Alex was, grudgingly, impressed by the lesson she was bestowing. Though he and Helena had grown up with nothing, those years were far behind them. It had been a long time since Helena had enjoyed great personal wealth, and he had silently feared that his nephews were being raised with a great appreciation for possessions.
“Now, why don’t you take your uncle upstairs while I fix your tea.”
“Tea is what they call dinner in ‘Strarlia.” Ian explained, his expression serious.
Sophie stood and the self-consciousness returned when she looked at Alex. “Their rooms are the second and third to the right,” she said, nodding at the stairs.
Alex’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. No, his eyes were softly calculating. “Boys,” he spoke without removing his gaze from her face. “Go to your rooms. I will be along in a moment.”
Ian moved quickly but John was preparing to mount a complaint. “Now, John.” Alex murmured, his eyes dropping to her full lips, and then lower still, to the skin at her décolletage.
Sophie swallowed nervously. “You don’t need to help me.”
“No,” he agreed with a firmness to his voice. “But I would like to.”
Two pink spots appeared in Sophie’s cheeks. It was on the tip of her tongue to object but she thought better of it at the last minute. This was her employer’s brother, and also a very powerful man. He was a guest in the house, and she was staff. It was certainly not her place to tell him to leave her alone.
“Fine,” she muttered, her smile tight. “The kitchen’s…”
“It is not necessary for you to tell me where things are in the house. I have been here before.”
Her flush deepened. “Not since I’ve worked here.”
“And how long is that?”
Sophie lifted her eyes to his face and then looked away again instantly. “Nine months.”
A long time. Almost a year. “You are very young.”
“I’m twenty four,” she bristled defensively.
“I am surprised my sister hired a nanny with such little experience.”
His tone rankled. “I beg your pardon, you have no idea what my experience is.”
“At twenty four, it can not be vast,” he pointed out with a sardonic lift of his brow.
“If you say so.” It was a curtly dismissive rejoinder that surprised them both. To cover her embarrassment, Sophie lifted a frying pan onto the stove and lit the ignition, then added some oil to it. She’d diced the chicken earlier and she pulled it from the fridge now, adding it to the oil with a sizzle.
Alex didn’t take up one of the seats across the kitchen, but instead propped his hip against the island bench. He was too close. Too big, too intimidating and far too unnerving. “What is your experience?”
Sophie lifted a spoon from the frying pan and shifted the chicken around. “Why do I feel like I’m being interviewed?”
“My nephews are of great value to me. It is natural that I would take an interest in their caregiver.”
“Their parents are their caregivers,” she clarified. “And they also take a great interest in me.”
Yes, he thought with a cynical lift of his lips. How much interest though?
“You’ve worked privately as a nanny?”
“Yes.” Her cheeks flushed. “I worked for two years for a family in Sydney before deciding to come to London.” It was a slight fudging of the facts, but this man hardly needed to know the ins and outs of that emotionally stressful time in her life.
“And this was your first post in England?”
“No.” She shook her head. “For two months I travelled with the Prime Minister’s family. He had various commitments abroad and I was hired in addition to their usual staff. When they returned, he made certain to help me find a good placement.”
“Hence you came to work for Helena.”