top floor is my apartment, yes.”
“It’s quite spacious.”
“You don’t make that sound like a question,” he replied, leaning back in his chair.
“It’s not,” she answered, before thanking the waiter who presented her with a silver menu. She glanced down at it, scanning the delectable offerings. She could have been perfectly happy with just pâté and toast but once she spotted the flat-iron steak she knew what she wanted.
After ordering, Marcu got straight to the point. “I do need you, urgently. I would have liked to leave tonight, but obviously it’s too late now. So I’ll organize travel for the morning—”
“Marcu, I haven’t said yes.”
“But you will.”
She rolled her eyes, frustrated, and yet part of her frustration was based on the truth in his words. She did owe him. “January would be so much better for me.”
“I’ve already told you, I have a conference in the Far East in January, and I would like to have things sorted by then.”
“Sorted as in...?”
“Married, with Vittoria at home with the children. I worry more about the children when I am far away. This way they’d have their nanny, Miss Sheldon, who’s on leave at the moment, and a mother—”
“But they don’t have a close relationship with this new mother, do they?”
“They’ve been introduced.”
She felt a bubble of incredulous laughter. “I don’t know who to feel more sorry for, your future wife, or your children. Where is your sensitivity—?”
“Oh, that’s long gone. I’m as hard as they come now.”
“Your poor future wife.”
“I’m not romantic. I never have been.”
“So says the man who loved opera? Who’d listen to Puccini for hours?”
“You loved opera. I simply supported your passion.”
She eyed him, trying to come to terms with this new version of Marcu. He was so hard to stomach. “You do know you’d be better off hiring a new nanny, or even two, to job-share than trying to fix things by acquiring a wife. Wives do come with feelings—”
“Not all women require extravagant gestures. Vittoria is quite practical. And I’m hoping you can be practical, too. I’ll pay you one hundred thousand euros for the next five weeks,” he added. “Hopefully that will adequately cover any lost wages from Bernard’s.”
“And if they don’t take me back afterward?”
“You will continue to earn twenty thousand euros a week until I find you a new position.”
She was intrigued and appalled. “That’s a lot of money.”
“My children are worth it.”
“So you are still consumed with guilt over your wife’s death.”
“I’m not consumed with guilt, just determined to make amends. They are very good children, but they are also in need of a mother. I do not, and cannot, meet all their needs, which is why I’m determined to marry again. A mother will be better equipped to handle their ups and downs and various emotions.”
“This mother you speak of will be practically a stranger to them.”
“But they will form a relationship. I don’t expect it to happen overnight, but I do believe it will happen eventually, and I imagine when a new baby arrives, the children will be excited to have a new brother or sister.”
Monet studied him for a long moment. Did he really think his children, who had already been deprived of a mother, would welcome the competition of a new baby for their father’s attention? “I remember you studied finance at university. It’s a shame you didn’t study more psychology. Creating a new family isn’t an easy thing, and children who have been through loss and heartbreak don’t always welcome more change.”
“I don’t expect them to understand immediately. They are still very young but their innocence is also to their advantage. They will be grateful for a permanent mother figure. As it is they are very attached to their current nanny, and I fear the day Miss Sheldon leaves us for good.”
“I thought your nanny was only on temporary leave?”
“So she is, but I see the writing on the wall. It’s only a matter of time.” He hesitated. “Miss Sheldon has fallen in love with my pilot. They’ve been secretly dating for the past year. They don’t think I know, but neither of them are as discreet as they imagine.”
“Your nanny couldn’t marry and continue working for you?”
“They will want to start a family of their own. She’s in her thirties. I know how these things go. She’s not our first nanny, nor will she be the last.”
“But she hasn’t left yet—”
“I don’t care to discuss Miss Sheldon with you. I’m simply informing you that you will not lose any wages while you work for me.”
His brusque tone put her teeth on edge. His arrogance was beyond off-putting. The very idea of working for him made her nauseous. She’d had so many feelings for him, but none of them involved being his employee. She didn’t want him as her superior. The idea of having to answer to him made her want to stand up and storm out. She’d thought she’d loved him once—desperately, passionately—but he’d deemed her unsuitable. Unworthy.
Suddenly she flashed back to another conversation, one between Marcu and his father as they’d discussed how inappropriate Monet was for someone of Marcu’s stature. That Monet might be sweet and charming but she was the kind of woman you took as your mistress, not as your wife.
To hear this at eighteen. To be so painfully and thoroughly dismissed, reduced—marginalized—at only eighteen. It had changed her forever.
“I can’t work for you,” she said in a low voice. “I can’t be at your beck and call.”
“I won’t be around after the first few days. I’ll only be there to get you settled and then I’m taking Vittoria to Altapura for Christmas. She loves to ski. She’s a very good skier, too, so unless something unexpected happens, we’ll return just after New Year.”
“You won’t be spending the holidays with your children?” she asked, confused.
“No. That’s the whole point of me seeking you out. I won’t be with them this year, but you will be.”
Monet felt another welling of pity for his children. It was also difficult to believe that Marcu had become such a cold, pragmatic man. He’d been so warm and kind when he was younger. He’d been a very loving, and much-adored, big brother. “Do they know this?”
“They know that it’s going to be a different kind of holiday this year. I haven’t
