Page 7 of Redeem Me

‘See you.’ Though truthfully, I won’t see her. Next timeDermot suggests a drink, I’ll make certain it’s just the two of us. No way am I putting myself within five miles of Ivy Winters ever again.

She’s trouble.

And not because she’s Dermot’s little sister, but because she’s the most interesting and attractive woman I’ve met since Isabella. A sliver of guilt snakes into my stomach even thinking that way.

Isabella.

What would she make of tonight’s events?

You’ll never find out, that inner voice reminds me. Isabella is gone. And so is the man she married.

All that’s left is this hateful beast.

I stride across the bar, searching for my driver, Damon, as I weave through a throng of bodies. My head twists, something in my chest compelling me to glance over my shoulder as I reach the exit.

Blue eyes blaze back at me from across the room. Something sharp stokes my sternum.

I tear my eyes away and march out into the night.

Chapter Four

IVY

‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’ Dermot loads my suitcase into the boot of the private hire car. ‘Stay with me for as long as you like. You don’t have to take this job. Why don’t you take the summer to make a five-year plan? You could start college in September. Think about it’

‘You sound like our parents. Did they put you up to this?’ I rock back on my heels and fold my arms across my chest.

The sun beats down on my face and I can literally feel more freckles sprouting on my nose and across my cheekbones. I was told throughout my entire childhood they would fade as I got older, but every summer they come back with a bang. In the States, I had to carry my ID everywhere or risk being refused entry to bars and nightclubs. Here, I just have to say I’m Ivy Winters and there isn’t an establishment in the country that would refuse me. My father is a famous judge, my mother one of the country’s top paediatricians, and my brother has made millions on some sort of state-of-the-art IT software.

And me? Well, I’m a nanny.

My family wants more for me. A high-flying career. A bighouse and an even bigger bank balance. And not because they want something to brag about at the golf club, but because they love me–in their own way. But that doesn’t stop the irritation flaring in my chest.

The truth is, I like being a nanny. I’m brilliant at it. Kids are so much simpler than adults. If they think something they say it. Want something, then they ask. Spending time with them doesn’t feel like work, it feels like fun. And the longer I do it, the less I want to do anything else. Even if admitting it to my overachieving family makes me a pariah.

‘I love my job. I love kids.’ I squint up at Dermot, shielding my face from the sun with my hand.

‘So, why not follow Mother’s footsteps and become a paediatrician?’ He shuffles from foot to foot, indicating to the driver that we’ll be another minute.

‘Because I lovekids.Not sick kids. I don’t want to be a hero. I want to be the fun one who bakes cookies and bounces on the trampoline.’

‘You could be so much more.’ Dermot sighs.

‘Am I not enough as I am?’ It was supposed to be a joke, but the words come out sounding more serious than I intended.

Does not having a college degree, or a five-year plan make me less of a person?

Dermot pulls me against his chest and ruffles my hair. ‘Course you’re enough. We just want you to be fulfilled. Happy. Being a nanny was supposed to be a stopgap. Do you seriously see yourself in the same job at fifty?’

Truthfully, I want my own kids one day, but Dermot doesn’t need to hear that right now. The thought of someone impregnating his baby sister is not one he’s comfortable with. Or having sex with me at all. Which is why it’s a damn good job he didn’t walk into the bar five minutes earlier the other night.

The entire decadent scenario lasted about six minutes, but I’ve replayed it in my head six million times since.

It was wrong on so many levels, but it was hot AF.

His poor wife.

I tried my best to milk Dermot for information after Caelon left the other night, but he refused to tell me anything other than that his friend’s had a rough couple of years. Ha, as if his tortured face and entire demeanour didn’t already give that away.

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