The Taming of Xander Sterne(15)

                ‘Yes, I— Look, I’m not used to having children around me, okay?’ Xander ran an exasperated hand through his hair. ‘I wouldn’t want to—I wouldn’t want—’ He wouldn’t want to what? Explode in temper at that timid little girl?

                Would he do that to her? Could he do that? Was that monster he had discovered inside him capable of doing something so horrible to a five-year-old girl?

                Xander no longer knew the answer to that question; that was the problem!

                His mouth firmed. ‘No running in the hallways, no screaming or shouting, no loud television programmes—especially in the mornings. And, as I’ve already said, no entering my bedroom suite, and definitely no touching any of the artwork.’

                None of which applied to her, Sam acknowledged wearily, but was all aimed specifically at her daughter.

                She certainly wasn’t prone to screaming and shouting, or watching loud television programmes at any time of the day or night. Nor did she have any intention of entering Xander’s bedroom suite, other than those occasions when she had to help him in or out of the shower, or to dress. Nor was there any reason for her to touch any of his no doubt priceless artwork. Why would she need to? He had a cleaning service that came in twice a week to vacuum and dust and do the laundry.

                All of his rules were for the benefit of her daughter.

                They were very similar to the rules that Malcolm had laid down for Daisy’s behaviour. Except he had gone even further once Daisy began to walk and talk, and stated that he didn’t so much as want to see or hear her. At least Xander hadn’t gone that far.

                Sam stood up and began to walk towards the kitchen. ‘That all seems perfectly clear.’

                ‘Samantha!’

                She halted abruptly but didn’t turn, swallowing as she realised her throat felt clogged with emotion. With tears. For having brought her daughter into yet another household where Daisy could perhaps be seen this time, but was certainly never to be heard.

                Somehow she had expected more of Xander Sterne.

                Oh, she had known before she met him, from reading newspaper articles about him over the years, that he was an arrogant playboy, who played as hard as he worked. She had also been aware, when she’d met him on Wednesday, that he obviously resented needing her help while his brother was away and she had been prepared to deal with that.

                But she wasn’t sure she could deal with having to subdue her daughter’s enthusiasm for life just to make him happy.

                She was no longer interested in making any man happy. Which was the main reason Sam hadn’t so much as dated once these past three years; she had vowed never to put her daughter in a situation like the one she had suffered with Malcolm for the first two years of her life.

                Once again Sam reminded herself that beggars couldn’t be choosers.

                Perhaps not, but she didn’t have to let another arrogant man dictate his terms to her, either.

                She wanted this job—the money was too good for her not to want it—but there was only so much she was willing to put up with in order to keep it.

                Sam turned sharply on her heel, an angry flush in her cheeks as she glared across the dining room at Xander Sterne. ‘I heard what you said, Mr Sterne, and I’ll do my best to see that you aren’t unnecessarily inconvenienced by having Daisy here. But I won’t go any further than that.’ She met his gaze challengingly now. ‘If you aren’t happy with that, then perhaps you should say so now and Daisy and I can leave tomorrow morning so that other arrangements can be made for you?’