house? Undoubtedly so. There are probably cameras all over this lavish estate. They’re probably wondering who this crazy woman is doing nothing in their driveway.

I lean my head back, trying to think of ideas, when I hear my phone ring. It’s Denise, my best friend since sixth grade. Once again, she’s come to my rescue, and I pick up eagerly.

Denise and I have been besties forever. I’d just moved to Oaktown for middle school, and I was terrified to start class in a new place without knowing anyone. The teacher had, of course, decided the best way to help me get over my shyness was to call on me in front of everyone. A couple of kids had already been particularly mean earlier that day, mocking my size with insults and rude gestures. When one of them began making oinking noises, I felt tears rising and swallowed hard. This was going to be tough.

But then, a voice piped up from right in front of me.

I see the clown brigade has returned alive and well from a long summer of picking each other’s noses. The voice belonged to a pretty blonde girl whose rolling eyes matched the sarcasm in her tone. She turned to face my bullies. Will you guys just shut up? I swear, I can see boogers hanging from your noses already. Ignore them, she said to me. Let’s get you away from Tweedledum, Tweedledumber, Tweedledumbest and… I remember her shrugging for the last one and finally sighing and saying, and Tweedle-also-dumb!

I laughed through my tears, and since then, we’ve been inseparable. Now Denise is rescuing me again, this time from my own anxiety as I wait for the minutes to crawl by.

Hi Denise, I answer.

Hey, girl! she sings. Whatcha doing?

I’m about to start work.

For the handsome billionaire you’re going to live with? How exciting! Have you seen your guy’s bedroom yet?

"I don’t know if I’ll ever see his bedroom, I say. Nanny positions aren’t like that. Often, the master of the house has his own suite, which the help never enters."

Oh, says Denise in a deflated voice. Gotcha.

I sigh.

"Besides, it’s not like that. I’m taking care of his kids. I have my own room, which is probably clear across the house from the master suite, seeing how big this place is, I say, eyeing the mansion. You know I’m just nannying and teaching French to the kids."

Majoring in French makes for an enjoyable college experience but as far as a career … well it’s clearly a brilliant move that has landed me exactly zero jobs in the three years since graduation.

Mm-hmm, sure, Denise says. Are you wearing something soft and lacy underneath your Mrs. Doubtfire uniform? Ooh! You’re wearing those red panties I got you for Christmas, aren’t you?

The lingerie, purchased as a gag gift, is all part of Denise’s grand plan to get me to rethink my physical appeal. My body is not the round body from sixth grade anymore but the word thin will never come to anyone’s mind when they look at me. As a matter of fact, I am wearing the lacy panties she got me, but Denise doesn’t need to know that. I wear them because they’re comfortable, and not because I have any illusions that Mr. Billionaire Restaurant Tycoon will be seeing me in them.

It’s not like that! I say again. I’m taking care of Ryan Blythe’s kids. It’s a serious job.

"Oh, right, and I’m sure you haven’t noticed how incredibly sexy he is. Come on, Regina, I’ve seen the commercials. No amount of hand-tailored Italian silk can cover up that perfect specimen of god-like beauty in human form."

I have noticed, of course. Ryan Blythe is tall and strikingly handsome, with dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and a physique that would put Hercules to shame. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t had a fantasy or two about what might be underneath those Italian suits, but those idle fantasies do not control me. I am here for a job, not to indulge some harebrained dream about being swept off my feet by a modern-day Adonis.

"I’m here to work, Denise, I remind her, laughing. Besides, Mr. Blythe probably has a hundred supermodels in his phone he can have anytime he wants. I seriously doubt he’s going to get the hots for the frumpy babysitter."

"God, I hate when you do that! Denise says, You’re beautiful, Regina! Any guy, and I mean any guy, would be lucky to have you. I’ll bet you anything when Ryan sees you, he upgrades you from babysitter to baby mama before the month is out."

You’re crazy! I say laughing. I don’t believe a word she says, of course, but it’s nice to hear it anyway. This is a job, nothing more. I’m going to watch his kids, teach them French, and keep my lacy panties to myself.

Denise giggles too.

Okay, okay. How does the house look? she asks. You mentioned it’s a mansion?

Hmmm, I murmur. Let’s just say this neighborhood is nicer than anything I’ve ever seen. It’s totally different from where we live. It’s hard to believe my parents have a place only twenty miles south of here.

"That is your house now, Reggie, Denise says. You live there."

I snort.

I guess you’re right, although I’m sure I’ll be relegated to the servant’s quarters in the basement. My God, I’m here in the driveway, Denise, and my Civic looks totally out of place. The lot is enormous, but the house is large enough it doesn’t even seem small. And you know you’re the only one who can get away with calling me Reggie, right?

I can almost hear Denise’s smirk.

That’s because I’m special.

I smile.

I guess so.

I’m relieved we’re no longer fantasizing about my new boss, but Denise is like a dog with a bone.

So is Ryan Blythe as hot in real life as he is in his commercials? I swear, I watch TV just to see those Mama Pasta commercials.

I blow out air in a stream again.

Denise, I haven’t even met him yet.

She laughs on the other side and says, I just want to make sure we’re keeping our priorities straight.

So what are you saying? When I see him, I have to immediately report back?

She chortles.

Sounds like a plan. I need to know if Mr. Blythe is as hot in real life as he is in his commercials. I’ll expect a full report, signed and delivered in triplicate.

I giggle and ask if I’m allowed to keep the goldenrod copy. She ignores me and makes me promise. But I’m still gazing with wonder at the estate.

I think this yard was in one of the Mama Pasta commercials, I say. The lawn is jade green and perfectly manicured. You remember the one where his grandma feeds all the workers back in Italy? A vision of an army of Sicilian gardeners marching along in their flat worker caps, suspenders and exaggerated mustaches fills my head.

Yeah.

"Well, this is as big as the vineyard where they show them all working. It’s huge."

Denise giggles.

I’m going to Mama Pasta’s tonight, I think. I’m going to get me some lasagna and ricotta biscuits. I bet it’s just as good as his grandma’s.

I laugh and say, You know Mr. Blythe’s grandmother probably wasn’t ever a vineyard owner in Italy and I doubt the ricotta biscuits are authentic.

But they taste good!

Okay, you’ve got me there.

"Also, did you know The Tribune Times just called Ryan Blythe the third most eligible bachelor in the world?"

I laugh again.

That’s awesome, but I doubt he’d be into me. You know I can’t lose weight, and guys like that aren’t into curvy girls.

No more of that! my friend says sharply. Her tone softens and she says, "You’re perfect just the way you are. I hate when you put yourself down. And I’m telling you this again."

I sigh.

I know, Denise, but really. I’m just here for the job.

Okay, okay, she concedes. But if he’s actually a troll in real life, tell me, okay? You know they have make-up people, hair people, and perfect lighting. Ryan Blythe in real life could be five foot two and insanely ugly. Maybe it’s all movie magic.

Thanks Denise, I say wryly. That sounds terrible.

She brushes me off.

"Anyway, girlfriend, I wanted to wish you well on your first day. I really am super excited for you."

I’m excited too, I finally admit. Maybe I won’t get swept off my feet to a castle in the clouds, but it does feel good to have a steady, well-paying job while living in such a gorgeous home. Then again, they probably have me in the servants’ quarters in the basement. I could be going into a damp, dark cell reminiscent