Chapter one
Ned
That is one impressive house. I feel daunted just looking at it. It is a million miles from the tiny two-up two-down in the East End of London where I started my family all those years ago. Well, not a million miles in actual distance, it’s only about eighty of those. But it is so far away in every other aspect, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
Am I happy that my great-great grandkids are growing up in luxury? Yes. Am I happy that it is a side effect of being enslaved by a psycho billionaire? No. Well, maybe yes. Having some good come out of it has to be something.
A heavy sigh escapes me. I don’t know the answer. I’m tired and I just want to see my family. Whatever I think or feel about things is irrelevant. It happened. It is reality. Time to get on with it. Moping is for losers.
With that thought in mind, I carefully drive my car down the driveway and get it as close to the front door as I can. Thank heavens there is a porch, and it is a cloudy day. I’m really not looking forward to getting older, and direct sunlight meaning bursting into flames instead of intensediscomfort. But I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
All right, time to take a deep breath and make a run for it.
I grimace as I barrel out of the car and sprint the short distance to the shade of the porch. I’m so anxious to get out of the sun that I don’t even hesitate about ringing the doorbell.
The chimes ring out pleasantly and the large fancy door opens swiftly. I quickly step inside into the white marble floor of the entrance lobby. The grand staircase is super impressive.
“Edmund?” says a pleasant voice behind me.
They are probably slightly offended that I barged past them, but there is sod all I can do about that. I needed to get away from the sun. Hopefully, they won’t report my social faux pas to their boss.
“It’s Ned,” I reply automatically as I turn.
And then my long dead heart thumps. Jesus effing Christ. My eyes are feasting on the most handsome man to have ever walked the earth.
Tall, check. Dark, check. Handsome, hell yeah, because if I needed to breathe I’d be asphyxiating right now.
He is definitely six foot something. With dark, luxurious looking hair in what has to be an extremely expensive haircut. Eyes the color of finest whiskey. Strong nose and jawline. Manly chin. Good tan.
Flipping heck. If he smiles, I just know his teeth are going to be dazzling white and perfect.
My gaze rakes over his broad chest and then down over his strong legs. All wrapped up in a very fancy suit.
I swallow. God damnit. This is no butler. This has to be Morgan Dowd. My great-granddaughter’s widower.
Apparently, taste in men is genetic or something. Because, damn it. This is unreal.
“Come this way, please,” he says.
I nod mutely and follow him. Why the hell did he have to open his own door? He could have sent a member of staff to do it. Now his first impression of me is me bursting into his house uninvited.
Not that he seems bothered. And besides, I am about to glamor the poor man into hiring me as his nanny. It is not as if he needs to like me.
I glance around as he leads me down a hallway. The house is silent. It feels empty. I don’t think the kids are here and it is stupid of me to be disappointed about that. I knew they wouldn’t be. Because who the hell introduces their kids to all the people they are interviewing?
Morgan opens the door to a lovely study. There is a big mahogany desk, groaning bookshelves. And a plush leather chair in front of the desk. Right in a beam of dazzling sunlight.
“Take a seat,” he says as he gestures to the cursed chair.
Fuck my life. The only other chair in here is the one behind the desk. The one he is about to sit on.
“Would you like a drink?” he asks.
“Whiskey, please,” I answer.
And then I remember it is not even lunchtime. And this is a job interview. For a nanny position.
Morgan gives a soft chuckle. “I know the feeling. How about coffee to tide us over?”
