Spare Heir: A Billionaire Boss Single Dad, Nanny Romance (The Rochesters)

SPARE HEIR THE ROCHESTERS RACHEL HENKE RED BALLOON PRESS Copyright © 2023 by Rachel Henke All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This novel is dedicated to those who fear they are not enough. CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Epilogue Want more Sebastian & Nathalie? (Bonus Chapter) Read Caspian & Isabella’s Story Also by Rachel Henke Acknowledgments About the Author CHAPTER 1 Sebastian I’m at my London hotel office in Mayfair, ready for an early morning meeting. My eyes drift to the silver-framed photographs on my desk. Daisy, my five-year-old daughter, takes pride of place, and I feel my heart expand as I gaze at her mischievous grin. She’s the light of my life and keeps me going when life throws me curveballs. When my ex-wife left, the collapse of our marriage stunned me. I just presumed we’d be together forever, and for some reason, I didn’t see the end coming. I didn’t know she’d been busy falling out of love with me whilst I was absorbed in the workings of the hotel division of Rochesters & Co. I blamed myself for not being more attentive to her and not noticing what was going on at home. Daisy coming into our lives when we hadn’t planned on a child so early in our marriage was the best thing that ever happened to me. But Madeleine found motherhood stressful and restrictive. She adores Daisy, but she’s not keen on the daily demands of parenthood. She prefers the glitz and glamour of society life, which I suppose was part of the initial attraction of marrying into the Rochesters. I think she imagined married life with me would be far more glamorous than it is when you pull back the curtain. I work hard and take the family legacy seriously. Grandfather has seen to that. If I or any of my siblings step out of line and it comes to his attention, we soon receive a warning to correct the error of our ways. I prefer to stay behind the scenes and out of the spotlight whenever possible, but I’m the first to admit I do let myself get consumed by the business. I’m no different from the rest of the family in that respect. We were raised to be competitive and to strive for excellence whilst developing the Rochester dynasty. There’s no doubt we are privileged to be born into an ultra-high-net-worth family with a global business empire. We didn’t have to build it ourselves from the ground up like Grandfather, but the expectations that come with the privilege can be a heavy weight on our inexperienced shoulders. Understanding why things happen and how they unfold is easier when you look back, but when you’re in the thick of it, you don’t always see what’s coming. At least, I don’t… The car weaves slowly through the congested London roads until we reach the brow of Richmond Hill. I raise my head and catch a glimpse of the view of the sparkling Thames, nestled in the patchwork web of meadows. The late afternoon sun dances across the hedgerows. Spring is merging into summer, and I let out a contented sigh and lean back and stretch. It’s good to be home in daylight. In all my travels, I’ve not found anywhere to beat British summertime when the sky is a glorious azure blue and the countryside glows in shades of lush green. It’s so beautiful, it’s difficult to believe it’s real life and not an oil painting. The famous artist, Turner, painted the panoramic Richmond scene of the Thames, and it’s obvious why. It’s the only English landscape view to be protected by an Act of Parliament, and it never disappoints. We take a sharp turn and within a few minutes; the car pulls up in front of the house, and I thank my driver and tell him I’ll see him in the morning. I left the office earlier than usual. The new nanny started work today and although I trust my assistant to have hired the best, I want to meet her as soon as possible, and check my daughter is happy with the new arrangement. I can just as easily tie up loose ends from the office whilst sitting in the garden. Summer or not, I don’t take the sunshine for granted. British weather is notoriously unpredictable, and it might rain tomorrow, and the blue sky will be washed away and replaced by a dull grey, as though it never was. ‘Daddy,’ shouts Daisy, barrelling towards me as soon as the door clicks shut. I stride into the hall and sweep her up into my arms, holding her small wiry body high in the air before kissing her and gently lowering her back down to the marble floor. ‘Daddy, Nathalie, the new nanny is here,’ she exclaims. ‘We’ve been swimming, and it was amazing. She’s amazzzing.’ Amazing is her current favourite word. She fixes her big brown eyes on me. I know immediately I’m about to be suckered into something. ‘Please, please, will you come out to the pool and swim with me?’ Daisy’s wearing a damp robe and her hair is messy and tangled from swimming. ‘Don’t you want to dry off and warm up a bit?’ I ask. ‘And where is