Mistress to a Millionaire

‘Then working with one would be easy,’ he countered swiftly. ‘And how do you know you wouldn’t like it until you have tried? We could make the position temporary—say, a trial period of three months at first, to make sure both parties feel it is successful. I am prepared to pay you a retainer for the next few weeks while you recover from your injuries and settle your affairs in England—’ he mentioned a sum that made Daisy’s mouth fall open for a second ‘—and then, once you are fit again, you could fly out to Italy and have the latter half of Angelica’s notice with her and my son. It would work very well all round.’

She lifted her gaze now and the piercing black eyes were waiting for her, their power immediately mesmerising.

‘My son has a private tutor at home so you would not be required to undertake his schooling beyond encouraging him at his lessons of course; your contribution would be in the capacity of a mother figure providing discipline, control and restraint.’

Discipline, control and restraint? Daisy thought bemusedly. It sounded to her as if he was looking more for an army corporal than a nanny. This just had to be a total non-starter.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Eastwood,’ she began politely, wondering if it was she who was crazy or he, ‘but I’m sure when you’ve had time to consider this properly you will see that it just wouldn’t work. Of course I am very grateful for all your kindness—’

‘Prove it.’ It was straight for the jugular and totally unexpected. ‘And I would just make the point that you would have your own suite and the door has a bolt,’ he added pointedly, ‘and my housekeeper and her husband live on the premises.’

She stared at him as a flood of scarlet stained her skin. She hadn’t thought he was suggesting anything improper! Not for a second! How dared he assume that? Her voice was very tight when she said, ‘I didn’t think for a moment that this was anything other than a job offer, Mr Eastwood.’

‘No?’ It was lazy and slightly amused.

‘No!’ she snapped back hotly.

‘This is good.’

No, this was bad. Very bad! In fact this was the last thing in the world that she needed after the horrendous agony of the last year or so, Daisy thought desperately. She had come to London to bury herself in the uncaring pace of the big city, where no one cared very much about anyone else. She could lick her wounds in comfort here, without well-meaning friends dropping by to ‘cheer her up’.

If she had got the job she was going for on the morning of the accident it would have been perfect. A straightforward nine-to-five existence, then home to her tiny bedsit where she could please herself. If she hadn’t wanted to see another soul out of work hours she wouldn’t have had to. But this… This was impossible. She didn’t want to be a mother figure to anyone—in fact she didn’t want to get close to anyone ever again.

‘Look, I really don’t want this kind of job.’ She tried again.

‘Think about it.’ It was an order but spoken in a silky tone that made it difficult to fire back as she would have liked to. ‘This way all your debt is wiped out, you get the chance to see new horizons whilst earning an excellent salary and it won’t look bad on your CV either.’

‘But I don’t understand. Why me?’ she asked helplessly, her huge honey-brown eyes with their thick brown lashes open wide and her silver-blonde hair falling about her shoulders in gleaming waves.

Slade Eastwood looked at the slender young woman in the bed. If he answered that truthfully he had about as much chance of persuading her to take the job as making snowballs in hell, he thought ruefully, and how could he explain what he didn’t understand himself anyway? He just knew he couldn’t let her walk out of his life, not yet. That was all.

‘Why you?’ He smiled coolly, his thoughts hidden. ‘Why not? You were in the right place at the right time, perhaps?’

‘Hardly.’ Daisy thought of her sore arms and legs and her ribs throbbed their protest at his statement.

‘Like I said, think about it.’ He rose, and she felt the movement in every fibre of her being. She didn’t like the effect this man had on her; he was hypnotising.

‘My son is very important to me, Daisy.’ He was halfway to the door when he turned to face her again, and now the brilliant eyes were very black and very steady. ‘I want the best for him, as does every father for his son, and I won’t let anything or anyone stand in the way of that.’

Daisy just looked at him—she couldn’t think of a thing to say and she wasn’t at all sure exactly what he was getting at.

‘I want Francesco to grow up with certain standards, principles, and he needs to imbibe those at an early age. At the moment he is vulnerable, he is getting a great deal of sentimental, indulgent love which is without solid foundation and this will not do. I cannot be with him every minute of every day and due to the influences I have mentioned when I am with him there is inevitable confrontation. This must stop.’

Daisy nod

ded but still didn’t speak. If he thought this was persuading her to take the position as nanny he couldn’t be more wrong, she thought weakly. He was positively terrifying, and all her sympathy was with his son and his mother-in-law!

‘I will return tomorrow evening when you have had time to give the proposal further thought, and in the meantime I will arrange to have a contract delivered for your perusal, stating the terms of employment and your salary and so on should you decide to accept the post.’

This was ridiculous. She had to tell him right now that there was no way she would consider working for him. ‘Mr Eastwood, I really don’t think there is any likelihood of my leaving England and working in Italy,’ Daisy said as firmly as she could considering the dark gaze was burning her face.

‘No? I disagree.’ His tone had altered and it brought her chin up in unconscious preparation for battle. ‘By your own decision, when you leave this establishment you will be some thousands of pounds in my debt,’ he said coolly. ‘It will clearly take you months, maybe much longer, to pay that back, even supposing you are fortunate enough to step into employment immediately you are well. Unless you are prepared to reconsider and allow me to cancel the debt?’ he added softly.

‘There is no question of that,’ she bit back quickly.

He shrugged slowly. ‘Then my offer seems a very sensible solution,’ he suggested sardonically. ‘Added to that, you are free from all ties now, and Italy is even better than London for forgetting the past and forging a new life.’

‘What?’ She stared at him, too shocked to say any more.