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It doesn’t help that he’s not only mouth-wateringly delicious to look at—and he has thewholepackage—if you know what I mean, but he’s also considerate, funny, smart, and a wonderful father. Being a dedicated single dad, especially with his business responsibilities, can’t be easy. It feels impossible not to fall under the spell of such a man, and it amazes me he hasn’t been snapped up in a heartbeat already.
His financial position would be alluring enough for many women, but even without millions in the bank, he’s the most charming guy I’ve ever met.
Occasionally, I wonder what’s wrong with him. Is he too good to be true?
He’s single—at least as far as I know. I’ve not seen him go on a date since I’ve been here, and it’s been quite a while already. Of course, I have no idea what he’s up to when he’s in London all day, so perhaps he does have a girlfriend but doesn’t want to complicate home life for Daisy.
Maybe he stays single because he’s a dad, and not only that, but Daisy lives with him full time too. I suppose that would put many women off who might want to start their own family, and not take on someone else’s child.
It’s just as well they don’t know what an amazing girl Daisy is, or they’d be queuing up around the block. I realise I’m biased and not everyone loves children like me. Even so, little knots of jealousy tie up my stomach when I think he is bound to remarry soon.
Either way, he’s ranking remarkably high on the perfection scale in my book, so my crush is raging, and I think about him pretty much all the time. He’s in every thought, somewhere, and I’m not proud of my obsession. I thought I was a strong, independent woman who didn’t need a man.
Okay, so I don’tneeda man—or should I say—this man,but boy, how I want him. I yearn for him. And in those seconds between dreams and lucid thought in the early hours of the night, I imagine him touching me with his big, smooth hands and making me scream with pleasure.
I fantasise about running my hands over his broad chest and wide shoulders. His body is hard and muscular—I’ve seen him swimming with Daisy and getting out the pool dripping.
My face grows hot, and I’m embarrassed at the thought of him finding out how I feel about him. I’m wet just picturing him in his bed all alone. I wonder if he sleeps naked or if he wears shorts.
He’s out of my league and strictly off-limits to me, but that doesn’t stop me from longing for him.
Not only is he my boss, he’s also from one of the wealthiest families in the world. Even if he likes me as more than a member of his household staff, I would be the last girl he would choose for anything serious. I’m not naïve enough to think it could go anywhere. If, or I supposewhen,he remarries, it will be to some lucky woman from a family like his. That’s how the rich operate. From what I’ve observed, working in wealthy elite households, they like to keep their money in the family, and the best way to do that is to marry someone who also has lots of it.
I don’t suppose five thousand euros in a savings account in Paris would qualify… I’ve got some money in my new London account too, but I want to make sure there is some cash in Paris as a back-up for Sabine just in case she needs it. In many ways, I behave like her mother, and she teases me for it, but I know she appreciates the way I look out for her. And she has my back too. That’s what sisters do. My mother taught me that before she died. She made me promise to look after my little sister.
My mind circles back to Sebastian. It was thoughtful of him last night to let me know in advance that he would get Daisy ready for school and take her this morning. That way I could sleep in. I heard Daisy on the stairs but resisted the urge to join them for breakfast and make sure she had everything she needed. I figured Sebastian wanted some 1:1 time with his daughter, so I rolled over and drifted into a luxurious sleep, that was all the sweeter because it was stolen.
Mrs Johnson isn’t here this morning and unusually I have the place all to myself. I mooch about making the most of the quiet time before I leave to collect Daisy from school later.
It’s a perfect, blisteringly hot summer’s day with only a few puffy white clouds floating across the cerulean blue sky, so I slip into my costume and swim several lengths before flopping onto a sun lounger to dry off. I’ve been careful to be fully dressed when Sebastian comes home from work, and not repeat the scenario from the first time we met. But now I’ve got the place to myself, it’s wonderful to laze in the sun. I nip back into the kitchen and make myself a latte with the extravagant coffee machine and take a sandwich and book out to the pool.
Bliss!
As I turn the pages of my latest romantic suspense novel, I find Sebastian wandering into my thoughts again, and it’s difficult to concentrate on the story.
Stop it, Nat. Stop thinking about him all the time.
I tell myself that a man like him won’t look at a woman like me. I’ve come a long way since I was a penniless orphan in an institution in a poor Paris neighbourhood, praying for someone kind to take me and my sister in. But I’m still just a nanny. I’m his employee and he’s my unattainable boss. He’s a good guy, but there’s no point in fooling myself. Where marriage is concerned, the class divide is still alive and well despite the French Revolution.
A sly voice whispers in my head—but he does look at you, Nathalie. He looks at you rather a lot, in fact…
CHAPTER8
Sebastian
It feels good being back in Hampshire and I inhale a blast of fresh country air as I roll the window down and race up the drive that cuts through the acres of vivid green parklands in the estate. No matter how much I love Richmond, Greystone Manor will always be my childhood home, and I enjoy visiting.
My mother rushes out the door to greet me before I’ve even reached the big old house. When we were kids, our friends used to say the grey turrets reminded them of a fairy-tale castle, and the gothic-style manor has lost none of its magic all these years later.
Mother waves enthusiastically as she waits for me. There’s no point parking in the old stables because I won’t be staying overnight, so I pull up on the circular drive near the entrance to the ivy-covered house. Reaching across the seat, I grab the bunch of multi-coloured tulips I bought for her on impulse, on the way out of London.
Tulips are her favourite flower, and I know she’ll appreciate the surprise.
‘Oh darling, how cheerful they are. You are always so thoughtful,’ she says, hugging me like she hasn’t seen me in years as I climb out of the low-slung Porsche and unfurl my cramped legs. ‘Thank you so much. I’ll ask Alice to put them in water.’
Mum is thrilled to see me, and it warms my heart. It’s always worth making the effort to come over, even when it’s crazy at work.
‘I understand the chief has summoned you,’ she says with a mischievous glint in her green eyes as she flashes me a sparkling white smile.
