Chapter 14 – Bellamy #2
“Not sure,” I tell him as I push the door open a bit wider without entering. “I wanted to speak with you, but if you’re going to be a di—er, grump, it can wait.”
“You were about to call me a dick, weren’t you?”
You called me a pain in the ass, I want to throw back at him, but I don’t want to get Sabrina in trouble. That’s not what I want to talk to him about. At least not directly. “You’re not honestly looking for me to answer that, are you?”
I swear he smirks, but he turns back to the fire so quickly I’m not sure if I’m imagining things.
“Come in, Bellamy. Sit down and tell me whatever the hell it is you feel you have to tell me at this particular moment in my day.”
Okay, still a grump. But I’m here now, so I might as well press my luck.
Entering the study, I debate whether I should sit or if I should stand for this little speech. I decide on the sofa that’s facing him. He eyes me, doing a quick head-to-toe sweep of me before frowning and staring down at his glass. “Do you want one?”
I don’t ask if I’m allowed. I’m technically off the clock, and he offered. “What is it?”
He smiles, and this one I don’t miss. “Kentucky bourbon.”
I laugh. “That is not what I thought you were going to say.”
“American bourbon has more of a bite to it, and tonight that’s exactly what I wanted.”
“I’d love one. Thank you.” I go to get up, but he beats me to it, setting his glass down and going over to the bar to pour me two fingers.
He doesn’t offer ice and I don’t ask. I’m too shocked he’s doing this for me when I would have done it myself. In the months I’ve been here, I’ve only seen either Margarite or Emily bring him his drink, so I certainly didn’t expect this from him.
“Thank you,” I say when he hands the glass to me.
He reclaims his chair, and that’s that. No cheers or how are the kids or what do you want, even.
I take a large sip of my liquid courage, only to think better of it and polish off the glass.
It burns like a bastard as it goes down my throat, and I wince and cough. “May I have another?”
His eyebrows shoot up, but he pans his hand toward the bar, and I get up, sucking in a few breaths on my way to make myself another drink.
I’m stalling. I know this. But this man makes me nervous and I still feel very new to this job and yet I’m about to ask him to go against everything he’s spent the last three years doing.
Him. As in a king.
I already know my opinion is neither asked for nor desired.
I’m not even a big drinker, so this could very well backfire on me.
All of this could. He has a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to his children and their safety and with this request, I could be pushing him over the edge and then I’ll be out on my ass with nothing.
Panic slips through me, but in my gut, I know the children need this.
“Worried about something?” he deadpans, and I choke on my sip.
I flip back around to face him, wiping the spittle of bourbon from my lips. “Yes. I am.”
I’m speaking to him in English. No way I can do this in French. Too many things to think about all at once.
“Are you leaving us?”
I shake my head. “No.” I’d swear there is relief in his expression, and that emboldens me. That, and the shots of bourbon. “Your Majesty—”
“Sebastian,” he cuts in sharply. “I prefer it when you call me Sebastian.”
“All right, Seb.” I smirk and he grunts but doesn’t correct me.
I retake my seat, rolling the crystal between my hands.
“First, I want to say that I adore your children. They’re so much fun.
I wasn’t sure how I would take to suddenly becoming a nanny, but they make it easy.
They’re sweet and thoughtful and loving and adventurous and funny and so smart.
You’ve done a fantastic job with them. So, while I do realize I have only spent a short time with your family, please understand, this all comes from a place of love. ”
“Love?” he questions, testing the word as if it’s completely foreign to him.
“Yes. Love.”
“That quickly.”
“Don’t be a jerk just to be a jerk. You know this is difficult for me, and I have something important to say. I love your children, yes. You know I do.”
A harrumph. “Fine. Continue.”
“Your children are incredible, and I love being with them. I connect with them. I feel their pain and understand it as my own since I lived through their kind of loss myself. I want nothing more than to help them through it and see them come out stronger on the other side.”
His eyes penetrate my barrier for a few long, tense moments, and I let him root around, my expression open and honest. Have none of the other nannies taken to the children? I know Althea and the kids mentioned something to that effect my first night here, but I find that impossible to believe.
Or maybe they just had all the wrong people before.
I won’t lie and say it’s easy all the time, because it’s not, but you can’t help but crave more of them.
“Forget all the bullshit buildup and just tell me already?” he growls.
“Okay.” Here goes nothing.