Page 6 of Kingpin's Nanny
“There are a lot of cafes in King’s Cross,” I point out.
“I haven’t got much money.” Her smile is brave.
“Did they pay you what you’re owed?”
She hesitates, then shakes her head. “Not yet.”
That meant they never would. “How immediately did you have to leave?”
“They uh, decided to send their youngest child—she’s only seven—to boarding school.” Her voice holds a tremor of distress. “They didn’t want to upset her by telling her in advance, so they didn’t tell me either.” She pauses, and I can see her turning the situation in her mind, finding the positive. “I had enough time to pack up my stuff quickly.”
Despite everything I just said about not caring, I’m furious. She isn’t saying it, but they threatened her. Turfed her out in some way that made her think she’d have been in danger if she had stayed for one more minute. “Their reference is on your CV?”
“Yes, but?—”
“That’s fine.” It’ll be adequate information for me to find and deal with them. They’ll find out that travel comes with arisk. “You have the job. You start today, accommodation is provided, and I’ll pay you in advance.”
“Thank you!” Her lips fall open and her eyes shine as she looks up at me. I have a flash of a vision. That pink mouth taking my cock as I tell her how good she makes me feel. As I violate her sweetness.
I step backwards, and fold my arms again.
“Don’t thank me,” I growl.
This girl, my god. I do not take women into my bed. I never had any enthusiasm for those drawn by power or danger, even before I was a kingpin. It’s always been me and my hand when I wanted to relieve some tension.
I shouldn’t employ her. She’s a temptation made perfectly for me. I can feel an emotion rising that I’ve never felt before. I’m obsessed. I’m compelled by her.
Love.
I’ve fallen in love at first sight, with a girl who is almost half my age.
Fuck.
Removing myself from the lure of her perfection is a physical effort as I return to my desk.
I rattle off the perks of being employed by King’s Cross—minus the travel discounts—and add that she’ll have the whole of the sixth floor as her own space. That will keep her far away from my bedroom, on the top floor, but in my house. As I’ve talked, I’ve found her application, which thankfully includes her bank details. I pay an excessively generous advance via bank transfer.
“Thank you, that’s very thorough. I was just wondering though, should we discuss time off?” she asks tentatively.
I scowl. Days without her? Absolutely not. I’m going to sound unreasonable, but no. She’s not leaving my sphere of influence. “You’re a nanny.”
“I do need some days not working.” She presses her lips together.
“Which ones?” I growl.
“Sundays.”
“Before Ivy goes to school on Monday? No.”
She blinks. “Saturdays then.”
“You think I have time to entertain my niece every week?” I reply, as though I haven’t put literally everything on hold to look after Ivy since the last nanny left suddenly to care for her illfather. I need her to back down on this, so I go for broke. “Do you consider my job unimportant?”
“No.” She looks down, chastened. “No, of course not.”
I let the silence draw out.
“What about bank holidays?”