Page 3 of The Beast's Heart

“Run some more.” I stand. “Get on the phone to New York. Find out who he is, what his qualifications are and if I can trust him around the kids.”

Geoff moves to block me as I head to the door. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to meet our guest.”

3

JONATHAN

The door opens to reveal the largest man I’ve ever seen. He’s definitely over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and thick, corded muscles that are stretching his blue-green henley to its limits. His long, rust-colored hair is pulled back in a braid and he sports a close-cropped beard.

Bloody hell.

This is De Villeneuve. The Beast, himself. Even if I hadn’t looked him up online, I’d know it by his sheer size. His sheerpresence. I forget to breathe. Was he the one on the intercom? Surely not.

“You must be our teacher,” he says. Same deep, deep voice. Like far off thunder. It was him. It’s him. He’s here. I’m dead. “John Belle, was it?”

I try to find my voice. Zane was right. Forget Scottish prison, this man could snap me in half.

“Well?”

“Oh, I, um, yes.” I offer him my hand robotically. “Jonathan.”

He says, “Hmm,” but it sounds like a growl. “All right,Jonathan.”

His giant hand closes around mine. His grip is firm but his skin is surprisingly soft. Heat flashes through me.

“Let’s start with a tour,” he says after a beat passes with neither of us speaking.

He drops my hand and sets off without waiting for a response. I fall into step with him, but I feel like I’m trotting to keep up with his large stride.

“The manor sleeps sixteen, but obviously not at the moment. There are five staff. Three stay in the house with me and the children. The other two are in the groundskeeper’s cottage at the edge of the property.”

Five.My stomach swoops. So much for disappearing into an army of hundreds.

He leads me across the landing. We enter a dim passage, papered in a twisting branch and curling leaf design. It’s immediately familiar.William Morris. Genuine?I don’t comment.

“Ground floor is what would be the guest level, if we had guests,” De Villeneuve says. “This is the family floor and upstairs you’ll find staff quarters and the foundation offices. A rough guide. You’ll spend most of your time in this wing.”

He pauses at a door just long enough to say, “Classroom.” I don’t have a chance to look in before he’s off again. “North east bathroom.” The passage hooks right past the door he just indicated. “Playroom to the left, to the right, the kids’ bedrooms. We put them eldest to youngest with you on the end.”

“I’m staying with the family?” The question slips out and I immediately wish it hadn’t because De Villeneuve stops and gives me an appraising look. That is the sort of information Dad would know.Keep it together, for God's sake.

“The nanny doesn’t sleep in the house,” De Villeneuve says. “It was mentioned in your contact. You’ll need to see to their needs overnight. I trust that’s in order?”

I swallow hard and hope he doesn’t notice. I wish I was better at lying. “Ah, yes, I remember.”

He hums, more vibration than sound. I have to assume it signifies agreement because he continues onwards. “Enrique is four and nonverbal. I understand he has some problems with night terrors, so he’ll be next door to you.”

The interviews I read about this project mentioned there would be four children, but didn’t disclose any personal details. I didn’t realize how young they’d be. It feels like I’m carrying a steel ball in my chest. Tiny children, relying on me far more than I expected.

The passage hooks around again. We’ve walked in a horse shoe and now we’re faced with a door at the end. “That will be your room.”

“Easy to find. Just walk until I can’t walk anymore.”

“Angus will have brought up your luggage if you’d like to get settled? Dinner is at seven. If you can find your way back to the control room, my assistant, Meredith, will take you from there.”

“The control room?”

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