The American Au Pair: Filthy Rich Royals by Parker M. S

The American Au Pair: Filthy Rich Royals by Parker M. S

Author:Parker, M. S.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Belmonte Publishing, LLC
Published: 2019-05-05T00:00:00+00:00


Twenty

Aeric

Standing in the doorway of Kitt’s room, I rubbed the heel of my hand over my chest. It had been three days since I’d watched her walk down the drive, a backpack pulling at her shoulders while she lugged a heavy duffel bag at her side.

I’d told myself I’d call and make sure she’d actually left the country, but I hadn’t done it.

Part of me was afraid she wouldn’t, and I’d feel compelled to follow up on my threat to have her forced out. I was going to have enough difficulty looking at my niece and nephew again once I brought them home to pack up before we left for Monaco. I’d seen them briefly the night before, visiting the home of Berlin’s Minister of Youth, Mila Kelly. It had been nearly impossible to leave them, but I’d done so.

In truth, I likely could have taken them with me to the airport—I doubted Mila Kelly would have stopped me. We could have flown straight to Monaco, and I could have cuddled the children. Not that I knew much about cuddling, but my mother did, surely. We could wait for the German authorities to solve the murder of my sister and brother-in-law while we dealt with the grim and necessary task of laying them to rest.

But it hadn’t felt right.

Both Josef and Karol had been content enough with Mila. Chancellor Ava Neumann had been quite right about that. Mila Kelly had four-year-old twin boys, and both Conrad and Darrick had clearly managed to keep my niece and nephew distracted. I’d been surprised at just how easily they’d done so. Surprised, and a little dismayed, something that Mila had clearly seen.

Mila was an attractive woman with smooth ebony skin. At nearly six feet tall, she cut a very commanding figure. As the children played, she’d spoken to me in a low, calm voice, explaining that my niece and nephew were too young to easily understand the finality of death. Josef’s grasp of it was more concrete than Karol’s—she seemed to have already forgotten—but even Josef didn’t fully understand yet.

That was why they so easily played with the two twins and Mila’s big, bear-like husband, a man easily my height, but with a broad barrel chest, a big laugh, and gingery red hair that curled madly around his wide, friendly face. He spoke German with an Irish accent, an interesting combination if ever I’d heard one, and even with my foul mood, he’d managed to make me smile a time or two.

And the children had laughed and shrieked and played like nothing was wrong—right up until it was time for me to leave. Then they’d begged me to stay, and Karol had started to cry when I said I couldn’t.

Even now, hours later, I felt sick with guilt.

It was for the best, I told myself.

I had enough to handle and worrying about how the children were processing the loss of their parents while I still struggled to find answers was more pressure than I needed to take on.



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