12
ROWAN
“Oncle Rowan, watch me jump off the high board!” Phaedra calls out, her hands waving wildly through the air, her long blonde hair wet and clinging to her small body.
“I’m watching, my darling.”
Without a second of fear, she jumps, plummeting like a knife, straight down into the water, where she slices through it and comes up with a jubilant grin.
I clap for her, then Sabrina and Zayer get in on the attention-seeking. It’s all Oncle Rowan this and Oncle Rowan that.
“Watch me, watch me!” Zayer cries, his arms flailing, fighting against the restraint of the swim vest he’s in. Sebastian and Althea are sitting at the table in the corner under the umbrella, deep in conversation while continuously throwing side-eyes at the children in the water. All three are excellent swimmers, and Zayer is in his floaty. Plus, I’m here.
Poor Bellamy had a bad headache this morning and didn’t even make it down for breakfast. Marcella brought it up to her in bed since that’s what Emily would have done for her. That’swhat Sebastian and Althea are discussing. Help for Bellamy, who is anI can do it all myselfkind of woman.
I respect that about her, but she genuinelycan’tdo it all by herself.
I haven’t seen Marcella in two days. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been tracking her on the cameras, because I have been, but I haven’t been in her presence again since the other morning. I can’t be alone with her. It’s become my new rule I promise to heed. I get near her, and I react.
I flirt, I tease, I prowl. The one thing I haven’t done is touch, but I’ve come so close. Hell, I fucking smelled her hair when I whispered in her ear. It has to stop.
She found my drawings. The ones on my desk aren’t anything. They’re just sketches for passing the time.
But the ones in my portfolio are different.
And she saw at least one from my night with Ella.
I got there just as she opened it, and I watched her expression. The heat and lust that climbed up her face and darkened her eyes. It got me hard. Almost instantly. I couldn’t help but wonder if it made her wet. If she imagined that she was the woman on the bed with my fingers and mouth on her cunt or riding my cock until she came.
I taunted her. I couldn’t help myself.
I wanted to pin her to the wall, lift her frumpy gray dress, and touch her the way she had touched my drawings.
So since that moment, I haven’t been near her.
Watching her is simply because I don’t trust her and nothing more, though all I’ve seen is her doing her job. I also checked the video from my night with Ella. It’s not something I’ve done in a few months, but I did look at it for comparison.
There are similarities there.
The slope of their noses and the lift of their chins. The paleness of their skin, though, Marcella has more of a sun-kissedglow to her. But Ella’s face is wider, longer, and the shape of her eyes is different—even different from what I remember.
She looked different than the mental image I have of her, which is odd to me. The image I have is closer to Marcella’s, but then again, I was drunk that night, and memories warp with time like water-logged wood.
“Come swim with us!” Sabrina demands, doing flips underwater as many times as she can before she has to stop to catch her breath. They’re bored. They haven’t left the palace much since Charlotte. I know Bellamy is pushing for the summer festival, and I think it’s a good idea too. Maybe the curse attacks in threes, and now it’s done.
Samil, Bellamy’s father dying, and Charlotte.
My father dying, Desta being taken, and Brea getting sick.
Then again, there’s what happened to Nora. Shit. Fuck if I know how this works, but we can’t stop living either.
I pull off my T-shirt and chuck it onto a nearby lounge chair, kick off my flip-flops, and drop to the edge of the pool before going all the way in. The water is cool, but not cold, and feels refreshing against the blazing summer sun. The children take turns swimming up to me, splashing me, and daring me to chase them, which I do. I become the shark, and they’re the fish. They’re all smiles, climbing on me and dunking me under the water. Even Arthur gets in on it, swimming and swirling around the children.
Being with them warms my heart like nothing else.
They have no clue Bellamy was taken by Charlotte. All they were told was that Charlotte had to leave and that, for now, they wouldn’t be getting a new nanny. As much as we can maintain their innocence, I’m in. I don’t like bringing in new people, and something about Marcella is triggering that.
Well, she’s triggering a lot of things in me that I wish she weren’t.
