Page 7 of Twins for the Silver Foxes

Part of me trusted Scott King. The other part told me to run far and run fast. He felt familiar and honorable, which made no sense. I’d never met the man before, so how could I even consider trusting him? My intuition was shit. I realized that after my scumball ex left me to raise Liddy alone. Chad Duvall had a trust fund to spend, and he’d been appalled at the idea of spending a dime of that money on his daughter.

I must admit,an attractive older man approaching me at a coffee shop with the promise of a job did seem suspicious. Liddy took precedence in my life. Everything I did was with her in mind. I’d given her priority since the day my pregnancy test turned up positive.

We left yetanother store where the manager adamantly claimed they were not a daycare and made our way toward a park I’d spotted a block down the street. Liddy’s boundless energy demanded frequent breaks. She’d need dinner soon. Ieyed my watch, my heart lurching at the late hour, and nibbled on a cracker as my stomach grumbled for real food.

I punchedScott’s address into my maps app and zoomed in on the mansion. A low whistle passed my lips. Liddy bounced over, her hair flying around her face, a purple smear of jam coloring her lower lip. She climbed into my lap and tapped my phone. “Pretty.”

“Yes, it’s beautiful.”Beautiful and dangerous, like the man who lived there. I’d already done a bit of research on Scott King, and the results caused my interest to waver. The articles touted him as an honorable man who gave hundreds of thousands of dollars to charity every year and still had enough money to make women—and men—crawl out of the woodwork to see him.

Didhe consider me a charity case? Why offer me a job? The short burst of attraction I’d felt for him seared my synapses and sent heat flooding into my belly.

None of that,I reminded myself while standing and pulling Liddy onto my hip. Scott seemed genuine with his offer. The least I could do was check out the job. What was one interview?

The risk weighed on my shoulders. If he was a con artist intending to kidnap me, I had no one to come to my rescue. Hell, I didn’t even have a friend I could text to tell them where I was headed and to call the police if I didn’t check in later.

“I’m hungry.”Liddy grumbled and fisted her hands into her eyes. Hungry and tired. Not the best combination.

My feet achedfrom the miles we’d walked today. Miles that accounted for nothing more than blisters on my feet and a moody toddler in my arms. “Let’s go see Mr. King.” I cleaned the jam from her lip and smoothed her hair from her flushed cheeks. “Then we’ll go home.”

I bookeda car and we rode in relative peace and quiet. If things went wrong, I’d have no one to blame but myself. Dad’s death seven years ago hardened me to most things I had to do on my own, and with Liddy to protect, I threw up all my shields against Scott’s charming nature.

The driver pulledaround the circular drive and parked. He leaned toward the passenger window and gazed up at the massive stone mansion. “Nice digs.”

“Not mine.”I spoke hard and quick while paying for the trip and sliding from the car. Liddy took my hand and scampered up the white marble steps. All twelve of them. By the time we reached the top and I pressed the doorbell, I wanted to change my mind and bolt back to the car. We did not belong here.

Bells rang throughout the house,the long chimes trailing off and leaving Liddy gazing upward with wide-eyed excitement.

A latch clickedand the door opened. A tall man with silver hair and brilliant blue eyes stood in front of us. His mouth was pressed into a flat line, the wrinkle in his forehead deepening as he looked me over. “Can I help you?” A strong British accent saturated the words.

“I’m Hannah. Hannah Williams.”I swallowed hard, realizing I’d never given Mr. King my name. “I’m here for a five o’clock interview.” I tightened my grip on Liddy’s hand. This man must be the butler. The house was certainly big and fancy enough to need multiple staff. “I’d like to speak to the owner. He invited me.”

A surprisingly raspychuckle escaped him as he smiled. “I’m Arthur. I own this house.”

I took a step back,dragging Liddy with me. “I’m sorry. I must have the wrong address.” I rattled off the number I’d memorized this morning, then showed him the picture of the business card on my phone.

“You are at the right place.”His accent deepened. “Please, come in. Scott said you would be here.” He swept an arm through the air, ushering me into the brightly lit foyer. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, a ceiling so high overhead that our voices echoed. “This way.” Arthur closed the door then moved past us. His steps were quick but he shortened his stride after glancing down at Liddy.

We leftthe foyer behind and followed Arthur into a study. Sconces with bright lights accented the walls, spilling onto the rows of books. Leather chairs occupied several spaces around the room. Scott lounged in one of them, his legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. He winked at a man beside him. “There she is. My mystery coffee woman.” Scott poked the blond haired man in the shoulder.

I tried notto stare but how could I not? The three men in front of me were a complete contrast to each other. Arthur, with his silver hair and dry British accent. Scott, with his warm green eyes and playful charm. And a third man who wore his curly blond hair down around his face, watching me with a thoughtful look in his brown eyes. He stood and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Welcome to our home.” His nod of acceptance unlocked the tenseness in my spine.

Liddy pulled at my hand.I tried to shush her pleas to explore.

“Hannah, would you like to sit?”Arthur motioned toward one of the chairs. “Your daughter can play if she likes.”

I stoppedmyself from making a snarky remark that there was nothing to play with in this room when Scott pushed a chair aside, revealing what looked like a brand new set of dolls, stuffed animals, and a trio of children’s books nestled into a corner.

Three charming smilesthreatened to further disarm me.Careful,Hannah. The warning came in Dad’s voice, the one I’d heeded all my life until Chad.

Liddy wastedno time bolting across the room and falling to her knees amid the toys. I tried to smile, but the sight of her happy face almost sent me spiraling into tears instead. That was the look I wanted her to have on Christmas morning when she opened her gifts. That was the look I wanted her to have every day.

Arthur satwith the stiff posture of a man with a stick up his ass. I stifled a giggle when he steepled his hands in front of his lips. “Scott gave you an idea of what we need, yes?”

“Um,no, actually. He only mentioned housekeeping.” I sank into the nearest chair that gave me access to Liddy and the door, facing all three men.

The sound Arthurmade reminded me of a tea kettle about to boil over. “Right. Well, let’s start with introductions. You’ve already met Scott and I am Arthur. That’s Ryland.” He pointed both index fingers at the blond man, then tapped his fingers to his lips.

No wonderI’d thought him a butler. He had the rigidity and personality of a broom.

---