Page 1 of The Billionaire Dating Dad (The Holidates #18)

Violet

June

H e stepped from his car, tossing his keys to the valet, wearing confidence like she wore her favorite lingerie. His black suit hugged his broad shoulders, gliding in tune with his long strides.

Erotic.

Sensual.

Violet swallowed when he turned, giving her a generous peek at his chest from the buttons he’d left undone. He hadn’t bothered with the black tie she’d suggested. If possible, his minor rebellion against society’s expectations made him more attractive.

Dimitri looked delicious, better than his photo on the Holidates App, and she hoped no one at the black-tie charity event would notice his lack of neckwear. Who was she kidding? The smooth skin around his collar would draw every donor's eye.

If Violet didn’t know better, she’d assume he’d rehearsed the carefree way he handed over his keys and looked in his suit a million times.

What would it be like to have a man with his confidence shower her with attention?

She bit the inside of her cheek to temper her wild imagination aside as he approached.

As sure as sunrise, men like him didn’t date the help.

This was a professional date. Though her roommate swore another nanny had found love on the Holidates App, Violet wasn’t looking for romance. All she wanted was to make a good impression.

“You must be Violet.” His hand was warm as he gripped hers, sending electricity to her fluttering stomach. “I’m Dimitri.”

“Thanks for the last-minute date,” she said, wondering briefly if she’d overdressed.

His gaze trailed a chilling path from her four-inch heels to the artfully messy bun nestled at her crown, making her shiver under his attention. “It’s purely coincidence we’re attending the same event.”

Violet’s fingers tightened around her small clutch. Ouch. She winced.

His piercing eyes said he knew she didn’t belong at tonight’s gathering. Any other day, he’d be correct. Overpriced booze and snobby companions weren’t her ideas of a good time.

“I’ve never seen you at the gallery before.” He stared at her, head cocked as if replaying the many guests he’d met at previous gatherings.

“Because you attend all charitable events for children or because you remember everyone you see?”

“Only the showings my sister drags me to."

Violet sighed. His reluctance was palpable. A pang of regret for using the App dimmed her good humor.

"And yes, I would remember you.” His stare caressed her bare skin, causing her belly to flutter.

She cleared her throat to remind herself where she was. “I’m guessing that since you’re here with me, accepting my date wasn’t your idea.” Again, he didn’t strike her as a man who needed help in the dating department.

“It was my sister’s.” Dimitri’s jaw clenched and unclenched.

Okay… He wasn’t in the mood for company tonight, but it was too late for Violet to go in alone, not after she’d told the Townsons she’d bring her boyfriend.

Boyfriend. Good grief. Her mouth dried. If he was already objecting to being her date, how was she going to tell him they had to pretend to be in a relationship?

“Well, you can get back at your sister by having an amazing time.”

He cocked a brow. “I had other plans this evening.”

Of course, he did. It seems they would just have an okay time, then.

“We might as well get this over with,” he said.

Violet clutched his arm. “Wait.” It was now or never. Better to get the hard part over with before they went inside. “I sort of told Mrs. Townson we are together.”

“What exactly do you mean by ‘together’?” His gaze narrowed.

She inhaled slowly, wishing Dimitri’s sour mood would stop her heart from pounding in her chest. “That we’re a couple,” she said, quickly. “The woman doesn’t hire single nannies and I need this job.”

“You want me to lie?”

“A tiny white lie.” She flushed. “I just need Mrs. Townson to think we’re dating.”

He stared at her for a long time. Violet wasn’t sure if he would tell her to go to hell. “What’s in it for me?”

“After the interview, I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me again.” She exhaled. What better offer than a swift end to their fake date?

“That’s not enough.”

She reared back. What the… he didn’t want her company any more than she did him, so why was he objecting? He closed the distance between them and heat whooshed through Violet’s body as if he’d physically reached out, intimately caressing her exposed skin.

“I’m a gentleman and that means I take you home.”

She expected him to snatch at the chance to ditch her. “There’s no need.” Surely he had better things to do than play chaperone? “I found my way here, I can find my way back.”

“I’ll take you home.”

She stared into his piercing eyes, biting back a gasp as the silly butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She could object, but there was no point in arguing. Once the interview was over, she was sure he’d change his mind. “You’re serious?”

When he didn’t answer, Violet shook her head. If she survived one evening in his company, Violet could survive a thirty-minute car ride in a confined space. Survive his nearness and mouth-watering cologne — No. No. No.

She would just have to learn how to hold her breath.

Their date was for a new job, not pleasure. She had no business taking her eyes from the prize.

Without another word, he held her elbow, steering them toward the gallery.

“Does this mean you’ll pretend to be my boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

Violet exhaled in relief. Though he still didn’t seem pleased, she appreciated his help. “You didn’t tell me what you wanted in return.”

Before he could answer, the doors opened, bathing them in soft lighting and low chatter.

Champagne and perfume peppered the air, making Violet glad she had worn no fragrance to compete with the extravagant scents.

Both of her previous employers had complained of a stuffy nose and itchy eyes when she had worn any perfume, so she stopped wearing any.

The light reflecting off the shimmering gold decorations filled the room with sophisticated elegance, and the quiet conversations were inaudible against the backdrop of the delicate piano piece.

Both children and adults filled the room.

She hadn’t known what to make of Mrs. Townson’s invitation to the gallery, but she hadn’t expected children to be present.

Now her position to chaperone Mrs. Townson's eleven-year-old daughter to events made sense.

“Champagne?” a server asked.

“None for me, thanks,” she said, though she longed to accept the offer.

Her nervousness prickled her skin and Violet resisted the urge to run her palms along her black dress to smooth the invisible wrinkles.

She didn’t belong here. It was one thing to care for their children and another to submit to their public scrutiny.

“None for me either.” Dimitri’s thumb idly drew circles on her hand. “Relax,” he whispered in her ear.

His touch soothed her, calming her racing pulse.

“I don’t expect you not to drink or enjoy yourself, Dimitri.”

“What kind of boyfriend…or getaway driver would I be if I’m intoxicated?”

Violet held her breath for a moment before slowly exhaling in a vain attempt to steady her nerves.

Even though this was not the night he had planned, his actions spoke to an awareness of her uneasiness as he attempted to ease her anxiety.

While his behavior was a show, she found solace in his kind gesture.

Perhaps it wasn’t too late to leave. Too late to find a less demanding job with a less demanding family. Violet closed her eyes. She couldn’t afford to give up this opportunity.

“What do you think it will take to end this event?”

She frowned. Violet didn’t blame him for wanting a way out of their fake arrangement. “Since it’s a charity event, I suppose once they sell all the art, the event would conclude.”

She glanced about, hoping to spot her future employer. The quicker the interview went, the sooner they could leave, but it was impossible in the dim lighting unless they walked around the room.

“I should go look for Mrs. Townson.”

Dimitri held my hand tighter. “If you’re expected, they know you’re here.”

She opened her mouth to protest then closed it. He knew these socialites better than she did.

“Trust me. This crowd can sniff out an outsider.”

“Do I smell that bad?” Violet teased, nervously.

“Refreshingly repulsive.”

She laughed.

“I imagine your interview started when you entered the gallery,” he said. “There’s only one reason Mrs. Townson chose a charity event as the setting for your meeting.” He nodded toward the small group of middle schoolers. “To witness how you interact and behave with them in their social circle.”

“I love children.”

“Don’t all nannies?”

Was that sarcasm she heard in his tone? “You’d be surprised how many don’t,” she said honestly.

“That is counterproductive, don’t you think? Especially considering the number of hours a nanny spends with someone’s child.”

“Do you love what you do?”

“What does that—”

“Do you love your job or do you only do it for the money?”

He turned those piercing eyes on her for a brief moment. “Can’t it be both?”

“Yes,” she said, meeting his gaze. “But loving what you do gives you purpose. A reason to do your best because someone is depending on you to show up for them. As for the money, it’s good, but kids like the Townson’s daughter already have people in their lives that only care about money. They need someone that sees them.”

He continued to stare at her as if she’d grown horns. Why did she allow herself to get sucked in? She wasn’t on an audition for this man and didn’t need to justify her choices to him. Violet glanced away.

“Have you always wanted to be a nanny?” This time his genuine curiosity took her off guard.

“I don’t think nannies daydream about being nannies.” She smiled. “I was a teacher.”

He frowned, as if trying to picture her in a classroom, but failed to draw an image.