Dirty Brit: Love Without Limits Read online

  Dirty Brit

  Love Without Limits

  Frankie Love

  C.M. Seabrook

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dirty Brit

  1. Callum

  2. Dina

  3. Callum

  4. Dina

  5. Callum

  6. Dina

  7. Callum

  8. Dina

  9. Callum

  10. Dina

  Epilogue 1

  Epilogue II

  Preview

  About C.M.

  About Frankie

  Copyright

  Edited by My Brother’s Editor

  Cover by Mayhem Cover Creations

  Copyright © and 2019 by Frankie Love and C.M. Seabrook

  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.

  Dirty Brit

  Love Without Limits

  I’m a single father and my darling six-year-old is the epitome of handful.

  But the moment our new nanny sweeps into our lives, everything changes.

  Dina’s more than a Portuguese bomb-shell.

  She has a tender heart, a way with words, and makes my gray London life suddenly seem bright.

  She’s young and innocent.

  I’m a widower and an earl.

  I have baggage that I can’t ask her to carry.

  But when she’s in my arms, I want to sweep her off her feet.

  Dear Reader,

  This is no regency romp - this is a straight-up smut set in modern day England.

  Ready for a dirty Brit with a sexy accent? Look no further.

  This short and steamy read is the best stay-cation money can buy!

  Xo, Frankie & Chantel

  Chapter One

  Callum

  “I don’t want a new nanny.” Amelia stomps her foot and pouts up at me. My daughter may only be six years old, but she’s already mastered the art of manipulation. Even knowing that I still have a hard time saying no to her.

  However, the nanny is non-negotiable. I may be an earl, and hold a seat on the Queen’s council, but I still have to work.

  “Why can’t you stay home, Daddy?” She stares up at me with those big blue eyes, and I almost give in to her demand.

  I know I’ve spoiled her, but after her mother passed away when she was a little over a year old, I’ve felt the need to make the loss up to her. Not that I could control Margaret’s passing. I only had three months with her after she was diagnosed with a rare form of lymphoma.

  We’d married young, for convenience, but I did love her. And she gave me the most special gift of all - Amelia.

  My daughter may have inherited my wife’s blonde hair and freckles, but the child has acquired my own stubbornness, which is the reason we’ve gone through over twenty nannies in the past five years. And after the unfortunate events that happened with the last one, I had to go through a new agency out of the US.

  The woman’s qualifications are a far cry from the British nannies who’ve been in my employ, but I’ve run out of options.

  “I’ve told you, darling,” I say, crouching to Amelia’s level. “If I don’t work, I can’t afford to buy you all the pretty little things you like.”

  “I don’t care.” She wraps her arms around my neck and squeezes tight. “I don’t want you to go.”

  I sigh, and stand, Amelia still wrapped around me like a spider monkey. “What am I going to do with you, hmm?”

  She pulls back. “Take me to the lake, Daddy. We can build a sandcastle as tall as Big Ben.”

  I chuckle. “That would be quite a feat.”

  “Please, Daddy. We haven’t gone to the lake in so long.”

  “I’ll look at my schedule and see if we can schedule a day.” Through the window, I see the car pull up to the front of the house, and my driver, Harold, get out. “I think she’s here.” I place Amelia’s feet back on the floor. “I’ll make a deal, you be on your best behavior and I’ll see about the beach day.”

  She scrunches her nose at me. “You promise?”

  “I do.”

  With a sigh, she nods, then takes my hand and we walk to the front door to greet the new nanny. Before we get there, Amelia exclaims. “I have to use the potty, Daddy.”

  I frown. I know this game. Amelia uses the bathroom as a way to avoid situations. For a six-year-old, she’s much too smart for her own good. “Alright, but be quick. And wash your hands.”

  Amelia scurries upstairs to the second-floor bathroom and I turn to pull open the front door. I have no idea what to expect, and my hopes aren’t high. I love my little girl, but the last thing I need this summer is to struggle with finding childcare. There’s enough on my plate with work and being a single father.

  The agency forwarded me the woman’s resume, so I know that her name is Dina Pacheco and that she’s from Seattle, and has a diploma from a culinary school. I’m not sure how that makes her qualified for this line of work, but the woman I’d spoken to at the agency had insisted she was the best choice.

  Yet when Harold opens the back door of the town car, I wonder if he didn’t pick up the wrong woman at the airport. She isn’t in a white apron and black dress, like the rest of the nannies I’ve hired, that’s for sure.

  Her outfit is more colorful than the peacocks that my aunt Martha keeps at her vineyard. She’s wearing a bright, floral kimono over distressed jeans - the kind you see people wearing and wonder did they actually buy them like that on purpose? Gaping holes at the knee and thighs ... showing off a fair bit of skin. It’s the color of shimmering sand and it makes me wonder if Amelia’s idea of spending the day at the beach isn’t rather perfect after all.

  She wears impractical wedge heels in pink and there’s a leopard print tote bag on her shoulder that’s nearly as big as she is. She’s petite, all curves and color, and my cock, which hasn’t shown interest in anyone in a long time, instantly hardens.

  Shit.

  Her long, wavy dark hair has hidden her face from me, but when she brushes it back, I’m not prepared for the eyes that look back at me. They’re dark, a rich chocolate brown. But it’s not the color that gives me pause, it’s the way I swear I can see into the woman’s very soul. They’re filled with as much brightness, and life, as her outfit.

  And then she smiles. She has two deep dimples in both of her cheeks, and even though it’s a typical drab day in London, the sun seems to come out.

  Her gaze rests on mine for a moment, and I see that smile falter slightly.

  “I’m Dina Pacheco. Are you Callum Wharton?” she asks, her voice as light and breezy as her smile.

  “Uh, yes. Yes, I am. Callum is fine,” I say, trying to string together words. One look at her and I’m caught off balance. A thing that rarely, if ever, happens to me. I’m an earl, for Christ’s sake, not a schoolboy with a crush. I can certainly speak to this exotic creature.

  Except apparently not. Because I’m flustered in a way I’ve never been in my life.

  “So...can I come in?” She lifts her shoulders as she asks the question and I realize it’s time to get out of the way and let her inside.

  “Of course, right this way,” I say as Harold brings in her luggage. “The flight was acceptable, I presume?”

  She smiles, a small laugh playing on her lips. “I suppose it was acceptable.”

  “Suppose?” I’m taken aback and she must notice. Her hand falls to my arm as she laughs apologetically. “I’m just tea
sing, Callum. You hired a private jet for me. I don’t think I’ve ever been treated so well. So thank you, I mean it.”

  I can relax then, realizing I haven’t upset her and before I can say anymore, Amelia is bounding down the steps, her eyes wide.

  “She looks like a flower!” my daughter exclaims with the same pleasure in her voice as she had when I took her to Disney Paris over Christmas to meet the princesses.

  “You must be Amelia,” Dina says without missing a beat. She crouches to my daughter’s level and holds her hand out. “I’m Dina.”

  Amelia purses her lips, and I give her hand a small squeeze.

  “Manners,” I remind her.

  “My other nannies wanted me to call them by their last names.”

  “I prefer you call me Dina, but if you want, you can call me Miss Pacheco.”

  “That’s a funny name.”

  “Amelia,” I warn.

  “It’s Portuguese,” Dina says, unfazed by her rudeness. “But I’m from the United States. A city called Seattle.”

  “Is that why you speak funny?”

  She laughs. “I suppose I do. Maybe you can teach me how to speak proper English,” she says the last two words in a terrible British accent, and I can’t help but smile. “And I’ll teach you how to make the perfect chocolate cake.”

  Amelia’s face brightens. “I love cake.”

  Those dimples appear again. “I’ll tell you a secret, so do I.”

  They smile at each other, and I’m a little shell shocked at how quickly this woman has charmed my daughter.

  “Can I tell you another secret?” Dina says to Amelia. “I was on a plane for ten hours, and I’m really tired. Do you know it’s nighttime where I live right now?”

  Amelia frowns. “But the sun is out.”

  “Not in Seattle. If you have a globe, I’ll show you. And then maybe you can show me to my room.”

  On her own, Amelia reaches for Dina’s hand. “Come on. And I’ll show you my room too. I’ve got hundreds of dolls. But I want one that has a shirt like yours.”

  Dina chuckles as she follows my daughter inside, and I’m left there standing like a fool with my mouth open, wondering what the bloody hell just happened.

  “She’s a different one,” Henry, my butler, says, placing the last of her bags on the steps, which are just as bright and colorful as her personality.

  “That she is,” I say, realizing it’s not Amelia I’m worried about.

  It’s myself.

  Chapter Two

  Dina

  Before Amelia gets a chance to show me everything in her bedroom, her father is at the door.

  “I’m sorry, but I really must be off to work. Can we go over a few things before I head out?”

  Amelia pouts. “Daddy, we were playing together!”

  Callum smirks. “You’ll have all day for that, love. But I have to get to Council before I’m late.”

  I stand from the plush carpeted floor where I’ve been kneeling as Amelia showed me her doll collection. “Why don’t you pick your two favorite dolls so later, when we go on a walk, we can each take one with us.”

  Amelia nods, accepting that solution and I follow Callum out of the bedroom and down the hall to his study.

  My stomach is a ball of butterflies. Not because of the new job or the new country. I’m nervous because my new boss is the handsomest man I’ve ever seen. Chiseled, defined, a strong jaw, a perfect smile, and a tailored suit that hugs him perfectly.

  I may be drooling. Just a bit.

  But anyone would. And he is an earl.

  I’m not a title chaser, obviously, I signed up to be a nanny, not a yacht girl. But here I am, a few feet from a man more powerful than any guy I’ve ever known.

  And he knows it. The silent strength he holds.

  “Here is a folder with everything you’ll need. Relatives, emergency contact numbers, the like. And here’s a credit card, for when you are out in the city.” He barely looks at me as he speaks.

  “Okay,” I say, rifling through the pages of the folder. “This looks pretty self-explanatory.

  “And here are the passwords, the house keys. The driver is just a phone call away. And the cook arrives each day at six AM, so Amelia just needs to be down for breakfast. And dinner is always at seven o’clock. I try to do family dinner every night, if I can’t for whatever reason, my secretary will phone you.”

  “Oh, okay,” I say feeling slightly more apprehensive. His life is a lot more complicated than my own father’s was.

  My dad owned a mechanic shop and worked nine to five, nothing more, nothing less.

  Callum closes the folder, adding, “And the housekeeper, Carol, lives in the garden cottage, just behind the house. So be sure to introduce yourself, she’s not usually that keen on getting to know the new nannies.”

  I frown. “Why is that?”

  Callum tenses, still not meeting my gaze. “The agency didn’t mention anything?”

  I shake my head. “Mention what?”

  He grimaces slightly. “Amelia is a—” Before he can finish, his daughter has rushed into the room.

  “I’m what, Daddy? What am I?”

  Callum exhales, catching his daughter as she runs into his arms. “A handful,” he tells her with a smile, but I see that it’s forced. He’s tired, this man, doing it all on his own.

  Amelia laughs. “I am a handful, aren’t I!”

  Callum puts his daughter on the ground and reaches for a briefcase. “I’m off, love,” he tells her. “Be nice to Dina.”

  Amelia nods, pulling on my hand. “Bye Daddy, we’re going to play!”

  I chance one last look behind me as I’m pulled from the room, and find Callum’s gaze on me. It’s hard, and dark, and filled with something that makes my heart speed up. But then he looks away, and Amelia is tugging me down the hall.

  The man is right, his daughter is a handful, it doesn’t take me long to figure that out. But I’m used to kids. Growing up in a large Portuguese family, my house was always overflowing with people. I have more cousins than I can count, and now they’re having babies of their own. I’ve been around every personality type; shy, strong-willed, rambunctious, quiet. Amelia isn’t anything I can’t handle.

  At least that’s what I think until we’re on our walk to the park, and we pop into a store. Once inside, she’s throwing a full out temper tantrum on me.

  “But I want that doll,” she screams, causing heads to turn in our direction. “Daddy would buy it for me.”

  “Your daddy isn’t here. And we only came into the store to get bread to feed the ducks, not to buy toys.”

  “But. I. Want. It.” Big tears fill her eyes, and I have a feeling she uses them a lot to get what she wants.

  “You have so many dolls already.” I nod to the two she’s carrying.

  She tosses the dolls to the ground, and cries, “I hate those dolls. I want that one.”

  I sigh, hating that we’re already getting off to a bad start after such a great morning.

  For a second I think about giving into her, but then I know it’ll only make her think she can walk all over me. We need to set boundaries right away, which is something I’m getting the idea she’s not used to.

  “The answer is no, Amelia.” I lean down to pick up her discarded dolls, and when I do, I see her little legs running away. “Shit,” I breathe out, then yell, “Amelia, stop.”

  She doesn’t, and I’m racing down aisles, searching for a little blonde head.

  Minutes go by, and I’m about ready to cry. I’m going to be fired on my first day for losing the child.

  “Excuse me, miss, are you looking for a little girl?” an elderly woman asks.

  “Yes. Have you seen her?”

  “She ran off to the park across the street.” She points her finger and I see through the large glass windows a child’s play area.

  “Thank you,” I tell her before dashing out of the store and across the busy street.

 
My stomach twists thinking of Amelia crossing it alone.

  I find her by the sound of her soft sobs. She’s wedged herself at the top of the slide, and I heave out a heavy breath as I climb up.

  She buries her face in her arms when she sees me. “You’re going to tell my daddy, and now I’m not going to go to the beach.”

  “You can not run off like that. Do you know how scared I was when I couldn’t find you? How scared Gigi and Pepper were?” I say, holding out her dolls.

  She looks up, and sniffles, but doesn’t take the dolls.

  “You could have been hurt, or someone could have taken you.” I keep my voice calm, despite the adrenaline that’s still racing through my veins.

  “But I really wanted the doll.”

  “I know. But sometimes we don’t get what we want. And sometimes we have to wait. What’s important is that we see what we already have and be thankful for it.”

  Her lips purse and I can tell she’s thinking over my words.

  “You know,” I say. “Sometimes when I was little like you, I used to get sad because other kids had nicer clothes and shoes than me. My dad, he worked so hard, just like yours, but as hard as he worked, he couldn’t always afford to buy me and my brothers new things. And I never had a doll as nice as these ones,” I say, handing her the doll she calls Pepper.

  “That’s sad,” Amelia says, sniffling, hugging Pepper to her chest.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” I smile down at the other doll and straighten her dress, then smile at Amelia. “On my birthdays, my dad would take me to the mall, and let me pick out one thing. Anything I wanted.”

  Amelia’s eyes widen. “What did you get?”