Page 22 of Lethal Legacy

Then I glance at it again.

At first I think I must be misunderstanding what I’m reading. Then I feel a passionate rush of relief that I didn’t embarrass myself by finishing my initial interpretation of his words. Then, finally, I read it again and suspect this is some kind of weird joke.

“A nanny.”I stare at him in complete astonishment. “You want to hire me as ananny?”

I don’t even attempt to hide my disbelief.

“You have children?” I shake my head. “You.Children?”

I can’t reconcile it. It’s like my entire universe has just juddered off course. Roman Stevanovsky—father figure?

The same grade A asshole who reduces grown men to tears on a daily basis? Seducer of models and beloved by paparazzi?ThatRoman Stevanovsky haschildren?

“Godchildren.” Roman’s insolent smile says he’s clearly enjoying my incoherent shock. “Three of them. They are temporarily in my care, hence this contract being for a matter of months only.”

I check the contract again. There it is. Three godchildren. Aged fifteen, fourteen, and just turned five.

Who the hell was insane enough to make the devil himself the guardian of their children’s spiritual and moral well-being? Let alone leave them in his so-called care?

More to the point, why would Roman want me to look after them?

It makes not one lick of sense. Given Hale’s resources, he could hire anyone he wants. His local waitress, especially one he recently brought to an earth-shattering orgasm in this very office, hardly seems the most sensible choice.

“There must be a thousand nanny agencies in Spain. Why—?”

Oh, no. Unless . . .

“Page two, Miss Lopez.”

I flip hastily to the next page. Roman just sits there, hands behind his head, legs stretched out in front of him, watching me with a dark gleam in his eyes that does nothing to reduce the tension racing around my system.

Tension that gets worse with every word I read. Oddly enough, this one I don’t have to read twice. It’s blatant enough to leave no room for misunderstanding.

“I’d be living in your building.” I read over the lines without looking at him.

“That is a requirement, yes.”

“But not just to care for the children.”

“Your apartment is on the same floor as theirs. But no, that isn’t the only reason I require you to live in the building.” I finally meet his eyes. He’s lounging in his chair, entirely unperturbed by the extremely disturbing proposition he’s just put in my hands. “You said it yourself, Miss Lopez. You don’t have time for a personal life. Neither, as it happens, do I. I believe this arrangement meets both of our needs.”

“You want me to be your... au pair,with benefits.”

“Do you know what the literal definition of the term ‘au pair’ is, Miss Lopez?”

“Amaze me,” I mutter, still staring at the pages.

“It comes from the French term meaning ‘at par,’ or ‘equal to.’ The term is meant to indicate that the relationship is one of equals, rather than the position of a traditional domestic worker.” He watches me with still, dark eyes. “That is what I am proposing, Miss Lopez. A five-month contract between equals. One for which you will be extremely well compensated.”

Roman seems to have blithely skipped over the outrageous part of his proposal, as if it were nothing more than a meaningless subclause. I’m not sure entirely what I expected to be on offer. My new underwear is evidence enough that I was prepared forsomething. But not this. This is right out of the park.

“Just to be clear,” I say slowly, surprised I can actually talk at all. “You’re proposing that for the next five months I will live in your building. In addition to providing nanny duties for three children, I will also be providing naked duties foryou.”I glance at the wording.“As and when required, to be exact.”

“Naked duties.” The sudden narrowing of his eyes sends a savage rush of heat between my legs. “Not the term I would have used, although the idea of you naked and dutifully on your knees does have a certain appeal, Miss Lopez.”

Oh, save me.

“But essentially, yes. During the designated hours, you will be a nanny. And outside those hours, you will be mine. Exclusively.” Something dangerous flares in his eyes, there and then gone. “That part is nonnegotiable. No dates, no boyfriends. I don’t share, Miss Lopez.”

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