Chapter Six

The Offer

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“W HAT POSITION?” AMY was still, but inside, she reeled.

A distant part of her suggested she should excuse herself and order her taxi home. She’d embarrassed herself enough at Worthington’s for one lifetime. Better that she bailed before she discovered he was only there for a bet or something even crueler, but sitting beside him on the leather seat, she knew there was no way she could leave.

Kyle had a presence that was absent in the vast majority of men. His aura was commanding, even when he didn’t say a word. It was as though there was no choice but to stop and listen to him, no choice but to consider what he said.

“It’s an encompassing role.” He leaned back in his place, watching her carefully. “Based at my home.”

“At your home?” Her heart hammered at the idea. What could Kyle need at home that he hadn’t already paid for?

What could he need from me?

“Yes,” he confirmed. “A housekeeper of sorts. I need someone organized, who can follow instructions.”

“A housekeeper?” She seemed only able to parrot his words back to him. “But I’m a legal secretary.” It was an uninspiring role that had left her underpaid and underwhelmed for years and a half-lie. She had endured the position, but since Graham’s passing, she’d been forced to take a second job as a cleaner. “I don’t know anything about running a house.” It had been years since she’d even had a proper one of her own to look after, and when her boys had been small, she’d barely ‘managed’ anything.

“There’s nothing to it.” He shrugged. “I’ll make sure you have everything you need for the role. Plus, it’s a live-in arrangement, which means if you were serious about not making the rent this month, then you won’t need to worry. You can move in straight away.”

“Live in ?” She pulled in a shaky breath, trying to imagine what sort of mansion Kyle owned. Maybe it was the remnants of the champagne, but Kyle’s offer seemed too good to be true.

“Yes. My house is large, and there’s plenty of space.”

She stared at him, trying to envision herself in a domestic role like the one he described. It was true, the legal work didn’t enthrall her, but could she really resign the role—everything she’d known for decades—on a whim?

“How much?” In the end, whether she liked it or not, it all came down to money—that same miserable currency that dominated her every waking moment. It didn’t matter if it was crazy to consider a job from a man she’d only met twice or if she considered the work demeaning. Ultimately, the choice boiled down to cash. “How much could you pay me?”

“How much do you need?” His eyebrow arched, daring her to aim big.

“I mean...” She hesitated, unsure if she could truly be honest about the extent of her debt. “I owe a lot of people a lot of money.” Her throat tightened as she admitted it aloud, the suffocating shame threatening to strangle her. “It’s cheerless, I’m afraid.”

“Define a lot .” He leaned closer, his sudden proximity spiking her heart rate. “You never said how much you owed.”

“It’s embarrassing,” she mumbled.

Her attention lowered along the length of his body, her gaze lingering on his groin before it crawled along his long legs.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed.” His hand rose to grip her chin lightly, insisting her attention was back on him. “I want to help, remember?”

“In total, it’s probably somewhere around four hundred thousand.” She tensed at the figure, although his grasp refused to let her look away.

How have I allowed myself to get into this much trouble ?

Anxiety twisted at her insides. Staring into his gaze, she struggled to remember.

“How much do you need immediately?” He hadn’t flinched at her answer, suggesting the kind of money she’d mentioned was no big deal to a man like him.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, wishing she could knock his hand away, yet too afraid to do anything to upset him.

She didn’t especially want to look after anyone’s house, but the idea of enough money to get out of debt and on her feet was too tempting not to hear out. She had to know the full extent of his offer.

“Maybe fifty thousand?”

“Make that fifty thousand, sir .” His thumb stroked her chin as her gaze rose to meet his. “If you’re going to be working for me, then I’ll expect you to talk to me with respect.”

What? The word echoed around her head.

“Fifty thousand, sir.”

She shifted on her seat, conscious of the way her nipples beaded beneath her dress. There was something ridiculously hot about ceding to him that way, and while she had no great desire to use the title, she’d consider calling him President of the Universe if it meant all her bills were paid and a future of financial freedom beckoned.

“Thank you, Amy.” He released her chin, his hand falling to his thigh. “I propose a trial. One week where you work for me, and in exchange, I’ll pay you the fifty thousand.”

Fifty thousand for one week? Was the guy fucking insane? There was rich, there was staggeringly wealthy, and then it seemed there was William Kyle.

“If we’re both content after the trial period, you can have the role full time,” he went on. “I’ll have a contract drawn up to explain your rights and main responsibilities. The salary per annum will be five million.”

“What?” Her jaw dropped. She had to have heard him wrong, didn’t she? “Did you say five million, sir ?” She almost tripped over the final word, but any title was irrelevant when that sum of money was on the table.

“I did.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment. “It’s exceptionally hard to find someone reliable, but I think you could be the one, Amy.”

Why me?

The question nearly left her lips, but as his gaze fluttered open, she wondered if he couldn’t read it in her eyes.

“But w-won’t you want references?” she stammered. “How can you trust me? You don’t even know me.”

“You can give me your references, yes.” Resolve echoed in his tone as though she’d assented and the deal was already done. “But we have our trial period. If I’m not happy after that, then I’ll help you find somewhere to rent with what I owe you.”

“The fifty thousand?” The idea of working for seven days and pocketing that much money was mind-blowing,

Is it too good to be true?

“Yes, Amy.” The corners of his mouth tugged up. “The fifty thousand.”

“Okay.” Wait, was she agreeing without so much as a moment’s further thought?

She pressed her lips together. I can’t afford not to take this opportunity.

“Okay?” He collected her glass and rose, walking it to the table. “Do we have a deal, Mrs. Kendal?”

She shivered at how her name sounded on his lips. No one had ever made it sound so dirty before. Being Graham Kendal’s wife had always been a rather humdrum affair, but whether it was Kyle’s presence, accent, or some unknown quality she was yet to define, he made it sound wonderfully forbidden.

“I should think about it.” She rose to join him. “But honestly, I don’t have the time. I have to be out of my apartment tomorrow.”

His brow rose. “Well, in that case, we’d better eat and see to that contract.”

“At this time?” Her focus fell to her watch. It was already gone nine o’clock in the evening.

“So long as you don’t mind moving out overnight?” A dry smile lit up his handsome face.

“Well...” She rubbed at her temples. “I guess I’d have had to finish packing, anyway.” Amy had boxed up most of her meager possessions but still had a few pots and pans to resolve. “But what about the contract?”

“I’ll have my lawyer bring that to us.” He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved his phone. “He can have it there in a few hours if you don’t mind taking a punt on me until then.”

She laughed at the idea she was the only one gambling. Sure, she was agreeing to live in the presumably enormous residence of the man, but he was trusting her to live there—in his home—and committing to paying her an obscene amount of money for a week’s worth of work. There would need to be trust on both sides, but the idea that she could clear the funeral plan and Jonah’s school fees was enough for her to make it work.

Where else could she find a chance to pay off so much debt with such little effort? And that didn’t even consider the wealth that would come her way if she chose to stay in the role long term. Seth and Jonah would never believe it.

I can hardly believe it.

“I’ll take a punt on you, Mr. Kyle .”

She felt much more like her old self as she joined him. In fact, as she trailed her fingertips over the smooth tabletop, she was struck by how much better she felt.

Almost younger...

Her lips curled at the preposterous idea. Considering her wet, crimson face, she must have looked dreadful, but for some reason, the thought no longer riled her.

It didn’t seem to bother him, after all. She’d crumpled into floods of tears and made a scene in what was clearly one of his favorite restaurants, and he hadn’t abandoned her in disgust. Instead, he’d looked after her, bringing her to the quiet library for consolation and a potential solution.

Who is this guy?

It wasn’t the first time she wondered, but gazing at her budding savior, the thought had never been more pertinent.

“I’m pleased to hear it.” His smile stretched wider. “Now, how about that dinner? We need fuel for this new chapter.”

Dinner . Her belly grumbled at the idea.

“But we haven’t even ordered.” She cringed as she remembered the state she’d been in when he’d led her away from the main restaurant. “They might have given our table away by now.”

“I doubt it.” He sounded exceptionally sure.

“Okay.” She was less certain. Places like Worthington’s wouldn’t be used to her abysmal behavior. “By the way, how did you know where we could come and talk?” She glanced around at the rows of dusty books. “What is this... a library?”

“It is, indeed.” His gaze followed her eyeline. “I needed somewhere to put all my first editions, and, as you’ll see, the house is already loaded with art and furniture.”

“Wait.” Her heart skipped a beat. “Are you saying all of these are yours?” She motioned around at the numerous vast bookcases. They were the kind that stretched from ceiling to floor and required ladders to reach those on the highest shelves. Amy had only ever seen them in the movies.

“Yes, Amy.” He chuckled, as though she was cute. “This whole place is mine.”

“The library?” Her brain was having trouble keeping up.

“Worthington’s,” he clarified.

You own Worthington’s?

Those words never made it to her mouth. She just stood there, gaping at the man who had so much while she had so little.

“Wow.” She gripped the mahogany.

“Sit down.” His large hand moved to cover hers. “I’ll have them serve us in here.”