I freeze.
Drake is there.
He’s sitting on the edge of the couch, one leg draped casually over the other, wearing dark jeans and a hoodie. His hair is messy, his eyes tired, but when he looks up and sees me, it’s like getting struck by lightning. My whole body goes rigid.
He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t even blink. He just watches me silently, but I can see the surprise behind his eyes.
For a second, I imagine I’m back in my bedroom, writhing on the sheets, crying out his name as I come harder than I ever havein my life. The memory is so raw and vivid, I’m sure everyone in the room can see it on my face.
My cheeks burn.
The other two men stand as we enter. One is tall and lean, with chestnut-brown hair, glasses, and a calm, analytical gaze. He’s wearing a crisp button-down and dark pants, looking every inch the intellectual alpha. The other is massive, even taller than Kieran, with long dark hair pulled into a man bun, golden-brown eyes, and arms covered in black ink. He looks like the bouncer at a really exclusive nightclub, but his posture is oddly gentle, hands folded in front of him.
The little girl doesn’t even look up from her book.
Kieran clears his throat. “Gentlemen, this is Francine. She’ll be our new nanny.”
I can feel their gazes on me, hot and assessing. The one with the glasses gives me a polite smile. The tattooed one just nods, his eyes lingering a little too long on my face.
“I thought nannies were supposed to be old,” he growls, and I blush.
“Hi,” I say, feeling out of place here.
The girl finally puts her book down. “Are you my new babysitter?”
Her voice is small but confident. I kneel to her level, careful not to get too close.
“Yes,” I say. “I’m Francine. What’s your name?”
She sighs, like she’s had to answer this question a thousand times. “Nora. I’m eight. That’s Drake, Rowan, and Elias.” She points at each brother in turn, then holds up her book. “Have you ever read The Wolf of Rue Morgue?”
I nod. “I loved that one when I was your age. Isn’t there a secret code hidden in the chapter titles?”
Her eyes light up. “Yes! Nobody else ever notices. Did you find all the clues?”
I grin. “I think I found most of them. But you’ll have to tell me if I missed any.”
Nora beams at me, and for the first time since I arrived, I feel something loosen in my chest.
The one with the glasses, Elias, stands and extends a hand. His grip is warm, firm, and he holds my gaze just a moment longer than necessary.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Francine,” he says. His voice is smooth, almost hypnotic. “We’ve heard good things from your agency.”
Rowan, the tattooed giant, nods and offers a handshake as well. His hand dwarfs mine, but he’s gentle, as if afraid he’ll crush my fingers.
“Hey,” he says, voice so deep it rumbles in my bones.
Drake is the last to stand. He moves with a lazy grace, as if he’s got all the time in the world. He takes my hand, his palm warm and rough.
“Drake,” he says, acting like he doesn’t know me. For a second, I think he’s going to say something about what happened, about the night he broke into my apartment and held me while I cried in my sleep.
But he just nods, lets go of my hand, and sits back down. Like I’m a stranger.
It stings more than I want to admit.
“How do you like the tea?” asks Kieran, watching me as I take a sip while we’re sitting in their home library.
The library takes up the entire west wing, with a domed glass ceiling and dark-wood shelves that stretch up three stories.
