The Billionaire's Nanny

I love you

The next morning, Lucas woke up feeling even worse than he felt last night. Mia had gone home last night after she made me promise a thousand promises to call if he did not get better overnight, so I had my hands full with taking care of the kids and looking after Lucas too.

The latter was harder though since Lucas would not even admit to being sick.

"I'm fine, I swear," he grumbled as I put my hand over his head again.

"No, you're not. People who are fine do not have high temperatures enough to burn up." I leaned back from where I sat on the mattress next to the cold water and towel I used on him all morning. It almost felt weird sitting next to him in the same bed and I worked hard to keep memories of how many times he had taken me on this very bed from my mind. Thankfully I had a more important distraction to keep my mind busy. I pressed the water off the towel and placed it on his head, despite his many protests about being fine. "If your temperature does not improve, I might dump you in a bowl of ice."

"That's so sweet," he said drily, trying and failing to hold back a shiver.

"You're cold," I said taking a peek of the early morning sun as the bright rays filled the room through the open windows.

"I'm fine, it's just work stress," he growled.

"And now you're about to dive back into the same stress you speak of," I raised a brow, hoping he would see how ridiculously stubborn he was being right now.

He didn't.

"You never heard about the magic Tylenol," he held the bottle that sat on the nightstand up to prove his point.

"You have been taking this all night and you still look bad," I pressed, "maybe you should see a doctor or even better, visit the hospital."

"No," he said sharply, throwing his legs over the bed and rising with a grunt, "I am not going to the hospital because I do not need to," he squared his shoulders, but I could see right through his false bravado. "I'm fine and I have a shit ton of work to finish today, so I need to get ready." He took a few long, heavy steps towards the bathroom.

He was in a bad shape, but he would not even admit it.

Stubborn arse.

"Can you not finish them up here at home?"

"I'm fine Muffin," he growled.

I wanted to remind him that he was no longer allowed to call me that but lost the will to as my heart skipped a few beats when he took his shirt off. How does he get to be so hot even when he's ill?

"I'm sure the kids should be ready for school now," he said, tossing the shirt to the floor, "you should leave to take them now. I'll get ready for work."

"Lucas," I started, mustering the strength to move my wobbly legs to stand close to him. "I'm not sure you should go to work today. You look pretty bad."

"Are you worried about me?" he quirked a brow and for some reason, the air between us felt so tense, I thought it would crack any second. I struggled to keep my breathing steady and my thoughts clear as he pushed the pair of sweatpants he had on, leaving him in just his boxer briefs that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Breathe Chris, it's nothing you haven't seen before.

"Why would I be?" I shrugged, walking past him to put the towel away. Even I was not buying my feigned nonchalance and from the smirk playing on his lips, I knew he was well aware of what he was doing to me with just his presence. "You can do whatever you want, I don't care."