her.
Good. Finally, he felt as though the advantage was swinging back toward him.
She brushed past him; the subtle scent of her flowery perfume surrounded him as she sat down behind her desk. She reached for a piece of monogrammed paper and drew it toward her.
“Conner is three?” she asked. “What kind of nanny are you looking for?”
“You. I have spoken to Mal and he said you were the best. And I’ve read your parenting articles—I like your theories on child rearing.”
“Thank you,” she said, bowing her head slightly. “Why don’t you have a seat while we discuss this?”
“I’m comfortable here,” he said.
She gave him a tight smile. He bit the inside of his mouth to keep from smiling back. He was unnerving her. He liked it.
“Will your wife be part of the interview process for the nanny?” Gabi asked.
“She’s dead.”
“Oh,” she said, looking up at him. “I’m sorry, Kingsley.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “Conner doesn’t remember her at all. It happened when he was six months old.”
“What have you been doing for child care up to now?” she asked.
He’d been using his assistant, Peri, but she’d gotten married last month and was retiring. “My assistant. How soon can you start?”
“I can’t.”
“What?”
“I don’t nanny anymore. I have a couple of nannies that are coming off assignments in the next week or so. I can set up some interviews for you, and I’d like to meet your son myself. Where is he?”
“With Hunter,” Kingsley said. Hunter and he had been a great duo on the field in college, and after Stacia’s death, Hunter had stopped playing football, being the second son of a privileged family. Hunter hadn’t needed to work, so he had spent the past few years building his reputation as a playboy. Plus the stigma of being charged with the “Frat House Murder” hadn’t helped.
“Um...we need to talk about that. He’s got a wild reputation. I can’t place one of my nannies in your home if he’s going to be there.”
“He won’t be a problem,” Kingsley said. “I don’t want one of your nannies. I want you, Gabi.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not in the field anymore.”
“I’ll make it worth your while,” he said. If there was one thing he’d learned from his father, Jeb Buchanan, it was that everyone had a price. Many people believed his father had bought Kingsley’s freedom and the silence of witnesses. But Jeb had a strong sense of justice and no one, not even his wayward younger son, could escape that. His father still wasn’t convinced that Kingsley was innocent in Stacia’s death.
But after Kingsley was done with his revenge, there would be no doubt as to who was responsible for her death.
“I can’t be bought.”
“No? What if I offered to fund the new playground you have been trying to get built?” he asked.
Gabi wouldn’t do it for herself, but he remembered her soft heart and how she’d do anything for a good cause. He wondered if that had changed.
She chewed her lower lip and looked down at the paper in front of her.
It hadn’t.
His gut was still right on the money when it came to this woman.
“We are talking a six-figure sum, Kingsley. Is my being a nanny to Conner worth that much?”
It was. He needed her to watch over his son and he needed her recollections of that party the night Stacia had died. Once he had her living under his roof, he’d be able to get the answers he needed.
There were certain parts of the night that didn’t add up. And everyone he and Hunter had spoken to had a different version of the events. So whether it took six figures or nine, it didn’t matter. He needed to put the ghosts of the past to rest. And Gabi was the only woman who could help him do that.
“Yes,” he said. “I’ll need you in my home by this evening. I’ve left my address with your assistant.”
“I’ve agreed to be Conner’s nanny, but that’s it. I’m not living in,” she said.
“For the amount I’m paying, I think you are,” he said.
He stood up and starting walking to the door. He’d accomplished what he’d set out to do. It was time to get back to the rest of his day.
* * *
Arrogant bastard.
Gabi got up from her desk and dashed around in front of Kingsley before he could get to the door. She pressed her back against it and gave him a hard look.
She knew it was important to establish right this moment that he wasn’t in charge. No matter how much it might seem otherwise.
“We’re not finished yet.”
“I can’t imagine what else we have to discuss,” he said.
He didn’t stop as she’d thought he would. Instead he came right up until barely an inch of space separated them and put his hands on the door on either side of her head.
He surrounded her. She could see the flecks of green in his icy-blue eyes and the scar on his left eyebrow that she’d noticed the first time he’d kissed her. Her lips felt dry. Her breath got shallower and she wanted to smack herself in the forehead. Don’t react to him.
This was Kingsley Buchanan—lover and leaver. Not a man she was interested in.
But her body said otherwise.
Every nerve inside her reacted to him as if she didn’t know he was bad news. As if she hadn’t just agreed to live in his house... It was a deal with the devil.
Sure, she’d been battling with the county commissioners for the last eighteen months trying to get that park and playground built. And Kingsley’s offer was too good to pass up. But he didn’t own her. She had to stay in control.
Except his cologne smelled so good.
“We have a lot to discuss,” she said. Her voice sounded thready and breathy to her own ears.
Ugh.
“Like what?”
“I’m not living in your house.”
“Nonnegotiable.”
She
