Chapter 8: Kingpin’s Nanny: Chapter 8

He has a photo of me beside his bed. I remember the moment captured so vividly, even though I didn’t realise he’d taken a picture. I had just emerged from the sea, and was watching Ivy on her bodyboard, my back to Lucas on the beach. My hair was stuck to my head and my shoulders were pink from too much swimming in the sun.

About a month after I’d started working for him, we went to the South of France. The summer had extended into Autumn, and I don’t know what made Lucas decide to go away, but Ivy asked longingly one evening, and told him that I’d never been to France. And he sprung it on us a few days later. A weekend on a yacht exploring secret coves and Lucas rolling his eyes when I wouldn’t drink more than a sip of wine. Not with so much water around, and the smooth teak decks on the boat.

I was attracted to him before, my tummy fluttering inappropriately on our first meeting. But there had been just the three of us on that beach, and I fell even more for my severe boss seeing him make sandcastles with Ivy. We’d spent hours at the beach, and I peeked at him from under my lashes, unable to believe a man like that was my boss.

I was full of a tumult of new feelings. I’d never wanted anyone before, but Mr Knight I’d responded to the second I saw him. The sight of his chest—wide, muscled, his pecs covered with a fine layer of dark hair and his whole torso a piece of art in black and gold—had just added more layers to my attraction. I wanted him.

That made the fact he was cold to me all the worse. I attempted to flirt with him. Awkwardly, of course. I brushed a non-existent bit of fluff from his shirt—as if fluff would dare to settle on Mr Knight—and said that being by the sea suited him. I even asked him to sit with me after Ivy had gone to sleep, and we talked late into the night.

I was convinced there was something between us, but when we returned to London it was back to the same thing: twenty minutes at bedtime, and cool civility.

And he has a photograph of me next to his bed. I don’t understand.

I take the stairs slowly even though I want to rush. I can’t quite bring myself to believe any of this.

He knew all the time while I was putting on a show. Lucas watched me touch myself, and said those deliciously filthy things to me. He stroked his cock and told me I made him hard.

He said he loved watching me.

“Bella.”

I look up to find him on the stairs, coming to get me. He stops when he sees my face.

He’s reclothed himself, though his forearms are still exposed, his tan skin in contrast to the white shirt. I’m an idiot. How did I not recognise him, just from his strong hands?

Because I was afraid. I was terrified it wasn’t him. I couldn’t raise my hopes that someone really wanted me, because there have been so many times in my life that no one did. No one cared.

“Bella.” He runs down the remaining steps and catches me in his arms, pushing me against the wall, pressing his body right against mine and looks down at me. A lock of black, curly hair shot through with silver falls over his forehead.

He’s hot and solid, his dark hair-covered forearms braced on either side of my head, the muscles flexing. I feel so safe.

We look at each other, both breathing fast. I’m suddenly very aware of my thin T-shirt and my nipples brushing against his chest.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” I confess in a whisper.

“I have too, little elf.” He pauses and when he speaks again, his voice is tormented. “But there are some things you need to know.”

“What?”

“I stayed away for your own good, Bella. I shouldn’t⁠—”

“You should!” He left me alone deliberately? “I want⁠—”

“Shhh.” He kisses me hard, and I don’t think he realises it’s my first kiss. Because it’s short and his lips are soft and firm and passionate. But it does achieve his aim spectacularly, as I can’t speak afterwards.

“You’re so young. And you’re my employee, and innocent.” The sadness in his tone crushes the hope in my chest. “I’m the head of King’s Cross. I’d tear you apart.”

“I like that you’re older,” I manage to say around the rising fear that he won’t let this happen. Did he not mean what he said, and I’ve misread everything? “I think it’s kinda hot that you’re my boss.”

“You don’t understand,” he says, but he doesn’t move, as though the tug of being close is as strong for him as it is for me.

“Then help me understand.” Frustration seeps in. He says I’m young, but I’m not a child.

Lucas drags in a long breath, then sighs, his brows low. Then he looks right into my eyes, his gleaming dark and metallic.

“I’m so in love with you, it’s an obsession. It’s more than you might want to cope with. I’m going to need to know exactly where you are, all the time. I’ll want you by my side. You’re beautiful outside, but my soul calls out to be entwined with yours. If I started, I don’t know if I’d let you go. I’d need to be inside you, constantly. I want to have you close, every day, and fit us together in every possible way that feels good. And when our bodies are old, and can’t do that anymore, when we have the satisfaction of seeing our children grow up, and have babies of their own, and the sun sets on our lives together. I’d welcome that too, as a way for my soul to be even nearer yours.”

He’s taking my breath away. This really is a bit intense, but I don’t care. I feel the same way.

“How I feel about you isn’t rational. I’m crazy about you, Bella.” He reaches down, opening a gap for me to escape the cage of his arms.

I don’t.

Slowly, he encircles my throat with his hand. “I’m dangerous, Bella. I’m the kingpin of King’s Cross, and you should leave while you can.”

Arching up, I push myself into him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I can’t trust myself with you,” he mutters, apparently to himself, and he squeezes the smallest amount, just so his fingers press in and his thumb is on my windpipe.

I rest my hand over his. He must be able to feel the pulse in my neck, and I can feel his—a solid thump-thump-thump—over his knuckles. “I trust you.”

He shakes his head slowly. “I’m a bad man, and destined to be worse.”

“I don’t believe it.” Not this man who kept his distance out of love, and cares for his niece in that gruff, tender way.

He sighs and his grip loosens, drifting down to the stretched opening of my T-shirt. He caresses my shoulder, and I reach for his side, trying to urge him closer.

“My sister was married to the previous King’s Cross kingpin—Bradford—and he killed her.”

“And you killed him in revenge, and took over his territory.” I nod. This is not news. Even I know to do a bit of background on a mafia boss I’m working for.

He swallows. “What’s not known by most people, is why he killed her.”

The air in the stairwell is cool, and the glass above us, open to the stars, suddenly feels exposing.

“Bradford was obsessed.” Lucas looks down, not meeting my gaze. “He wasn’t willing to share Natalia with anyone. He was older than her—we were about the same age, and we were friends of a sort when I first started working for him—and he didn’t want her to have children. He couldn’t bear the idea of not having her all to himself.”

My eyes widen. I’ve heard the stories that the previous King’s Cross kingpin was unhinged, but I’m not sure why Lucas is telling me this.

“And now history is repeating, Bella. A King’s Cross kingpin is in obsessive love with a much younger, vulnerable, sweet girl. And you don’t even have a brother to look after you.”

It clicks.

“You think you’ll harm me?” He grips my shoulder tight, right on the muscle and bone that can withstand it, hardly painful at all. Not like my neck, that couldn’t take it. He doesn’t realise how he cares and protects me. It’s instinct.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” he says. “I haven’t wanted anyone, or anything. I didn’t care about the power and money of this job, or anyone, but now I can’t breathe without you. I can’t risk that turning into the sort of love that Bradford had for Natalia. He loved her, but he hurt her. And in the end…” He trails off sadly.

“He didn’t love her, Lucas.”

He’s silent, then shakes his head.

“What if I’m like him?” he whispers, agonised.

“You’re not.”

“I’m obsessed with you, I want to consume you.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.” I’m certain of that.

He meets my eyes, and there’s something savage and untamed in them. “You don’t know what I dream about, little elf.”

“Bradford hated that your sister was pregnant, yes?”

Lucas nods slowly, expression grim.

“But you don’t feel like that.”

“Of course not.” His impatient snap, so similar to the grumpy responses he’s given me over the last six months, makes me smile. “You should have as many children as you want.”

“As many as I want?”

He tips his head ruefully. “Then maybe two more, just for me.”

Happiness bubbles up through my chest.

“He was jealous and controlling. And I…” He swallows. Then he brings one hand down and cups my jaw with tenderness that almost breaks my heart. “I do want to possess you. I’d die to keep you safe.”

“You can be jealous, and possessive,” I whisper. “And when you try to control me, I’ll know it’s for my security.”

“Will it though?” His eyebrows pinch. “Or am I doomed to be the same as my predecessor? In which case, I should⁠—”

“Kiss me, and I’ll prove to you that you’re not like him,” I interrupt.

He groans as he lowers his mouth and the moment we touch is pure joy. Then this kiss is just as hard and demanding as our first. But it’s longer, and so sweet and filthy. He slides his lips over mine, and nips at me. When I gasp, he takes advantage, and plunders my mouth with his tongue.

His hands come up and tangle in my hair, tightening and holding my head still, and his body presses me against the wall, trapping me in the best way. The slight tug on my scalp, the desperation in the sounds he’s making, and the little whimpers—they’re from me, I realise—make this the hottest moment of my life.

I’m putty in his hands, helpless to do anything but accept this scorching kiss and try to pull him closer, exploring his narrow hips and warm, muscled back covered with smooth cotton.

And when he pants, releasing my lips for a second, I take my opportunity.

“Ouch!”

“What is it?” He has drawn away instantly. “See, I told you I’d hurt you.”

His brows lower and he’s all horrified concern. Because of course he is. This man might be a monster, but he’s my monster.

“It’s nothing.” I give him a sassy smile. “You’d never let anything bad happen to me.”

There’s a long, taut silence. Then he breathes out, and his shoulders relax.

“Fuck.”

“I’m right,” I add.

“You,” he says as he crowds me against the wall again, and reaches for my bottom. “Are a naughty little elf. And the next time I give you pain, you’ll be moaning because it’s so good.”

I wriggle closer and allow myself a self-satisfied smirk. “All talk, Mr Knight.”

“You are so fucking dirty,” he growls, and when I gasp, his lips hit mine hard in a kiss with more unrestrained heat than I ever thought I’d get to feel. He sucks my lip into his mouth and the smallest hint of pain zings right to my clit.

“And do you know what happens to naughty girls?” His voice is gravelly as he nibbles at my cheek, then my neck.

“Do they get stuffed with⁠—?”

His laughter cuts me off and it’s so unexpected I draw back and stare.

He’s beautiful when he laughs. I mean, he’s gorgeous all the time, but he’s mesmerising like this.

“You’d like that, huh? Don’t worry. You will be stuffed, and spoiled, and treated. I’ll give you anything you want for Christmas, and all the other days of the year.” The light grin fades from his face to something darker, and hotter. “But tonight, I have other plans.”

He gathers me into his arms, then his mouth finds mine again and I squeak as he lifts me up, and I cling to him and kiss him as he takes the stairs two at a time up to the floor he and Ivy sleep on.

He pushes the door open with his shoulder, and barges in. His eyes gleam wickedly in the half-light. “Tonight, you’re mine.”