7. Matteo
Matteo
Summer Reynolds was inside my home, and being near her made my skin feel like it was two sizes too small. All I could think about was how in the world I was going to make her stay.
There had been a fleeting thought of cuffing her to my bed, but I wanted her there willingly, not by force.
Then Bianca’s little biting act broke the tension swirling between us, but with it came inspiration.
She took instantly to Summer when she’d seen fit to terrorize every other woman she had come in contact with for the past eight months.
And by some miracle, my daughter was sitting on the couch inside my office, not only allowing the rat’s nest of her hair to be brushed but to have it tugged on until twin braids curved down the sides of her head to hang over her shoulders.
Brown eyes, filled with delight, met mine from across the room. “Papa! I look pretty!”
The chuckle that worked its way up my chest sounded foreign to my ears. When was the last time I allowed myself to laugh, to smile?
“ Bellissima, principessa .”
Bianca turned to Summer, translating my praise that had been uttered in Italian. “He said I’m gorgeous.” Her cheeks pinkened. “And he called me his princess.”
The blonde woman, who was quickly becoming my obsession, fiddled with the end of one of my daughter’s braids, avoiding eye contact with me.
“Bianca, do you like Miss Summer?”
That had those bright blue gems snapping up, and a thrill of victory shot through me.
“Yes, Papa! I love her!” Bianca cried, clapping in her excitement.
My eyebrows rose. That was quite a declaration from the girl who had wanted nothing to do with any woman who wasn’t her mother these past eight months.
“How would you feel about her being your new nanny?”
A piercing squeal split the air, causing me to wince and Serafina’s lower lip to wobble before she let out a displeased wail. Bouncing the baby on my hip in an effort to soothe her, I caught the murderous glare Summer aimed in my direction from the corner of my eye.
Bianca grabbed Summer’s hands, begging, “Please, please, please! We can play all day!”
I gave myself a mental pat on the back. This couldn’t be any more perfect.
Pouring a little more fuel on the fire, I teased, “How can you say no to that little face?”
Summer gave my daughter a tight smile. “Bianca, I need to talk to your daddy for a minute in private.”
What did it say about me that my cock began to thicken at hearing her call me daddy?
That you’re a sick fuck, that’s what.
My little girl pushed her lower lip out in a pout and stomped her foot. “I wanna stay with you.”
Instead of arguing, Summer redirected the conversation. “I had so much fun braiding your hair today.”
That perked Bianca up. “You can do it again tomorrow!”
Sighing, Summer’s eyes lifted to meet mine. “We’ll see.”
Stepping in, I spoke to my daughter. “ Principessa , why don’t you run to the kitchen and see if Teresa has any cookies left from the batch she made yesterday?”
A sheepish grin curved on her face. “I ate them all.”
“How about ice cream, then?”
Her eyes grew large. “Before dinner?”
If spoiling her dinner was the only way to get her out of the room so I could negotiate with Summer, then so be it.
“Sure.” I jerked my head toward the open office door. “Now, scoot.”
Bianca took off running, and the minute she was gone, Summer stood, seething, “I don’t appreciate being put on the spot like that.”
She was adorable when she was all riled up, and my lips pulled into a smirk.
“Is this some kind of game to you?”
Her anger was palpable, but I couldn’t stop staring at how her ragged breathing pushed her breasts up.
“Eyes up here.” Fingers snapped dangerously close to my face, and reflex had me wrapping my free hand around her wrist in an iron grip.
A shocked rush of air spilled from her lips, the fight seeping out of her as her gaze zeroed in on where I held her. Heat curled through my insides, the spot where I touched her skin almost scorching my palm.
Could she feel it too?
Throat working on a swallow, she rasped, “I, uh—” With a firm shake of her head, she continued, “I’m not a nanny.”
“Maybe not,” I agreed. “But Bianca likes you, which is nothing short of a miracle these days. And since you’re adamant about not accepting my repayment of your student loans, I thought we could use this arrangement to come to a compromise.”
“Compromise,” Summer repeated, confusion written across her face.
“Since you don’t have the cash to refund me outright, you can work for me—as the girls’ nanny—until you’ve earned enough to call it even. The nanny position pays $150,000 per year.”
Her mouth dropped open at hearing that salary figure.
“That would mean over a year . . .”
I nodded. “Sixteen months, to be exact.”
She was so close to agreeing that I could almost taste it, which made it all the more surprising when she spun around to grab her purse. “While the offer is attractive, working off my debt leaves me without a way to pay for rent or food.”
“Did I forget to mention the part where it’s a live-in position? Meals and lodging are included.”
Summer’s eyes bulged. “Live-in? As in, I would live”—she gestured around the room—“ here ?”
Chuckling, I nodded. “Not in my office, but you’d have your own living quarters upstairs. And I would be more than willing to negotiate a monthly stipend, so you have spending money.”
The way her gaze shifted, I could tell she was grasping at straws, trying to come up with any other excuse to say no. But I was a master at chess, and though she might not realize it yet, I’d already declared checkmate.
“Shouldn’t you run this by the girls’ mother first?”
Those words sucked the air out of my lungs like a vacuum, and I stiffened, causing Serafina to let out a whimper.
Voice hoarse, I confessed, “Their mother passed away.”
“Oh.” Understanding dawned, and her blue eyes filled with that familiar look of pity. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Ducking my head in gratitude, I seized the opportunity to play on her sympathy. “The girls need a stable female presence in their lives. Bianca’s burned through almost a dozen nannies in the past eight months.”
I saw the exact moment that timeline sank in, and she pieced together that Allegra’s death had coincided with Serafina’s birth.
Though she was probably imagining some kind of medical complication as the cause instead of the truth—that my late wife’s connection to my family was what got her killed—and I wasn’t about to scare her away by correcting her assumption.
It was far beneath a don to beg, but I found myself doing it anyway. That’s how badly I—and apparently my daughters—needed her.
Playing on the pity in her eyes, I let emotion leak into my voice. “Please, Summer. Say yes. For Bianca.” I bounced the baby in my arms. “For Serafina.”
My soft appeal seemingly breached her defenses, and her shoulders sagged on a sigh. “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
“So, uh, where do we go from here?”
Pulling my cell from my pocket, I fired off a quick text to Enzo before returning my attention to the woman standing opposite me. “I’ll have someone drive you home so you can pack, and then they’ll return to retrieve you in the morning.”
Her plush lips parted. “You want me to start tomorrow?”
“I’m the CEO of a large real estate enterprise. Business never stops, and neither do I. That means long hours spent in my office downtown, and as much as I love my daughters, I’m not able to get much work done with them underfoot. The sooner you start, the better. For everyone.”
Under her breath, she mumbled, “Hot Daddy CEO. Almost forgot.”
My ears perked up immediately. “What was that?”
Wide eyes snapped up to meet mine. “Nothing,” she said in a rush, pink tinting her cheeks.
Learning that the attraction I felt wasn’t one-sided gave me confidence that convincing her to stay would be even easier than I thought.
“Knock, knock!” Enzo’s voice was accompanied by the sharp rap of his knuckles on the doorframe.
Turning to him, I said, “Please escort Miss Reynolds home, and coordinate what time is best to retrieve her and her belongings in the morning.”
Dark eyebrows rose high on my cousin’s forehead. “New roommate?”
“New nanny,” I corrected.
The jackass crossed himself. “I’ll make sure to light a candle for you, Miss Reynolds.”
“It’s Summer,” she prompted.
Enzo flashed her a dazzling smile, stepping forward with his hand extended. “Enzo Bellini, at your service, Summer.”
Summer slipped her palm against his, and a warning growl worked its way through my chest. He might be my blood, but I didn’t like anyone touching what was mine.
When he turned his head in my direction, the shit-eating grin on his face said it all. I’d given myself away with that show of possessiveness.
“Down, boy. I was only being polite.”
I let out an unimpressed grunt.
Summer looked between the two of us. “Brothers?”
“Cousins,” Enzo supplied.
“Strong gene pool,” she remarked.
She wasn’t wrong there. Enzo and I bore a closer resemblance than I shared with my brother. But Enzo was the darker, more dangerous version, with his buzzed black hair, scruff lining his jaw, and tattoos marking most of his visible skin.
“Our fathers were identical twins,” I explained.
“Ah.” Her chin lifted. “That makes more sense.”
Enzo offered Summer his elbow. “Your chariot awaits, milady.”
Fucker would be lucky if I didn’t snap his neck when he returned.
Peeking over her shoulder, Summer timidly said, “Bye.”
“Until tomorrow,” I replied.
Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.
Hours later, Enzo returned to find me reclined on the couch inside my office, a sleeping Serafina sprawled across my chest.
Latching the door behind him, he leaned against it with a knowing smirk. “Wanna talk about how the lifeguard became the nanny?”
I narrowed my eyes at my brother’s second, who, by default, had become mine when I was left in charge. “What I want to talk about is what you were able to dig up on Dante.”