Page 43 of Tangled Trust

"I wish I could take Dash with me," he groans.

"I’m sure Dash would love that. But, you know mom is allergic to him."

"That’s so silly," he says, folding his arms in frustration.

"I hear you, buddy."

"Come, sweetheart," Ella smiles and leads Jagger away.

"Be good!" I call after the little guy.

"I will," he calls back.

* * *

It’s close to midnight, and I can’t sleep. Most of the spots have gone, but the temptation to scratch remains. Perhaps that’s not the only itch that needs tending to. I sit up in bed so as to better ponder my self-imposed misery.

She’s just down the hall, you know. You could knock out a quick one and sleep like a baby afterward.

This isn’t helpful. A glass of warm milk used to do the trick when I couldn’t sleep as a child. What the heck? It’s worth a shot.

I make my way to the kitchen. I love it when everyone is asleep. Sometimes I feel like I’m a guest in my own home with the staff going about their tasks. I hand-picked every one of my staff, so I enjoy their personalities and appreciate their skills. But sometimes a man just wants to roam his castle without eyes on him.

Movement from the far corner of the kitchen catches my eye. Damn it. So much for being alone. Who could be wandering around the place at this time of night? Why aren’t they asl…

Oh, shit! It’s Ella. My heart, along with a few other organs, leaps into action. Oh, no. She’s wearing a lace ensemble that doesn’t leave much to the imagination, and try as I might, I cannot control my growing admiration for her fantastic form.

Worst of all, my shorts aren’t doing much to help me hide my erection. This is so humiliating. I try to move away before she sees me, but it’s no good. I bump into the pots that are dangling above the cooker, causing a cacophony of metal noises as the pots bang against one another.

Ella whizzes around.

"Oh, I’m so sorry. I…"

"No, please," I mumble. "It’s fine. I…"

"Can’t sleep either?" she asks me. I watch in horror as her eyes roam my figure and settle, briefly, on my manhood.

I position myself behind the counter in a feeble attempt to hide my excitement, but I fear that ship has sailed. Ella looks rather awkward herself. She is pulling on her nightie, moving it away from her breasts. Even so, I can see her nipples through the gossamer material.

"Uh, no. I figured a glass of warm milk would do the trick," I waffle.

This is beyond awkward. I’d better get the hell out of the kitchen before I nail her on the counter between the fruit bowl and the microwave oven.

"Great minds think alike," she smiles bashfully. "Can I include you in my sleep remedy?" she asks, pointing to the glass in her hand.

Crunch time, Carter. Stay and bang her brains out, or leave with your dignity, or what’s left of it, intact?

I choose the former, even though everything that’s logical inside my mind is screaming for me to get away from the scantily clad Au Pair.

"If you don’t mind."

I watch as Ella pulls a glass from the shelf and moves toward the fridge to retrieve the milk. She is so perfect.

"Sugar?"

"No thanks."

Leave, you fool. Run!

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