Her Dakota Summer Read online

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  Her Dakota Summer

  ISBN # 978-1-78430-665-6

  ©Copyright Dahlia DeWinters 2015

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright July 2015

  Edited by Jamie D. Rose

  Totally Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Sizzling and a Sexometer of 2.

  HER DAKOTA SUMMER

  Dahlia DeWinters

  When you have a male nanny as sexy as Celeste’s, it’s hard to remember you’re supposed to be the boss.

  A late cancellation by her ex-husband leaves Celeste with no choice but to find a live-in caretaker for her two very active boys while she works from home. Simple, right? Except the one she gets is a young, gorgeous twenty-something whose hot body is a temptation waiting around every corner. Thank goodness the assignment will only last a few weeks. She can focus on her work for that long, can’t she?

  Dedication

  To my husband, who always believes.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  To Market: Ellis Wilson

  Real Simple: Time Inc.

  X-Men: Marvel Characters Inc.

  Oreo: Intercontinental Great Brands LLC

  Superman: DC Comics General Partnership

  Batman: DC Comics General Partnership

  Legos: Lego Juris A/S Corporation

  UNO: Mattel Inc.

  Chutes and Ladders: Hasbro Inc.

  Star Wars: LucasFilm Entertainment Company

  Sonic: America’s Drive-In Brand Properties LLC

  Speedo: Speedo International Limited

  Monopoly: Hasbro Inc.

  Chapter One

  Celeste pressed her lips together and kept her eyes on the To Market Ellis Wilson print that hung on the wall next to her office door. It had been a gift from her now ex-husband, who was on the other end of the telephone, sounding contrite. She loved the print, was iffy on the ex. The cool breeze from the air conditioner dried the perspiration forming on her temples. An unexpected phone call from Charles could not be the harbinger of good news.

  He blew out a long stream of breath before launching into his speech. “Celeste, I am so sorry, but I have to fly overseas for the month of July. I can take the boys in August, for the full month instead of just two weeks. Please forgive me.”

  “No forgiving necessary,” she said, trying her best not to sound as annoyed as she felt. “These things do happen.” At this moment, she had exactly ten days to find a steady babysitter for the boys or else she was going to be seriously behind in her work. Given that it was nearly the end of June, her chances didn’t look good for summer camps. The best ones started filling up in March.

  On the other end of the line, Charles continued his sweet talk. “I’ll send you a blank check to cover expenses for whatever you decide. I’ll call the boys tonight when I have more time to talk. I wanted to let you know right way so you could make plans.” The burr of a telephone sounded in the background. “I have to get that, Celeste.”

  Everything had already been said, no use in keeping him on the line any longer. “All right, Charles. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye, Celeste.”

  Celeste touched the end button on her cell phone and restrained herself from throwing it across the room. Taking a few deep breaths, she crossed to her office door and opened it, adding this latest item to her mental to-do list. She walked downstairs to the family room where the two boys were busily playing a video game.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and rested her head against the door frame. This summer was going to be tough to handle. There was a big push for fall publishing season and she had been counting on the time alone in July to edit the folder of book files she had sitting on her hard drive. How was she going to handle that pile of work and two boys who were always on the go?

  Celeste watched cartoon images race each other on the video game—Jackson more adept with the sensitive controls than Malcolm, even though he was the younger of the two. As she observed them joking and trading mild insults, her mind raced as to her next steps.

  It was too late for camps. She’d known that while talking on the phone with Charles. Most of the decent camps were full and those that had openings weren’t appropriate for boys aged eight and ten. Money wasn’t a huge object, but she wanted them to do something wholesome for the summer, not engage in overpriced activities that would leave them jaded to the simpler things in life.

  She left the boys to their game and wandered to the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of iced tea and took it out to the deck overlooking the pool. If she had her way, they’d stay at home with her, but how would she manage two active little boys and work too?

  * * * *

  “Get a nanny.” Lynn crossed her legs and took a delicate sip of her Cosmopolitan. Her pink tennis racket leaned against the wall behind her. A matching pink and white towel hung over the arm of her chair. “Go on one of those websites and order yourself one.”

  Celeste shook her head and tipped her glass to her lips. “I don’t like the idea of some girl I don’t know staying in the house.”

  Lynn fanned herself and lifted her braids off the back of her neck. The heat was killer at this time of day. “At this point, you can’t be too choosy. You’ve got a ton of work to do and no babysitter. Even someone who comes during the day would be a help.” She took another sip of her drink and glanced around the tennis club bar. “There’s no way that you can do quality work and run after those two little bundles of pure energy.”

  “But how does that look, me being home all day and hiring a babysitter?” Celeste twisted her silver and diamond bracelet around and around on her wrist. What kind of mother doesn’t take care of her own children?

  Lynn waved her hand in a pooh-poohing motion. “Who care
s how it looks? Charles tossed this on you at the last minute—”

  “It was an emergency.” Celeste was careful not to bad-mouth her ex-husband. One never knew what would trickle down to her children’s ears.

  “Exactly. An emergency. He’s footing the bill right?” Lynn leaned forward then tapped the table with a candy pink polished nail, her hazel eyes bright with her idea. “You’d hire someone if you had a nine-to-five job, right?” She reclined in her chair. “Hire someone. Use Charles’ money. That’s what he gave it to you for. Then take the tax deduction for child day care.” She jumped up from the table and grabbed her racket. “Let’s play another set.”

  * * * *

  Celeste stared at the number she’d gotten from a mom in Jackson’s class and scribbled on her blotter. The mother had recommended the agency highly, but was doubtful that Celeste would be able to get someone on such short notice. After making a play date for Jackson, Celeste hung up the telephone and sat tapping her fingers on the inked digits.

  Hire someone. Lynn’s voice echoed in her head.

  Not live in. While the home had an in-law suite with a separate entrance from the house, she was antsy about having someone stay in her home. Privacy was a priority and to have a stranger invade her space would cause her much tossing and turning at night.

  Chapter Two

  Caretakers Inc. didn’t skimp on interior decorating. Celeste stepped onto plush wine-color carpeting as soon as she opened the third door down the hallway from the elevator. The young black woman behind the receptionist desk gave her a sunny but professional smile as she held up one finger in a silent signal to hold on while she finished a call. Celeste took a seat on a beige sofa and picked up the latest issue of Real Simple magazine.

  When the call was finished, the woman beckoned to her. “I’m so sorry about that, Mrs. Myers. I’m ready for you now. How are you today?”

  Celeste slid the magazine back onto the low table and approached the desk. “I’m doing well, thank you.”

  “Excellent!” The receptionist chirped. “I’d like to welcome you to Caretakers and to let you how pleased we are that you chose us to fill your caretaking needs.” She ran her finger down a written list, nodded, then looked back up at her. “Let me get you to the interview room. You’re scheduled with Dakota Nelson.” She got up from her chair, surprising Celeste with her height. “Do come with me.”

  “Sure.” Celeste followed the young woman’s black springy curls down a well-appointed hallway to a dark blue door which opened into a spacious sitting room.

  “Have a seat, Mrs. Meyers, and we’ll send Dakota right in. Oh,” she added, “I love your earrings!”

  Celeste reached up and touched the turquoise and silver earrings dangling from her ears. She had picked them up on a business trip to Phoenix a long time ago. “Thank you.”

  There were more magazines in here and she selected one by reflex, but merely held it as she looked around the room. It was nice, the way they set up the interview suite as it if were a living area. The process was nerve-wracking enough, but at least the agency smoothed the way.

  Dakota Nelson. She smiled briefly at the name. The agency had given her a rundown over the phone of her qualifications—law school graduate, Ivy League graduate and she had been a nanny for one previous summer with high recommendations from the employer. From the name, she was sure she was going to see some hippie chick or else a bohemian princess, complete with multi-colored head wrap and an overpriced Princeton education. She flipped through the pages filled with bright photographs of cute storage ideas, household tips and quick dinner suggestions.

  Halfway through an article on fifty ways to use vinegar around the house, she heard a soft knock at the door. She closed the magazine and tossed it onto the table.

  A tall, bronze-skinned man entered the room. By her estimation, he couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, twenty-six, at most. She smiled, anticipating another quick briefing on her going-to-be nanny. They certainly were thorough in this place. They held your hand every step of the way.

  “Mrs. Meyers?” He entered the room and extended his hand, his handshake firm but gentle. There was restrained strength behind that handshake and she steeled her muscles to keep herself from shivering with the force of his touch. Surprised at her reaction, she withdrew her hand and let it lay in her lap, dismissing the warmth that radiated up her bare arm. She was too old to be moved by the open sexiness of such a young man—or was she?

  Before he could speak, she cleared her throat. “Is Dakota going to be late? Or do you have some last minute information on her?” She kept her tone light, but she was strangely jangling inside.

  A puzzled frown crossed the man’s brow then he smiled. “Mrs. Meyers, I’m Dakota. Dakota Nelson.” He slid his hands into his pockets, then pulled them out again. A leather braided bracelet circled one sturdy-looking wrist.

  A quick intake of breath was her only show of surprise. This, this, is the nanny? Dear, sweet hot biscuits. “You’re the nanny?”

  “Yes. They…didn’t tell you?”

  Celeste sank back on the sofa, her mind a whirl of thoughts. Two seconds ago she was thinking about how good he might be in bed. How embarrassing. “They just said… No, they didn’t tell me.” I must have skimmed the file so quickly that I missed it.

  “Look, Mrs. Meyers.” He appeared embarrassed. “If me being a guy bothers you, I can—”

  “Oh, no, no. It’s fine. I was just surprised. That’s all.” Celeste gestured him to a seat, hoping she looked more in control than she felt. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk.”

  Dakota kept his grin in check, fearing that he would offend the woman who was obviously shocked that he was a guy. It happened more often than not, but he considered it an advantage. When clients were expecting a woman and he showed up, he started out with the element of surprise. Anything he did after the initial shock would impress them.

  But the woman in front of him didn’t look like any client he’d run into during his tenure at the law firm. In his last nanny position, the mother had been a social butterfly who had been gone most of the day, arriving home only to supervise the making of dinner and putting the children to bed. They’d paid well enough.

  Mrs. Meyers chewed on the corner of her lip and her eyelashes fluttered as she tried to regain her composure. She thumbed through the cards twice and squeezed them in her hands.

  He hoped he wasn’t making her too nervous. “Mrs. Meyers, if you’d rather not interview me, we can—”

  “Oh, no, no.” Celeste squeezed the cards in her hands again and gave him a brilliant, but tense smile. “It’s perfectly fine.” Her brown eyes were luminous and flashed him a hint of something before her face settled into a neutral expression.

  Leaning back on the couch, she crossed one leg over the other and he caught a hint of her perfume. It was a light, citrusy scent that reminded him of a summer sunrise.

  For a lack of anything better to do, he reached forward and adjusted the corner of the magazine that hung off the table. Mrs. Meyers was one hot mother. He wondered if she were single, and just as quickly put the thought out of his head. This was an assignment for six weeks, a job to give him something to do until he decided his direction for the next year.

  Celeste dropped her gaze and riffled through her cards. She pulled another breath into her lungs, trying to hide her confusion and control her racing thoughts. Dakota was neither a hippie chick nor a chatty trust-fund baby from Princeton. What he was, she had no words for. Well, she had the words but they weren’t appropriate to say out loud. With yet another deep breath, a scrambled mind and an insistent throbbing between her thighs, she started the interview.

  She gave him her full attention. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way.”

  “I’m sorry for the confusion.”

  “Not your fault.” She smiled. “It’s all on me. I tend to be a speed reader. So”—she glanced at one of her cards—“I have two boys, one eight and one ten. What kin
ds of activities will you plan to do with them?”

  She pressed her shoulder blades back against the cushion of the sofa. As he talked, she watched how animated his face became when he listed the fun activities he had in mind for her children. It was obvious he knew the area well and had a good handle on both lan and low-cost amusements. Celeste couldn’t take her eyes off him. Strong cheekbones framed a nose that was perfectly centered above lips that any normal woman would want to kiss. His dark hair was swept back loosely from his forehead into a braid—a braid!—down his back but a few strands escaped, floating around his face as he spoke.

  “You swim?” Celeste nibbled the inside of her cheek, struggling to keep her expression cool and professional while she imagined him with his shirt off, swimming trunks slung low across narrow hips.

  “I was a summer lifeguard during high school and part of college at the Natchez Swim club. I just re-certified last week.” He paused. “I was kind of late this year.”

  “That’s good to hear. I have a pool and the boys like to swim.” She laughed a little. “I should actually swim more too, but sometimes I’m just so busy…” She let the sentence trail off, wondering why she’d even bothered to say that. What did he care about whether she swam or not?

  “Swimming can be a great stress reliever. Maybe you’ll get more time this summer.”

  Celeste nodded. She could think of a few other things that might also be stress relievers. “Maybe I will.”

  “What are the boys’ names? You say they’re both under twelve?”

  “Jackson and Malcolm. They’re eight and ten.”

  “Those are great ages. Lots of energy.”