Ivy Series Teacher Student Romance - Boxed Set: Romance Boxed Sets for Kindle Unlimited (Ivy Series - Teacher Student Romance Book 7)

by Suzy K Quinn

I sit on the edge of the sofa. ‘I’m sorry. About last night. I was just tired.’

  ‘I know you’re tired. That’s why I’m arranging some extra help for you.’

  ‘Marc. Listen. I think maybe I just miss you during the day. Perhaps if you just came home earlier—’

  ‘It would only solve half the problem,’ says Marc. ‘You’re tired, Sophia. You need someone to share the burden.’

  ‘Ivy’s not a burden.’ I drop onto the sofa beside him.

  ‘No. Of course she isn’t. But she is tiring. And when you’re exhausted like this, you’re not thinking straight. You think you want to act, when all you really want is a good night’s sleep.’

  Maybe Marc’s right. But …

  ‘I see the cogs ticking, Mrs Blackwell,’ says Marc, stroking a finger down my forehead. ‘What is going on in there?’

  ‘I’m thinking about acting,’ I admit.

  ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Oh so patronising.’

  ‘But right.’ Marc puts down his coffee cup. ‘Now listen. I’ve arranged to have a nanny accompany us on this trip. Just temporarily. So you can get used to the idea of accepting help.’

  ‘Marc—’

  ‘Sophia. You are exhausted. It isn’t healthy – taking all this on yourself.’

  ‘Millions of women—’

  ‘Millions of women have mothers, sisters to help out,’ says Marc. ‘You have no one. That’s going to change. As of today. Our new nanny will accompany us on the plane. And when we reach our destination, she can look after Ivy while we make our appointment.’

  ‘You expect me to let someone I’ve never met look after Ivy?’

  ‘Do you think I’d let anyone near our daughter who hadn’t been properly vetted?’

  ‘I’m her mother, Marc. The most important vetting comes from me.’

  He folds up his newspaper. ‘You should know to trust me by now.’

  ‘Ivy’s so young. It’s way too soon to have someone else helping out.’

  ‘It’s not too soon.’

  I feel tears coming again, and swipe them away. Why do I keep crying all the time?

  Marc rearranges Ivy and pulls me against his chest. ‘You are a good mother, Sophia. A wonderful mother. But it’s time to loosen the reins.’

  ‘And get help from someone I’ve never met?’

  ‘The new nanny comes highly recommended. I promise you – she’s the best there is. Look, this is just for the trip. Okay? If you don’t like the nanny, we’ll send her home. Now eat some breakfast. The car will be here soon.’

  7

  ‘So tell me about this nanny,’ I say, as we drive towards City Airport. ‘Have you met her?’

  ‘No,’ says Marc. ‘I’ve never met her. But I know her husband. And Denise gave me the recommendation. There’s no one I would trust more. This nanny has worked for some prominent London families.’

  Which means she’s probably very snooty, I decide. Well, if she’s not my sort of person, I’ll say so straight away. I’m not having anyone I don’t like looking after my baby.

  ‘This is a favour,’ Marc continues. ‘Technically, she doesn’t work anymore. Not since she was married.’ He raises a teasing eyebrow. ‘But her husband let her off the leash for our trip.’

  ‘Let her off the leash?’

  ‘Just a turn of phrase,’ says Marc, his lip twitching. ‘Of course, if you’re interested in leashes …’

  I can’t help smiling. ‘Stop that.’

  ‘I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy this trip,’ says Marc. ‘We had some unfinished business in the kitchen yesterday, didn’t we?’

  My cheeks redden. ‘You can’t talk like that with Ivy around.’

  ‘All the more reason to hire a nanny.’

  The private jet is as beautiful as ever – soft, white leather seats and a tan cushioned interior.

  I smell coffee and freshly baked pastries as we climb aboard.

  Marc has arranged for a baby cot to be placed by our seats, but Ivy is wide-awake as the engines start, staring at everything.

  I hold her in my arms, so she can look out of the window.

  As the ground crew load the plane, a limo pulls up.

  ‘That’s weird.’ I frown. ‘How can the engines be starting if the pilot’s only just arrived?’

  But it’s not the pilot.

  A young, red-haired girl steps out of the limo. She hands a duffle bag to a man in a neon-yellow vest, then climbs the plane steps.

  ‘This is her,’ says Marc, standing. ‘The new nanny.’ He strides down the plane.

  My heart pounds.

  ‘Welcome onboard,’ Marc calls down the steps. ‘Sophia has been waiting to meet you. Come this way.’

  I cuddle Ivy close to my chest.

  ‘Well this is her,’ I whisper. ‘The new nanny. Listen – cry if you don’t like her. And then mummy will know. Okay?’

  The red-haired girl steps onto the plane, and I scrutinise her from head to toe.

  She’s younger than I expected – I suppose I think of nannies as old dragons. And she’s pretty, with pale skin and freckles.

  She can’t be very experienced, I decide. She’s barely older than me.

  I like her clothes, though. She wears jeans, which are embroidered with black sequins, and a baggy off-the-shoulder sweatshirt with a hand-printed Scottish flag on the front.

  I’m glad she isn’t formally dressed – that would have been an instant black mark.

  The girl smiles when she sees me.

  ‘Hi.’ She marches along the plane and sticks out her hand. ‘You must be Sophia. I’m Seraphina. Seraphina Mansfield.’

  8

  ‘Um … hi.’ I let the girl shake my hand.

  Seraphina seems … nice. Natural. Not stiff or stuck up.

  Her red hair falls about her shoulders, and Ivy reaches up to grab a handful of it.

  ‘Babies always do that,’ Seraphina laughs. ‘Must be something to do with the colour. So this is Ivy? She’s beautiful, isn’t she?’

  Seraphina perches on the chair arm and strokes Ivy’s head. ‘Gorgeous. And she looks just like you. Marc tells me you’re an actress.’

  ‘Was an actress.’ I turn to the window.

  ‘Listen, I know it’s tough.’ Seraphina slides into the chair beside me. ‘Having someone else look after your baby. I’m not here to try and take over. But I’m great at giving tired mothers a few nights off. I don’t mind waking up. Not at all.’

  Ivy is really staring at Seraphina. And smiling.

  With a clunk, the plane door swings closed, and our air steward pulls the lock into position.

  Marc watches me from the front of the plane, arms folded, a tiny smile on his lips.

  ‘I’ll leave you three to get to know each other.’ He takes a seat near the cock pit.

  ‘You know what?’ says Seraphina, stroking Ivy’s cheek. ‘If you’re not comfortable with anything at any point, just tell me. Okay? I kind of get the feeling this was arranged over your head.’

  I laugh. She really is nice. And Ivy seems to like her.

  ‘Marc arranged it,’ I admit. ‘He’s so convinced that a break will do me good.’

  ‘And what do you think?’

  I find myself chewing a fingernail. ‘Marc’s often right about things.’

  ‘You sure about that? Or does he just think he’s right?’

  I laugh again. ‘No, he honestly is right a lot. I should give this a try. It could be that after a few night’s sleep, I feel like myself again.’

  ‘You don’t feel like yourself?’

  ‘We-ell, I love being a mother,’ I say. ‘I love Ivy.’

  ‘But?’

  And then I hear myself tell this total stranger the truth. ‘I miss acting.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ says Seraphina. ‘When you have a passion, it hurts not to do it.’

  ‘How long have you been a nanny?’ I ask her.

  ‘Since I was sixteen. Well.’ She lowers her voice. ‘Eighteen,
officially. But I started work young.’

  ‘Marc says you don’t work anymore.’

  ‘Oh, I so do work!’ she laughs. ‘I mean, just on temporary placements these days. There’s a little boy back home I’ve fallen in love with, so I can’t leave him for long. Did Patrick say I don’t work any more? I’ll kill him.’

  ‘Who’s Patrick?’ I ask.

  ‘My husband. He’s what you call traditional. If he had his way, I wouldn’t lift a finger.’

  ‘Sounds familiar,’ I say, my eyes wandering to Marc.

  ‘But I couldn’t imagine not working,’ says Seraphina. ‘It’s who I am, you know?’

  ‘I know what you mean.’

  Ivy is being so good and still. I feel a wave of guilt. How could I even think about acting when I have this beautiful baby?

  ‘Would you like to hold her?’ I say, offering Ivy to Seraphina.

  ‘I’d love to.’ Seraphina takes Ivy and makes faces at her.

  Ivy lets out a little giggle, and my heart melts.

  ‘She likes you,’ I say. ‘I suppose all children do.’

  ‘Eventually,’ says Seraphina. ‘But not always at first. Ivy here is very friendly. Must have a good mother.’ She winks.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’

  ‘Of course you’re a good mother,’ Seraphina insists. ‘Now listen. Don’t feel guilty about someone else helping out with your daughter. You know what? Half the world share their babies around. Mothers aren’t designed to do it alone.’

  I sigh. ‘I already have so much help around the house.’

  ‘Being a mother is always tiring,’ says Seraphina. ‘No matter how much help you have. When was the last time you had a whole night’s sleep?’

  ‘Before Ivy was born,’ I admit.

  ‘See? Your shift never ends.’

  ‘I love it though,’ I insist.

  ‘Of course you do. But that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to love other things. And still want to act. Anyway, listen. I’m here to help on this trip. So let me help. Okay?’

  9

  As the plane comes in to land, I see miles of fir trees, snowy mountains and blue lakes.

  Where are we?

  Ivy is sleeping now, strapped into her cot.

  At the back of the plane, Seraphina naps on the daybed.

  I unbuckle myself and wobble down the aisle towards Marc.

  ‘So where are we?’ I ask him.

  Marc pulls me onto his lap. ‘Nice to see you’re as curious as ever.’

  ‘Who wouldn’t be?’ I say.

  He strokes hair from my face. ‘You know, we have some unfinished business. From the kitchen table yesterday. I’m hoping to settle that business later today. After we land.’

  ‘But WHERE will we land?’ I insist.

  He smiles. ‘Switzerland.’

  ‘Oh wow.’ I lean towards the window. ‘That’s amazing. Why didn’t you just tell me where we were going?’

  ‘It would spoil the anticipation,’ Marc’s lips twitch. ‘And you know how I feel about anticipation.’

  ‘You are infuriating. Do you know that?’ I lean into his hard chest, and his arms come tight around me.

  ‘We work well together, don’t you think?’ he whispers into my hair.

  ‘Mostly, yes.’

  ‘Mostly?’ Marc pulls me back so I’m looking right up at him. ‘Careful, Sophia. Don’t make the punishment even worse.’

  I give him a warning ‘not here’ look, and pull myself off his lap.

  ‘I’d better go check on Ivy.’

  A shiny black 4x4 people carrier picks us up from the airport, its huge tyres holding us high off the road.

  We drive up a winding mountain trail of fir trees and blue rock.

  From time to time, I catch flashes of a sparkling blue lake below us.

  Leaning against the window, I smile at green trees.

  ‘I love this place,’ I whisper to Marc, who sits beside me, his hand firmly on my thigh.

  Seraphina is on the other side of the car, with Ivy beside her in a baby seat. She’s spent the whole journey so far talking to Ivy and making her smile.

  I’m really getting to like this girl. She’s so at ease. And so natural with Ivy. If I were a baby, I’d like her too.

  A few jaunty wooden houses are set into the mountainside, and I see signs for shops and restaurants in several different languages – French, German and Italian.

  Soon, mountainside gives way to shops, cottages and restaurants, and we drive into a stunningly beautiful chocolate-box town set around a crystal-clear lake.

  ‘So where exactly are we?’ I ask Marc.

  ‘Montreux,’ he replies, squeezing my thigh. ‘By Lake Geneva.’

  ‘Are we going skiing or something?’

  His lips twitch. ‘Not quite.’

  The 4x4 drives along the lake, and I see a beautiful, yellow wedding-cake building overlooking the water. It’s huge, with a hundred twinkling windows.

  ‘This is where we’re staying,’ says Marc, as the car pulls to a stop.

  ‘Here?’ I say, looking up and up. ‘It’s like a castle.’

  Marc’s lips flicker into a smile. ‘Very fitting, don’t you think? For a princess.’

  ‘And why are we here, exactly?’ I ask.

  10

  Marc unbuckles his seatbelt. ‘That you will find out later.’

  I roll my eyes, but can’t help grinning.

  ‘Look, Ivy,’ I say, leaning over to unclip her baby seat. ‘This is where we’ll be staying tonight.’

  The chauffeur opens our car door.

  ‘Here.’ Seraphina reaches for Ivy. ‘Let me take the baby while you get out.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, surprised by how willing I am to put Ivy into her arms.

  I really do like her, I realise. Maybe a nanny isn’t such a bad idea after all.

  The hotel lobby is astonishing – a stretch of diamond marble tiles, leading to a sweeping, gold-railed staircase.

  Yellow-suited bellboys hurry across the marble with a trolley for our luggage, the wheels gliding silently on the smooth floor.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Blackwell.’ A black-suited gentleman steps from behind the lobby desk. ‘A very warm welcome to our hotel. I’ve been sent to greet you personally, as your butler and concierge. Anything you wish for, you only have to ask me.’

  The man wears a round, yellow cap, and his white-black hair is neatly cut around his ears.

  I detect an Italian accent, and reply, ‘Molte grazie,’ without thinking.

  The man’s face lights up. ‘You speak Italian?’

  ‘A little,’ I say. ‘My mother taught me. A long time ago.’

  He grabs my hand and shakes it warmly. ‘Benvenuto! Benvenuto. A pleasure to have you here. Please, allow me to show you to your suite. The best room in the hotel.’ He puts his fingers together and gives them an extravagant Italian kiss. ‘Bellissimo! Please come with me, Mrs Blackwell. My name is Phillipe. As I say, ask me for anything at all.’

  I notice Marc smiling at me.

  ‘What?’ I ask.

  ‘It looks like someone else has fallen in love with you,’ he says, stroking hair from my face.

  Phillipe leads us up the black-carpeted staircase.

  Marc and I follow.

  ‘The nanny quarters are just down there,’ Phillipe says, gesturing down the hallway.

  ‘Great,’ says Seraphina. ‘I’ll go unpack.’

  ‘No need madam.’ Phillipe gives her a bright smile. ‘The housekeeper will be in attendance soon.’

  ‘Well, maybe I’ll just check out the view or something.’ Seraphina winks at me. ‘I’ll leave you two to get settled. Let me take Ivy.’

  ‘Oh, Ivy can stay with us,’ I say. ‘Honestly, it’s fine.’

  ‘Sophia.’ Marc replies with a warning voice. ‘You need to practise letting go of Ivy from time to time. Starting from now.’

  ‘He’s right, you know.’ Seraphina takes Ivy and sways her back
and forth. ‘But if you’re not comfortable with anything, just let me know, okay? I’m right down the hall.’

  I nod, feeling my heart tug.

  ‘It’ll be okay,’ says Seraphina, giving me a kind smile.

  My heart softens a little.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Blackwell?’ Phillipe waves us towards silky double doors. ‘Here is your room.’

  I turn, as Phillipe opens the doors.

  Wow.

  Our suite is enormous. Soft, white furniture, a four-poster bed, dishes of chocolates and six gleaming sets of balcony doors.

  Goodness, the view. Panoramic and astonishing – the lake, blue and perfect, glimmers beside snow-topped mountains.

  ‘There’s just one thing,’ I say. ‘We need a cot. For Ivy.’

  The butler puts a hand to his chest. ‘Mrs Blackwell! A thousand apologies. This should already have been arranged. Please let me—’

  ‘Actually, there’s no mistake,’ says Marc. ‘I didn’t request a cot. Ivy will sleep in Seraphina’s room.’

  ‘Sleep? No Marc, I couldn’t,’ I insist, shaking my head. ‘Not yet. She’s never even been abroad before.’

  ‘She’ll be no further away than when you’re at home with the baby monitor,’ Marc says, sliding hands into his pockets. ‘You can see her any time you like.’

  ‘You have nothing to worry about in this hotel, Mrs Blackwell,’ offers Phillipe, fussing with the thick, silk curtains. ‘It’s a very safe place. Excellent security. And so romantic. Take some alone time with your handsome husband. Enjoy.’

  Marc strides over and gives our butler a folded note. ‘Thank you, Phillipe. There won’t be anything else.’

  ‘You don’t want I unpack your things?’ Phillipe’s hands drop from the curtains, his eyes crinkling with concern.

  ‘Not right now.’

  Phillipe looks between us, then swiftly crosses the room, closing the doors behind him.

  When the double doors are closed, I turn to Marc. ‘That seemed a little curt. Even for you. He was only trying to help.’

  Marc locks the door. ‘You didn’t see how much I tipped him.’

  ‘Money doesn’t make up for good manners,’ I say, sitting on the soft bed.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you. Alone.’ Marc tests the door to make sure it’s locked. ‘Sophia. We have an appointment tomorrow. And dinner this evening—’