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"This isn’t a romance novel, Nanny. This is my life, and I’m just trying to do my job without embarrassing myself." Nanny laughs, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Oh, Isa. You’re making it sound like it’s the worst thing in the world. Just imagine it—a forbidden workplace romance, secret glances, and the tension! Oh, how thrilling! The babysitter and the boss. You’ve already got the perfect setup." I glare at her. "Nanny, stop. He’s my boss, and he has a child. A cute child, by the way, who is clearly going through something. I’m not about to entertain any fantasies about him."

I say. I hope so. I really hope he’s right. I look at the clock on the wall and it says 1:48PM. I open my laptop and I start to read. The book I have to read is actually a historical book based on arts and crafts in the 18th century. It’s not a romance novel, so forgive me if I’m not very excited to read it. I could read 600 pages of a romance or horror novel, but my reading assignments are just not inviting enough.

I said "Let me make it up to you"He said as he kissed my neck raising my gown up.I felt his hand touch my pants.I turned nervously to face him and he kissed me and I reciprocated.He lifted me placing me on the counter as we kissed.I was wet already.He raised my dress , pulling it over my head.I was braless so I was left with only my panties on.His lips went to my breast as he sucked them making me moan.I gasped as his hand went to my private area taking my pants off and I felt his finger inside me.I held him tight as I moaned.The pleasure was so intense. "Geez , Kingston......."I moaned

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“Please don't tell me this is a werewolf novel or a vampire romance novel.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, it's a historical romance novel.” "OH!" I was amazed at Athena's persistence in getting someone to read something she loved. “How did she succeed in getting you to read this kind of book? I know you are not the romantic type of man, not even the type who likes history.”

I had never seen Alex's face before, but every time I logged on, I silently prayed that he would be online. For the past three months, I had been playing this online game with Alex. We had communicated solely through messages, never hearing each other's voices or seeing each other's pictures. I knew he was thirty and lived in Liverpool, which was quite a distance from my tiny one-bedroom flat in London. Yet, there was something about him that consumed my thoughts. My imagination had conjured up an image of Alex in my head – strong, handsome, and mischievous. One thing was certain, he had a great sense of humor. His messages never failed to make me laugh on a daily basis.

I asked. “Another one of his historical smuts.” Henry replied, raising his voice to grab Ron’s attention. “This is fine historical literature not smut.” I snorted at that. “Fine historical literature my ass.” Henry said. Hen was right. I had once searched for a book in Ron’s vast library that did not involve a Duke being wickedly seduced by a temptress or a Highlander spilling his seeds into a moaning fair maiden and had not found any. Not that I was complaining, they were quite educative.

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He never shielded me from the heartache in the pages of those books but used them as a tool to teach me about life, history, hopes, and dreams. It wasn’t until my teen years that I discovered my love of romance. What began by dipping my toes into the historical greats affectionately termed ‘bodice rippers’ took on a different tone when I was a senior in high school. I discovered the world of erotic romance. I’d always been taught that literature was a gateway for the imagination so I never dreamed that some people would frown on the romance genre as lower quality literature. After all, with a history of such utter trash like Wuthering Heights and The Old Man and the Sea being named classics,