Attraction is not a Choice: The Boxset

By Taylor Axe

I have been jobless for over a month in a city like New York, so you can imagine my joy when I got called for a job interview as a nanny. The job title isn't important, so far it pays my ever compiling bills.
What I didn't expect was that I was to work for Lucas Martins, the dark eyed handsome devil billionaire that got me sacked from my former job. Life could be such a bitch sometimes or all the time to someone like me.
I was going to keep my dignity and walk out on the job until he called a price I couldn't resist. That, and the fact the innocent little baby really needed me. It's already hard enough having a cold-hearted and arrogant man for a daddy.

Find out in Attraction is not a Choice, The Boxset, the whole 5 books newly edited. Enjoy the complete series of five enemies to lovers romances that will melt your heart away like never before.Suspense, Mystery and HEA endings guaranteed !!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Taylor Axe
• Release date: Nov 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223061694

Book preview

ATTRACTION IS NOT A CHOICE

The Nanny’s hand book

The Complete Series

By: Taylor Axe

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication / use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Copyright © 2023 Taylor Axe – All rights Reserved

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Table of content

Prologue

The Offer

Meet the Angel

Into the Lion’s Lair

Trapped

Turn Around

Surprise

Just an Evening

So Close

No Way

Cold Sweat

Confession

Panic Room

The Decision

Cold and Hot

Open Heart

Chill

Newcomer

The Truth

Last Chance

Time to Talk

Touch Words

New Start

Change

This is the End

Epilogue

Prologue

One month and some days earlier

I could feel every fiber in my body protest in fatigue as I weaved among the rows of strategically arranged tables. My legs quaked pitifully in the 3 inches stilettos that Morty, the manager, forced every waitress that worked in Signatures to wear. It was more about that fact that I had worked all night than the darn heels, though. It was not like I could complain, though. I had realised very early that I had a crappy life and the best I could do was try and survive.

I headed straight for the terrace, a big smile plastered on my face. I remember Morty warning me to be on my best behavior because the customer I was serving was a VIP. I wonder how Rich he was, though, that he could book out the whole terrace of an expensive restaurant like Signatures.

And then I saw him... I felt a hitch in my breathing at the sight before my eyes. He looked like a man chiseled to perfection by the gods. He could pass for a god, too. An Adonis. Because, how else can one explain this perfection? His dark lustrous hair seemed to bounce around the rays of the sunlight. I couldn't see his eyes but I bet they'd be dreamy, if his perfectly chiseled face was anything to go by. He looked like a scene from a movie...

He didn't look up from his phone as I gently dropped the wine and glasses on the table before him. Shall I pour your wine, sir? I asked in the perfectly polite tone drilled into every waitress at Signatures. He didn't respond. Instead he made a small gesture with his hand. I bit my lower lips in a momentary confusion. I couldn't tell if that was a yes or no to my question. I picked up the wine bottle.

And then the unthinkable happened...

One minute I was trying to gracefully pour Mr. Perfection some wine, the other minute I was splayed awkwardly across the table, wine splatters all over the place. My eyes grew wide in horror as I saw the huge red stain on his expensive suit pant.

I looked up into his his eyes and froze. His stormy grey gaze held me captor. A slight tremor passed through me at the same intensity in his powerful grey eyes or were they green? I had never seen eyes like his. They were enchanting...

"Are you always this stupid or is it a special day?

His smooth velvety voice snapped me out of my reverie. I jerked myself up and bowed quickly. I'm... I'm sorry sir! I'm so sorry, sir! I snatched a napkin from the table, knelt by his side and started to furiously dab at his pant.

What are you doing? He asked in a cold voice that sent chills down my spine.

My hand froze. I bit my lips nervously while realising what I'd just done hit me. I swallowed back the tears of shame and frustration that welled up in my chest. I.. I am sorry. I said in a small pitiful voice.

Looks like you will be, he said with a slow smirk that did nothing to diminish the hardness in his greyish green eyes.

I should have been more focused on the ominosity of those words and not the brilliancy of those dreamy eyes.

The Offer

Present day

Do you think I don't know you are in there?

"Come out here right now!'

"My next visit here will be with the cops, you, miserable scrooge!'

I didn't dare to breathe. I shrunk further into my closet wall as Mrs. Rogers voice got even louder. I have been avoiding my landlady for over two weeks, and now I don't think I can hold it much longer. I sighed softly and sagged against the wall of my closet. I just had to wait it out. If I knew Mrs. Rogers well, she'd stay out there all day if she could. It's not like I had anywhere to be, anyway. Staying in my closet all day seemed better than being homeless in New York. I gasped softly as my phone rang, blaring loudly enough to wake the dead. I blindly swiped at the screen, anything to stop the noise. I listened quietly for Mrs. Rogers voice and sighed in relief when I didn't hear it.

Hello? Hello? Came a cool female voice. I started at the sudden sound. My phone skittered to the ground. Miss Lester? Hello?

I fumbled around in the darkness of my closet until my hand closed around my handset. I placed it quickly against my ear, clearing my throat softly. H...Hello?

Oh!' The caller said with a breezy sigh. Are you okay? Is it a good time?"

Yes! Yes, I'm fine, I said quickly. T... Thanks for asking.

Okay, The caller said. My name is Mira Brown. I am calling to confirm your application to work as a live in nanny. You don't quite meet our requirements, but we would like to give you a chance. Will you be available for an interview tomorrow?

What?! I squealed quietly in joy. Yes! Yes, of course. Tomorrow is fine. I will be there!

Okay, that's fine, Mira Brown said. I will forward the address and other details for you. Be there at eight. Not a minute later. Mr. Martins hates tardiness.

Of course, I will be there right on time.

******************************************************.

Right on time, my ass. I was more than an hour late already.

Mrs. Rogers had been right in front of my door when I stepped out. She'd kept nagging and wouldn't let me go even after I informed her I had an interview Time seemed to be slipping away like sand through my fingers. The minutes were ticking relentlessly, and I knew I had to hurry if I didn't want to miss my opportunity. As I sprinted down the street, my heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of adrenaline and anxiety coursing through my veins

I had to trick her and run out of the apartment building like a maniac on drugs. I glanced down at the faded leather watch on my wrist and felt my heart clench painfully.

Mr. Martins hates tardiness.

The words kept echoing painfully in my head. I hope Mr. Martins is a nice person who would consider the face that his job was my last hope and without it, I'd be living on the streets, starting tonight.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts. The weight of desperation hung heavily upon my shoulders, reminding me of the dire circumstances I faced. This job interview was not just another opportunity; it was my lifeline, my chance to escape the impending doom that awaited me.

We are here, the cabman said, pulling up before a huge wrought iron gate. I thanked him and alighted. Ignoring the crazy thumping of my heart against my chest ribs, I pressed the intercom and stepped back, brushing off nonexistent ruffles in my dress.

Hello? Came a chirpy voice from the Internet.

Hi! I said with a practiced bright smile, before I remembered that she probably couldn't see me. My name is Courtney Lester. I am here to interview as the new nanny.

You are quite late, Miss Lester, the woman said. Come on in, though. Mr. Martins is just about to head out. You'd be lucky to get an audience.

Oh my God, I muttered to myself, swallowing hard on the panic welling up in the pit of my stomach. The gate slid open and I gasped softly in awe at the magnificent sight of opulent mansion in front of me. Everything from its curved veranda to the pretty flower bed flanking the driveway was a sight to behold. It was simply splendid, like a page from a picture magazine.

Mr. Martins must be crazy rich to own a house like this. And I'd be lucky to live in the servants’ quarters. I signed softly and headed for the giant oak door, praying with all my might the interview goes well.

The door was pulled open from the inside and a plump woman with a kind smile scurried towards me, a slightly worried glint in her light brown eyes.

Oh, dear, she said, clapping her hands together in a fussy manner. Why did you come so late? She looked to be in her mid-fifties, and from the apron tied around her waist and her fussy manner, I could immediately tell that she was the housekeeper.

I... I was... I didn't... I bit my lower lips helplessly (yes, it’s a nervous tic I have when I feel stressed), wondering quietly if I was about to be turned back at the door without even getting a chance to be interviewed. I'm so sorry, ma'am.

Just call me Sally, she said with a quick wave of her hand. Anyway, you are really in luck. Mr. Martins’ appointment got cancelled. He doesn't seem pleased about it, but he'll see you. Come, I'll take you to his study.

Really? Thank you! I said with a relieved smile. Luck must have decided to look my way today. I quickly followed Sally into the house. The inside was as magnificent as the outside with a grandeur that makes me want to stop and admire each piece of furniture. I felt like I was walking on clouds as I followed Sally down a long seemingly endless corridor. I was just about to ask Sally how many rooms are in the mansion when she stopped abruptly in front of one of the countless doors on the corridor.

We are here, Sally said, turning to me with a small smile. Knock twice and go in. Mr. Martins is expecting you.

I watched Sally walk back the way we came in her hurried fussy steps. I clenched my hands against the unreasonable urge to cling to her apron and beg her to go in with me. I took in a deep breath and let it out on a shaky breath. Drawing upon the strength within, I pushed aside my doubts and embraced the courage that brought me to this doorstep. I reminded myself of the purpose that had led me here and the potential for connection and understanding that lay on the other side.

I rapped twice on the door and opened it.

Good day, sir. I am so sorry...

Little wonder, came a very familiar drawl. It would seem you are generally a klutz.

I looked up into those consuming greyish green eyes and every thought in my head flew away.

I SAT STIFFLY IN FRONT of him, fumbling with my hands on my laps. I could feel his eyes on me. Staring hard. Everything in me felt the power radiating from him in waves. His piercing gaze made me feel exposed, as if he could see through all my insecurities and doubts. I struggled to maintain my composure, desperately trying to match his intensity. The air in the room crackled with tension. I had unconsciously pictured Mr. Martins as a stiff, necked, old-fashioned man in his mid-forties, not the hot, rude billionaire: Lucas Martins.

You look terribly nervous, Lucas said coolly. And you are over an hour late.

I... I... ohm... I licked my upper lips quickly, another nervous habit. I cleared my throat awkwardly and adjusted on my seat. I am terribly sorry, Mr. Martins. I...

Call me Lucas, he interrupted softly.

My eyes flew to his. What?

You aren't deaf, are you? He asked, holding me prisoner with his eyes. I feel like he does that a lot. His eyes were endlessly interesting; alluring. I felt like I could keep looking at them for a long time, consciously getting lost in their depth.

I lowered my lashes and cleared my throat softly. No, I... No, I'm not.

If you can't hold your own with a bottle of wine, what's the assurance that you won't drop the baby on her head? Lucas asked randomly.

I felt my intestines twist in anger at that. The guts of him after demanding Morty to fire me for that mistake after apologizing profusely. I sat up straighter and held his gaze squarely. I could make up many excuses for the other day, I said. But I don't think that would do any good, especially seeing as you insisted I was fired. I can see clearly that this interview isn't going anywhere either. I'm sorry for any inconveniences. I'll see myself out, I said and started to stand.

This is what losers do, he said in that annoyingly cool tone that contradicted his scathing words. Quit at the slightest inconvenience...

My brows pulled up in a slightly confused frown. Excuse me?

How do you live like that? He asked, as if he hadn't heard me speak. I mean... Do you always just run and hide when things get tough? All you do is stumble over your words and apologize repeatedly. You don't mind being stepped over, do you?

I blinked rapidly in surprise. I couldn't believe the audacity of this man. He sat there, brows raised, genuinely waiting for me to respond to his ridiculous question. You don’t know me, Mr. Martins, I said as calmly as possible, despite the raging anger in my stomach. I don't...

Lucas, he interrupted softly. Call me Lucas.

I scoffed lightly and huffed. I don't care what the fuck you want me to call you. You have no right to insult or judge the way I live. Who the hell do you think you are, you, rude jerk?!

My words hung in the air, challenging his perceived authority and demanding respect for my autonomy. Deep down, a fire ignited within me, ready to defend my values and principles against his condescending demeanor.

I knew you had that fire somewhere in there," he said, the corners of his mouth smirking.