“Living in fear is no way to live at all.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat.
“Now, tell me more about you,” she says, her tone and demeanor shifting faster than the tide. “Because I know I shouldn’t say this, but I think my brother-in-law has a small thing for you.”
I choke. On nothing. Like actually start hacking up a lung, and poor Zayer is bouncing about on my lap and throwing mewhat the fucklooks. Can three-year-olds give that look? I don’t know, but he’s mastering it as well as his father does.
“Sorry, young prince. My apologies, Little Highness.”
He shrugs and returns to his lunch, but Bellamy isn’t having it.
She laughs, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Ah. I see. The feeling is mutual.”
I shake my head adamantly. “No, Madam. It’s not. I was simply shocked you’d say that. I’m no one. A housekeeper. He’s not even particularly kind to me. The prince doesn’t like me at all.”
“Sebastian didn’t like me much either at first. But it was only a matter of time before all that tension and chemistry we’d been fighting snapped.”
16
ROWAN
Ispot Marcella first. Her blonde hair glimmers like wheat fields against the sun. She laughs, her head thrown back as Bellamy’s hands wave wildly in the air. Zayer is on Marcella’s lap, tucked against her like it’s the most natural place for him to be. This shouldn’t affect me. Zayer has sat on Emily’s lap numerous times, and Marcella is simply a temporary Emily.
But like everything with this woman, it does.
I smelled her, brushed my lips along her cheek. She didn’t smell like Ella. Ella smelled like a cold winter’s night, and I needed to test that for myself because, where so many other things about that feel uncertain, I remember how she smelled.
Marcella smells like soap and shampoo. Clean and a bit floral with something underneath it that I liked way too damn much.
“Mommy!” the girls scream, running up to Bellamy when they find her.
“We just went on the biggest roller coaster ever!” Sabrina is practically vibrating with excitement and adrenaline.
“Yes, and now they’restarving,” I dramatize, imitating theirvoices.
“We just had calzones,” Bellamy tells them, wrapping an arm around both girls. “They were delicious. Would you like that or something else?”
“Calzone!” they both chip.
“I’d be happy to get you all some,” Marcella offers.
“Marcella, you haven’t gone on any rides,” Bellamy interjects.
Marcella laughs it off. “I didn’t expect to, Bellamy. It’s fine. Really, I’m happy to get everyone their lunch. It’s my duty here.”
“Nonsense. Rowan, take her on a roller coaster or something. She’s never been on one.”
That catches my attention. Sheltered or not, even the children have been on rides.
“Is that true?”
Marcella looks away, possibly a bit put out that Bellamy outed her that way.
“Marcella?” I press.
“Yes, it’s true, but honestly, it’s fine.”
“What do you think, girls? Should we take Marcella on a ride before we all eat and let Mommy and Zayer have a rest?”
