A Night With Lord Cole

Chapter 3: Whatever It Takes

His eyes were so devastatingly cold. He sat back in his chair, his eyes running over her body from her head to her toes, until a pulse shifted within her.

"You're Martin's daughter," he asked in a voice that made her knees buckle. Such a voice for a perfect man.

"Yes, My Lord," she whispered.

Cole stood up, his huge frame illuminating out the light. He walked around the desk and stopped inches from her while she took in his scent like second skin.

She swallowed, gripping her brief case harder, trying to break away from his taunting gaze.

"I read your file. You’ve never worked a day in your life, you come from new money" he said, his hand reaching out to tilt her chin up. His touch was electric, burning through her skin. "So tell me, Sarah. Why would a girl who was born with a silver spoon want to come here and wash my son’s clothes?"

Sarah looked into the eyes of the man who—unknown to her—was the heir to the command that had destroyed her father. The man knew that she was Martin's daughter and he had broken her father's entire empire in order to have her walk into the hall, in order to have her introduce herself as the daughter of Martins.

A perfect payback for Martins who dared lurk around in secret bringing ruins to his late wife, making him a widower and his son, Leo motherless. His son hasn't spoken in months because of the reckless action Martins took in order to get at Andrew's group.

But guess who is going to pay the price now? His own daughter Sarah Martins. The young school leaver whose innocence bled through any clothes she wore. Her perfect face, clean looking blue eyes that have only known money, soft life and never suffering.

One who counted billions and called it "mere" or used the tag "only" when purchasing expensive Hermes, R. Kelly, Louis Vuitton, Saint Laurent, Gucci. The one set to inherit half of Martins after leaving school. But have known nothing of pain. Of anger, of hurt.

But maybe, he's going to teach her now. He will teach her the hell her own father introduced him to since last winter.

Cole’s fingers tightened on her chin, his grip moving from a touch to a tether. He could see the tremor in her eyelashes, the way her chest heaved under her modest blouse.

"I asked you a question, Sarah," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous, gravelly silk. "Why are you here?"

Sarah forced herself to meet his gaze, hating the pool in between her legs, "My father... his company is gone. We have nothing. I need to provide for what’s left of my family."

" You want to save them? " Cole said, his smirk broadening into something truly predatory, " But I don't want a sob story about your family. I need a nanny for my four year old who hasn't spoken in months. "

" I'm... I'm here for the nanny position. " She stuttered, hating the intimidating gaze that did nothing but make her horny. His voice felt like a breath in between her p***y lips. Fanning the ember to leave her smothering all by herself.

" How so? " He asked, " You haven't washed clothes in your entire life, do you even know how to use the washing machine, prepare a meal, but you want to be my son's nanny, why? "

" Because... " She swallowed again, "I am good with kids." She lied.

" You're good with kids?"

Cole’s laugh was a low, jagged sound that didn't reach his eyes. He stepped even closer, the sheer wall of his chest nearly brushing against her, forcing her to tilt her head back until her neck ached.

"You're lying, Sarah," he whispered, his thumb moving from her chin to trace the trembling line of her lower lip. "You’ve never wiped a nose or changed a diaper in your life. You’ve spent your time in finishing schools and five-star resorts, being waited on by people who look exactly like the person you’re pretending to be today."

He knew everything about her. Sarah thought, her eyes following his finger that grazed too close to her lower lips. What would happen if she grabbed that finger in her tongue and sucked on it?

He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his stormy grey eyes searching for...for what she thought will both put them in trouble. She was already in trouble, and it's just a snap before she would jump on him.

"You didn't come here because you're 'good with kids.' You came here because this house is the only thing standing between your family and the gutter. And maybe..." He paused, his gaze dropping to the swell of her breasts beneath the fabric of her dress. "...maybe you came here because you wanted to see if the 'Lord' lived up to the rumors."

Sarah thought for a moment that she would c*m. She feared he could smell her own arousal. The pool between her legs was a persistent, throbbing ache that mocked her attempt at professionalism. She wanted to scream that she had worshipped him for years, that she had m*********d to his image until she was raw, but the weight of his presence kept her tongue tied.

"I can learn," she managed to choke out, her voice a thin thread of desperation. "I’m a fast learner. I’ll do whatever it takes to stay."

"Whatever it takes?" Cole repeated the words as if he were tasting them. "That is a very dangerous promise to make to a man like me."

He abruptly let go of her face and turned, walking toward the large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the grey, brooding gardens.

"My son is not a project, Sarah. He is a broken thing. My wife's death... it took his voice with her. He doesn't want a nanny who can quote Montessori theory. He needs someone who understands what it's like to lose everything."

He turned back to her, his expression unreadable, she was dying to visit the restroom where she can fully take care of herself.

"The room next to the nursery is yours. You start after my lawyers bring contract papers in the evening. But let me be clear: if I hear him cry because you don't know how to handle him, or if I find a single speck of dust on his clothes because you don't know how to use the laundry, you’re out. And I’ll make sure the 'Martins' name is blacklisted from every employment agency from here to the coast."

He walked past her, his shoulder clipping hers intentionally, her heels cluttered backwards slightly.

"Follow me. Let’s see if you can even look my son in the eye without flinching."

But she couldn't move. She stood on the floor, "sir... Sir.... Where... Where can I... I want ... To make use of your restroom... "