Page 42 of The Billionaire's Temporary Governess (French Conquests 2)

She nodded sheepishly.

“To be honest, I feel more concern for that poor kid than I do over the circumstances of his conception, because by the time Sofia got pregnant, there hadn’t been anything between us in years, as I told you. I’m just sorry he has to grow up without a mom, and I’m glad his father decided to keep him here in France, so Willa could have a chance to know her half-brother.”

Naisha was staring up into his face with an expression that made him uncomfortable. “So, you aren’t mad?”

“At you?”

She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “I thought so badly of you.”

He made a joke about it. “You mean, as opposed to the blind adoration you showed when you got here?”

She looked fit to punch him again, so he hastily added, “It’s fine. Given the information you had at your disposal, I can see why you came to the conclusion you did. And I’m sorry for not being more open with you from the start.”

He took her hand. “I’m just glad you’re here for Willa during this phase of her life. In the months you’ve been here, you’ve spent more time with my daughter than Sofia did in nine years of Willa’s life. She loves you very much. I hope you stay here past the summer.”

She groaned. “Sounds an awful lot like emotional blackmail.”

He gave her a sly grin. “Is it working?”

She pondered. “For now, it is. But I can’t be here forever. I have a life to get back to and goals to accomplish.”

“Which are?” He was openly curious.

“Don’t laugh, okay?”

“I swear.” He held up his right hand, and that madeherlaugh.

“I want to have a kid one day. Maybe in Guadeloupe, stay there for a few years so my baby can know their roots.”

It killed him to think of her going leaving and absolutely did his head in to think that she might be planning to have a baby with someone else. He couldn’t fathom her being with another man, the way she’s been with him. Did she have a father in mind? Could it be the man she has a complicated relationship with?

“What about you?” There was a note of desperation in her voice, as if she was trying to deflect their conversation, so he let it go.

“My plans? Well, much of my life’s script was written for me before I was born, so I suppose I will remain here and attend to my duties. See about my family and raise Willa.”

“More kids?” She blushed again, madly, when she asked.

Not likely,he thought. “I’m more than satisfied with the kid I have right now.”

There’s no way I am ever going to fall again into that trap of love and marriage. He turned to the keyboard and began a rendition of Für Elise that would have made Beethoven weep with joy.

Naisha watched as Willa trotted happily into the pool house to get dressed after their swimming lesson. The girl was due to meet her father for lunch up at the château in ten minutes. She began collecting pool noodles, swim fins, and goggles, various pieces of bric-à-brac that Willa always insisted on toting down to the water, even though her swimming was well past the swim fin stage.

“Bonjour, Naisha.”

The voice made her jump. It was Madeline, who had entered the pool area so silently that she had never even heard her coming.

Hurriedly, she snatched up a large, fluffy towel and wrapped it around her body, cursing herself for wearing a bikini. She was sure that Madeline wouldn’t think such revealing attire was worthy of her position as a governess. “Oh, hi.”

Why am I so nervous?she asked herself guiltily, but she was honest enough in herself to admit that since she and Liam had begun sleeping together, she’d begun to avoid his mother, without trying to make it look like a snub. She just seemed to be busy with something else whenever Madeline wandered into their wing for a visit. Because what would happen if the older woman read the look on her face, that look of satisfaction a woman always had when on the receiving end of excellent, regular sex?

“Oh, I expected Willa to be here,” Madeline said nonchalantly.

Naisha gestured at the pool house. “She’s gone to get dressed. She’s meeting her papa for lunch.”

Madeline’s brows arched. “Aren’t you joining them?”

“Who? Me? Oh, of course not. I never—”

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