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Unfettered Vampire (Found & Freed: The Unfettered #5) 1. Chapter 1 3%
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Unfettered Vampire (Found & Freed: The Unfettered #5)

Unfettered Vampire (Found & Freed: The Unfettered #5)

By S. Rodman
© lokepub

1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

Ned

T hat is one impressive house. I feel daunted just looking at it. It is a million miles from the tiny two-up two-down in the East End of London where I started my family all those years ago. Well, not a million miles in actual distance, it’s only about eighty of those. But it is so far away in every other aspect, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

Am I happy that my great-great grandkids are growing up in luxury? Yes. Am I happy that it is a side effect of being enslaved by a psycho billionaire? No. Well, maybe yes. Having some good come out of it has to be something.

A heavy sigh escapes me. I don’t know the answer. I’m tired and I just want to see my family. Whatever I think or feel about things is irrelevant. It happened. It is reality. Time to get on with it. Moping is for losers.

With that thought in mind, I carefully drive my car down the driveway and get it as close to the front door as I can. Thank heavens there is a porch, and it is a cloudy day. I’m really not looking forward to getting older, and direct sunlight meaning bursting into flames instead of intense discomfort. But I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

All right, time to take a deep breath and make a run for it.

I grimace as I barrel out of the car and sprint the short distance to the shade of the porch. I’m so anxious to get out of the sun that I don’t even hesitate about ringing the doorbell.

The chimes ring out pleasantly and the large fancy door opens swiftly. I quickly step inside into the white marble floor of the entrance lobby. The grand staircase is super impressive.

“Edmund?” says a pleasant voice behind me.

They are probably slightly offended that I barged past them, but there is sod all I can do about that. I needed to get away from the sun. Hopefully, they won’t report my social faux pas to their boss.

“It’s Ned,” I reply automatically as I turn.

And then my long dead heart thumps. Jesus effing Christ. My eyes are feasting on the most handsome man to have ever walked the earth.

Tall, check. Dark, check. Handsome, hell yeah, because if I needed to breathe I’d be asphyxiating right now.

He is definitely six foot something. With dark, luxurious looking hair in what has to be an extremely expensive haircut. Eyes the color of finest whiskey. Strong nose and jawline. Manly chin. Good tan.

Flipping heck. If he smiles, I just know his teeth are going to be dazzling white and perfect.

My gaze rakes over his broad chest and then down over his strong legs. All wrapped up in a very fancy suit .

I swallow. God damnit. This is no butler. This has to be Morgan Dowd. My great-granddaughter’s widower.

Apparently, taste in men is genetic or something. Because, damn it. This is unreal.

“Come this way, please,” he says.

I nod mutely and follow him. Why the hell did he have to open his own door? He could have sent a member of staff to do it. Now his first impression of me is me bursting into his house uninvited.

Not that he seems bothered. And besides, I am about to glamor the poor man into hiring me as his nanny. It is not as if he needs to like me.

I glance around as he leads me down a hallway. The house is silent. It feels empty. I don’t think the kids are here and it is stupid of me to be disappointed about that. I knew they wouldn’t be. Because who the hell introduces their kids to all the people they are interviewing?

Morgan opens the door to a lovely study. There is a big mahogany desk, groaning bookshelves. And a plush leather chair in front of the desk. Right in a beam of dazzling sunlight.

“Take a seat,” he says as he gestures to the cursed chair.

Fuck my life. The only other chair in here is the one behind the desk. The one he is about to sit on.

“Would you like a drink?” he asks.

“Whiskey, please,” I answer.

And then I remember it is not even lunchtime. And this is a job interview. For a nanny position.

Morgan gives a soft chuckle. “I know the feeling. How about coffee to tide us over?”

“That would be great!” I blurt .

Oh my days. I can’t believe he took my fuck up for a joke. I’m never this lucky. Ever.

He wanders over to a side table, and I belatedly spot a gorgeous coffee machine. For fuck’s sake. I thought he was going to have to leave the room. Oh well, there is nothing for it. I’m going to have to act while his back is turned.

Quickly, I grab the chair and yank it sideways, towards the shade. It is far heavier than it looks and it scrapes loudly across the stained floorboards.

Morgan whirls around at the noise and catches me red-handed. Wrapped around his expensive chair and inexplicably dragging it across his fancy floor.

I wince. “The um…sun was in my eyes.”

He blinks at me. Then he robotically holds out a coffee. I think I have really freaked him out now. Should have known my luck wasn’t going to last. I’m going to have to glamor the shit out of him.

I take my coffee and sheepishly sit in the chair. At least it is out of the sun now.

Morgan takes his seat on the other side of the desk. He places his coffee cup down, and then he sighs heavily.

“The kids are four, three and two years old. Their mother died by suicide just over a year ago. I’ve taken as much time away from my business as I can, but I need to be more hands on. Hence needing a nanny.”

He takes a deep breath and the grief in his eyes is breaking my heart. “I just wanted to get that out in the open.”

“Okay,” I nod calmly.

While inside, I feel like I am dying. How many times has he had to say that today? Lay his grief bare for everyone to see. It’s awful. And it is all my fault .

Ritchie said he’d kill my family if I didn’t behave. And stubborn, arrogant ass that I am, I didn’t listen. And my great-granddaughter and her family paid the price.

“The kids are doing remarkably well. They have a great therapist. The job isn’t anything to do with that.”

I nod my understanding. “And how are you doing?”

He blinks at me again. His body even recoils a little. A tiny, rueful smile tugs on the corners of his generous lips.

“Not so good.”

Now I’m the one startling in surprise. That was a brutally honest answer. But I did ask. And I’m a stranger, a safe space. Someone he thinks he is never going to see again, because I’m pretty sure he is not going to give me the job by his own volition.

He visibly rouses himself and picks up a piece of paper.

“So you don’t have any professional experience, but you helped raise your baby sister?”

She was my daughter. I want to say it. It is on the tip of my tongue. I long to claim her, to tell the world that she existed and that she was wonderful. But I can’t. I look nineteen. Early twenties at most and that is shockingly young to have kids these days.

I want to come across as normal and unremarkable as possible. As well as avoiding awkward questions about where my child is. So, sister is the lie I am going with.

My Barbara has to stay dead and buried. As much as it pains me. But this is all so I can take care of her great-grandkids, so I think she would forgive me.

“Yeah, that’s right,” I say with a smile.

Morgan doesn’t reply. His eyes look over the piece of paper in his hand. My shitty resume, I assume. I only threw enough of a one together to get an interview. My plan always was to get my foot in the door and then use my powers to get him to give me the job.

Except I wasn’t expecting to feel guilty about it. Goddammit!. This is awful. Stupid conscience. Dumb morals. What good have they ever done me?

Morgan sighs heavily and places my resume down. Then he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“The job is yours, if you want it.”

His softly spoken words drift around the study. My mind replays them. Several times.

“What?” I splutter, because I must have misheard him.

“You’re hired.”

I stare helplessly at him. He looks at me and smiles. A nice smile, even though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

I haven’t used any glamor. He has to have had dozens of far more suitable candidates than me. What the hell is going on?

“You are a man,” he says.

Well, no shit. Ten out of ten for observation.

He shrugs. “It feels less like replacing her.”

His gaze drops to the floor and his shoulders droop. For the second time today, my long dead heart beats. Fuck me. My great-granddaughter had excellent taste in men. Truly phenomenal. Her husband is hotter than hell and so damn lovely it is unreal.

I can feel his love for her. It is a palpable thing hanging in the air between us. He loves her. Misses her. Morgan mourns his wife with an intensity that smolders.

The knowledge settles my determination. I’m going to take this job. I’m going to look after the kids, but now I’m also going to look after him, the very best I can. Because, lord knows he deserves it. And it is the very least I can do. A shitty pathetic gesture towards making amends for this terrible thing I have done.

And while I’m doing so, I need to keep my heart dead. I absolutely cannot fall for this man. Nope. It cannot happen. For so very many reasons. I don’t deserve him, for a start.

But most of all, because his heart is already taken.

I take a deep breath and seal my resolve into my soul.

Then I smile. “When do you want me to start?”

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