Page 67 of Redeem Me

Scarlett’s silver eyes continuously bounce between Caelon and me, and the right side of her lip curves upward. ‘Harper and Halle are with their nanny. Owen and Orla aren’t the only two who are exhausted.’

‘Liz has supper ready. Go and get something to eat before bed.’ Caelon kisses the kids’ foreheads and ushers them into the kitchen. When they’ve disappeared along the hallway, he turns his attention back to his brother and future sister-in-law. ‘Drink?’

‘Yes, please.’ Scarlett rubs her manicured hands together.

Caelon motions us into the drawing room and pours James a whiskey from the Hollywood custom-made drinks cabinet against the wood-panelled wall, then opens a side panel which doubles up as a fridge. Pausing, he examines an extensive and expensive collection of bottles and selects an extravagant champagne. It’s clearly for Scarlett’s benefit, but I’m not prepared to let my new friend drink something that fancy alone.

‘Are we celebrating?’ I lean closer to Caelon. My arm brushes against his, sending goosebumps skittering over my skin.

‘Actually, we are,’ Scarlett says. ‘James and I have decided to get married.’ She raises her left hand to show off a glittering platinum solitaire.

‘The huge ring sort of gave that away.’ Caelon pops the champagne cork and pours into two long-stemmed flutes, handing one to Scarlett and one to me. ‘But congratulations again,’ he says, reaching for his whiskey.

‘No, we’re actually doing it.’ James drops an arm over Scarlett’s shoulder. ‘We’ve set a date.’

‘That’s fantastic,’ I gush, instinctively reaching for Scarlett’s hand and squeezing it. Her cheeks flush, her smile so bright, it’s practically neon.

Caelon’s lips purse into a grim line as his gaze flits towards the fireplace. A picture of him and Isabella on their wedding day stares back at him. They look stunning in their wedding finery, but the most attractive thing about them is their smiles.

An intricate web of emotions clogs my throat.

I knew what I was letting myself in for when I surrendered my body to Caelon. He made it clear he’s not interested in anything serious, but it already feels as though I’m losing part of my heart.

Caelon drags his eyes back to his brother. ‘Oh? When?’

‘The second of November.’ The words practically burst out of Scarlett’s mouth.

‘All Souls Day,’ Caelon says darkly.

‘I didn’t have you pegged as the religious sort,’ I tease, as my eyes rove over his torso.

‘I’m not.’ His pupils morph into his irises, his jaw setting in a hard line.

The conversation is taking a dark turn, and I don’t like it one bit.

‘Cheers!’ I raise my glass, conscious that in a heartbeat, Caelon’s flipped from my flirtatious, fucktacious boss back to tall, dark and tortured.

‘Where are you having it?’ I ask the blushing bride.

‘Cheval Blanc, St-Barth. You should see it – white sandycoves, stunning scenery, plush little villas that back onto the beach. We planned to travel the world before we had kids, but life is what happens while you’re busy having fun, right?’ She elbows James in the ribs. ‘So, we decided on a destination wedding with a month-long honeymoon.’

‘What about the kids?’ A month is a long time to be away from them. If I had kids, I’d hate to be away for more than a weekend.

‘We’ll bring the nannies.’ Scarlett beams. ‘You’ll come too, right?’

Is she inviting me as a guest, or as the hired help?

I glance at Caelon. ‘Of course Ivy will be there. She’s our nanny.’

My cheeks sizzle.

‘Technically, I might have finished by then,’ I remind him. He was the one that said my position was only for the summer.

His eyes narrow, flit to the photo on the mantle again, then refocus on me. ‘Clearly, we need to discuss that.’

‘Clearly, now is not the time.’ I feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on me. ‘I’m going to check on the kids. It’s my job, after all,’ I say, flouncing out of the room with my champagne, embarrassed and humiliated. At least it might numb the stinging burn in my chest.

‘Ivy…’ Caelon calls, but I ignore him. I don’t know how to be his nanny and his… what? Fuck buddy? We’ve had one official date and a fuck-load of sex. That doesn’t make me his girlfriend, no matter how increasingly blurred the lines have become.

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