Page 60 of Nanny and the Beast

I thought Klaus had striking features, but his sister has an almost otherworldly beauty. She’s ethereal with raven hair, porcelain skin, and striking blue-gray eyes.

She also looks familiar. It dawns on me that Rosalie is the spitting image of her.

It makes more sense now why I got the impression that Klaus was avoiding the kids. They look so much like the sister he lost. Maybe it’s hard for him to look at them without thinking of her.

I startle when I hear something behind me. It sounded like it came from inside the room. Fear keeps me frozen to the spot.

I hear the scream again.

Only this time, it’s not muffled.

I glance at the open window. What I heard was only the sound of the wind howling outside. It rises to a shrill scream before dipping into a low, mournful wail, as if the sky itself is crying out.

I should close the windows and leave this room before someone finds me in here.

Just as I move toward the window, my hip bumps against the edge of the dressing table.

A drawer slides open, revealing a leather-bound book inside. It’s wrapped shut with a leather cord. A chill passes down my spine as I stare at it.

I feel an inexplicable pull toward the book. As though it’s calling to me.

The air is heavy with anticipation, and it doesn’t feel like it’s my own.

I’m being watched.

I shake that intrusive thought away before I give myself a heart attack.

I stare at the book.I really shouldn’t. It’s crossing every boundary. It’s completely unprofessional.

But so were the words he whispered in my ear when we were alone. So was the way he wrapped his hand around my neck.

I reach for the book.

It’s not like I have any bad intentions. I’m not going to sell his family secrets to the media. I’m just curious about Mr. Sinclair.

I hold the book up in front of me.

Moonlight falls on the surface. The pages look worn like they’ve been touched often. I know that this isn’t just any book. It’s someone’s diary.

Just as I tug at the leather cord, I hear a creaking noise on the other side of the door.

I hide the book inside my cardigan seconds before the door slams open.

Light tumbles into the room, nearly blinding me. A dark shadow looms in the doorway.

“Explain yourself,” he growls.

My mouth dries up instantly. I have no words to defend myself with.

“I’ll only ask you this once,” he says. “What the hell are you doing inside this room, Emma?”

“I was just...”

He steps inside, and I feel that tug in my belly again. The intensity of my desire nearly sweeps me off my feet.

“Just what?” he asks. “Looking for something you can pawn off for extra cash?”

“What?” The meaning of his words sinks in. “I would never.”

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