Page 7 of A Convenient Secret (Merged #3)

Lily

H e knows my name? He knows it’s me.

“I mean, besides destroying my house and riling up my kids when they should be winding down,” Declan continues.

His hands are in his pockets as he stands by the glass wall and stares outside while having a conversation with me. Fuck his voice. He really is a dick.

I look around at the mess, and I can see some of his annoyance may be justified.

“I didn’t destroy your house. The kids had a bad day. They didn’t know that in September, Ms. Corrine won’t be their teacher anymore.” It’s like talking to a wall. His broad back visibly tenses. “So I wanted to cheer them up.”

Okay, maybe I didn’t think it through. When we entered the party store, I was planning to get balloons, but when Zoya suggested a confetti fight, I couldn’t resist her pleading eyes. That girl is a serious charmer.

“I’m sure my housekeeper will appreciate your efforts.”

“I’ll clean it up.” I pull at the sleeves of my T-shirt, shifting from one foot to the other, feeling like I’m being judged and scolded by my father. Only my father would never scold me, or talk to me with his back to me.

“Before you do that…” He turns around. “Answer my question.”

Our eyes collide. His are so dark, they seem black. His gaze is so intense, I can practically feel myself shrinking under its ferocity. I regret all the times I wished he’d notice me.

My fingers drum on my thighs of their own accord. It’s an alarm drumming. A call for capitulation.

But I’ll be damned if this man makes me cower. I might have a crush on him—his voice—but I won’t allow him to intimidate me.

I didn’t escape my old life only to end up as someone’s doormat.

And yet my pulse quickens, my breath comes out fast and shallow. And if I allowed myself to think about it, my pussy is clenching. My nervousness is laced with yearning.

There is something wrong with me .

The air between us is charged with so many weird, unresolved feelings. Well, my conflicting feelings. Declan is just Declan—grumpy.

He takes a few steps, and now I can smell his intoxicating musk—sandalwood, and him. I almost step backward, but I stop myself. I’m not giving him the satisfaction.

“Answer the question.” His voice is chocolate—decadently washing over me despite his tone.

I swallow.

One of us must have taken another step or two, because suddenly he’s looming over me. I have to crane my neck to maintain the eye contact, and damn it, I’m not breaking it.

His jaw is tense. His gaze is burning. His presence is overwhelming.

“What was the question?” I croak.

He closes his eyes with his next deep breath and then bores his gaze back into me. “Why are you here?”

“I’m your nanny.”

He furrows his eyebrows and looks almost menacing. I guess the answer isn’t satisfactory. Oh hell, I know it isn’t. If he knows who I am, then he must be wondering why I am here. I should just confess.

I spent the day calling the agency, but nobody can get a full-time nanny here before next week. They can send a temp, but I may as well stay myself. Before I went to pick up the kids, I panicked and called in sick at Summit Solutions.

I only have three sick days without a doctor’s note, but with my days off this week, it may give me enough time until a real nanny is available.

I allowed myself a minor breakdown, because the idea of childcare scares me. I love kids and can play with them for a moment or two, but being responsible for two human beings seems daunting. Hopefully, as long as I keep them safe and entertained, I should be okay.

“Why?” he growls, losing patience.

“I work at Summit Solutions. You spoke with me on Friday, and I… well, I fucked up. The soonest I can get you a full-time nanny is next week, so here I am.” I spread my arms and smile like I’m a true gift to him.

His jaw ticks, but that’s the only movement. He doesn’t even blink, I think. A solid statue, he’s glaring at me like he’s trying to catch up for all the times he didn’t even glance my way.

Not that he had a reason to; that’s always been just my fantasy. One I need to bury rather fast if I don’t want to lose my job. Summit Solutions doesn’t tolerate client dissatisfaction.

After what feels like several lifetimes, he nods. Before I even exhale my relief, he turns and walks toward the kitchen .

Before he disappears, he looks at me and grunts. “Follow me.”

What? I rush behind him. He opens a door in the kitchen’s corner and beckons me in with his head.

I stop abruptly, shelves with cleaning supplies in front of me. “You can’t lock me in the closet,” I blurt.

I swear his lips twitch a bit before he tames them back into his usual scowl. “I wasn’t planning on it, but interesting where your mind went. You said you’ll tidy up the mess.”

Oh. I step in and reach for a broom.

“I’d use a vacuum.” He sighs. “And please don’t rile up the kids before my arrival again. I work long hours, and I need the kids well-behaved for the only two hours I can spend with them.”

What a prick. I pick up the vacuum.

“Am I understood?” he demands, and goose bumps sprout on my skin. My body is making fun of me with these reactions.

“Yes, sir,” I mock, but the joke is on me.

As soon as the words slip out of my mouth, while I’m passing him and my arm brushes his jacket, we both still. I chance a look-up and almost drop the vacuum.

Until today, Declan Quinn has never looked my way .

Today, he already looked at me with an intensity that probably scares the people he deals with.

Right now, he’s looking at me with burning curiosity. Yearning, even.

It reverberates through me, catching my breath. My cheeks are aflame, and I look away, regretting it immediately. Because now, my gaze lands on the tent in his pants.

I should walk away, but I can’t move my legs. I stare at the outline of his very hard cock, and it takes me several moments before I will my feet to move. I practically run to the living room, the large vacuum banging my leg, probably leaving a bruise.

What just happened? Yesterday I had a silly crush on the timbre of his voice, and today I call him sir, and… have I affected him like that?

I drop the appliance on the ground and rush to the powder room hidden under the stairs. Washing my face with cold water helps with the persistent blush, but does nothing to my racing heart.

I wish the odd situation would erase my stupid infatuation with him. It does the exact opposite. I’m way over my head with a man like Declan. And he probably got aroused by bossing me around… Did he?

I can’t go back out there. Are we going to pretend I didn’t see? That would probably be the best course of action .

When I finally emerge from the bathroom, I find Declan vacuuming the large rug by his sofa. Pausing, I observe him for a moment. He shed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, the sinews of his forearms bulging with every move.

I’m not sure what captivates me more… Seeing this man cleaning his house? Or just seeing him doing something, anything really?

And why on earth do I find him vacuuming so damn attractive? It’s like I saw an outline of his cock, and I’m drawn to him by some potent mixture of pheromones.

This is a disaster. I will have to run into him for an entire week. Jesus.

I step from the shadows of the staircase, and he stops, tapping casually at the top of the appliance with his foot. The humming stops.

Declan doesn’t look at me. That’s more of a familiar dynamic between us.

“See you tomorrow at seven,” he says, speaking to the space in front of him.

The scared, inexperienced girl in me is grateful he pretends nothing happened. Grateful he retreated back to being his usually aloof version of him.

Great. That’s probably for the best.

“I’m going to say goodbye to the kids.” I don’t wait for his approval and run upstairs .

He doesn’t start the vacuum until I turn the corner.

My heart is still pulsing chaotically from my encounter with Declan as I ride the subway back to Brooklyn.

What a day.

I can’t wait for a nice long shower. The good thing is that I told him about the mix-up, and he seems to have accepted the situation. Also, he knows who I am, and even knows my name. That’s a bit of a surprise.

Maybe his mom told him.

What’s not so good? I’m still in charge of keeping his kids safe and alive for a week.

While they were in kindergarten, Declan’s housekeeper showed me their rooms on the second floor, their playroom, and their schedule.

Color-coded on a board in the kitchen, it outlines all the activities.

The kids have their own driver, and sometimes, when they each have a different activity, Declan’s driver is in charge of getting Zach to and from his soccer practice.

Is he there by himself? Is the driver helping him to get changed?

Jesus. Single parenting isn’t easy. And I only got an overview on a piece of paper. It’s overwhelming. I can’t imagine how a busy man manages it all. No wonder he’s in dire need of a nanny .

Maybe easing up on their schedule might help him. Not that I would suggest that ever.

Why do all their nannies quit? I wanted to ask the housekeeper, but it felt too nosy after only fifteen minutes with her.

I can’t believe I ended up working for Declan. Only I can get into this kind of situation. Jesus.

What a day.

Though I did enjoy the confetti fight with the kids. I don’t even remember when I was last silly like that. Probably never. It felt so liberating.

It was so nice to see them unleash their uncensored side. Declan may be upset about his precious carpet—arguably, there are less messy ways to have fun—but those kids needed to let go.

I don’t know where their mother is, and obviously their father’s time is limited. Still, they are adorable. Such beautiful little souls.

I try to think about them, because thinking about their father is super confusing. It makes me hot. It tingles between my legs. But mostly, it invades my mind with thoughts and images I have no right to think or picture.