I cringed. “B-but I don’t know the first thing about kids.”
He raked a hand through his hair and leaned back in his seat. “Listen, you won’t be alone with the kids. Adam, our butler, would be hands-on. Only, he’s—” He sighed. “Let’s just say the kids would be a handful for the old man.”
I chewed my bottom lip. After several months of temp waitressing jobs, I finally got a permanent position in Trent’s restaurant, thanks mainly to Jenna’s friend. Given the Michelin three-star status, standards were high. It had taken seven months to prove my worth before he made me a floor manager. A position I’d doted on since it brought me closer to my passion for cooking. Occasionally the senior chef allowed me to dabble in the kitchen, and whatever I prepared was served to the staff for dinner. With his guidance, my skills were growing, and I hoped to make it a long-term career one day. Trent, an influential restauranteur with franchises in all five continents, wasn’t an easy boss, but he’d been patient with my efforts. His motto in life, ‘Take a risk, just for the sheer pleasure of it.’
Now, as I surveyed his tense features, I wondered if I could afford to take a risk? A mess up with his kids, could cost me my job. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’m not the right person,” I mumbled. “What about Pam?” I referred to our fifty-something front desk receptionist.
“What about Pam?” He cast a dubious look at me.
“Can’t she help? I mean, she’s been with you for what—almost five years now, and well, she seems like the mommy type.”
Trent let out a deep, throaty laugh. “If you’re privy to the grapevine, girl, you’ll know Pam is anything but. She’s a spinster by choice and has no interest in kids. Her skill set lies in the art of whips and chains.” He chuckled.
Hot color flooded my cheeks. “Oh. I had no idea.”
“Why would you?” One dark brow lifted. As if implying I wouldn’t be into that sort of thing.
I grinned. While I never understood the whole dynamics behind erotica, a certain man’s controlled domination over both my body and senses tickled my memory and warmed my soul.
“I’m sorry, Sianna. It’s not fair to ask this of you,” Trent’s apology cut through my reflections. “My kids aren’t exactly charming, but they’re good kids. You’ll get along perfectly. I am sure they’d rather be stuck with a beautiful young woman than some old boring gran.” He thrust both hands through his dark hair. “I’ll be gone for three days, well four to be precise, and I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t a last-ditch effort.”
I held his gaze, and despite the growing apprehension, I suffered a mild case of sympathy. I was, as Ruvash would say, a sucker for punishment. “Fine. I’ll help. Just this once. Okay?” I relented, unsure what I was getting myself into.
Trent breathed a visible sigh of relief. “Thank you, Sianna. You’re a lifesaver.”
****
THE NEXT DAY, DRIVINGdown the long palm fronded driveway, I observed my surroundings with mild trepidation. The beauty did nothing to comfort my tangled nerves. I’d dealt with some tough cookies over time, but I doubted anything could have prepared me for this role. Why then had I agreed to help Trent? What the hell did I know about kids?
By the time I parked the car and pressed the buzzer, I was still nowhere closer to convincing myself I’d done the right thing. The door opened by a tall elderly man with short white hair, a black butler’s uniform accompanied by a gallant smile.
“Good afternoon, Miss.” His accent was very formal.
I offered him an equally warm smile. “Good afternoon, my name is Sianna.”
“Oh yes, we’ve been expecting you, Miss,” he stepped back and swung the door wide to allow me entrance. “This way, Miss.” He preceded me down a long passage to a massive kitchen. “This is Master Nicky and Miss Neha,” the formality of his introductions made me smile.
The children rose from their seats at the breakfast counter. “Hi, I am Sianna.” They were as adorable like their father, sporting the same shade of deep blue eyes, only theirs held a merry twinkle.
“Hello, Miss Sianna,” they offered in unison.
“Aww, you guys are the cutest,” I gushed, accepting their proffered hands in a gentle handshake and half expecting Neha to curtsy. When they retook their seats, I turned to the butler. “And you must be Adam?”
“Yes, Miss.” Pulling out another seat at the table, he gestured for me to sit.
“You’re British?”
“Yes. I arrived here when Master Trent was a lad. His mother, God rest her soul, was a lovely lady. And even when she was gone, I couldn’t leave,” he explained.
I noticed Adam didn’t mention the father, just like I’d never seen any photos of the man in Trent’s office, only his mother, wife, and kids. Pam once mentioned his father left his mother when Trent was relatively young, but I hadn’t bothered to ask any questions. “Don’t you miss home?”
“Oh no, it’s been almost twenty-five years. This is my home.”
“What about your family?”
“My wife is here with me. Unfortunately, no children.” He smiled. “Can I offer you a cup of tea?”
“That would be nice, thank you.” I shifted my gaze to the kids. They munched on their mid-afternoon snack of scones and tea. “So, how old are you guys.” Although I knew the answer, I needed to open a line of conversation.
