The Playboy Prince and the Nanny (Royal Duology 1)

ismissed as unimportant and in the way.

It was a sad statement that he, at thirty, could understand exactly how that felt.

There was a movement below, and he squinted to make out the form walking in the shadows along the path among the shrubbery. A woman, he realized. Not just any woman, but her. Miss Walters. Except he found it impossible to think of her that way. She still wore the black trousers and white shirt of what he supposed was her “uniform.” He hoped she wore other outfits as well. The black and white was somewhat . . . boring. Despite all that, there was something about her that was beautifully simple. “Rose” suited her perfectly.

He watched as she ambled through the winding paths, finally stopping by a fountain that spilled its water with a steady burble. The moonlight shone off her light hair, no longer twisted up in a bun but flowing loosely around her shoulders. Rose reached into her pocket and took something out. He watched as she flicked her thumb and a tiny splash bubbled into the pool. Diego smiled then, loving that she had a little bit of whimsy about her. Had she made a wish before tossing the coin? And what would a woman like Rose wish for?

He shouldn’t go down there. He should just leave the balcony and head to his apartment and pretend he hadn’t seen her. But when did he ever do what he should? He went inside, along the silent corridor, and down the stairs, his shoes tapping on the stone steps as he let himself out onto the grounds at the back of the palace. The least he could do is thank her for today and see how the evening had gone with the children.

She didn’t hear him until he was nearly upon her. When she turned her head and saw him standing there, she jumped a little and put her hand to her chest. He grinned. “The sound of the water, I guess.” At her puzzled expression, he elaborated. “The reason you didn’t hear me.”

“Ah.” She frowned a little. “Are you sure it’s wise for you to be out here, sir?”

That “sir” business again. He shrugged easily. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m pretty sure it’s safe enough.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She bit down on her lip, and he watched as her teeth changed the shape of the soft, pink flesh. Awareness flickered between them, and he knew what she’d implied even without her having to explain.

“Is it wise for you to be out here, Rose?”

Her eyes widened at his use of her first name.

“I’m sorry. I should go in. It’s late and tomorrow’s a busy day . . .”

She jumped up from the stone ledge of the fountain, but he reached out and grabbed her arm to keep her from running away.

Damn. She lurched to a halt and looked up at him, and his lungs felt as if they were squeezing together. Her chest rose and fell with quick breaths, and he could see the same uncertainty in her eyes as he was feeling inside. It was the damnedest thing. Maybe it was her position within the household. She wasn’t a girl at a club or some aristocrat’s daughter. He knew how to deal with those kinds of women. Rose was different somehow. Diego was used to games that he was certain she didn’t know how to play.

“Not to be impertinent, sir,” she said breathlessly, “but you’ve kept rather close all day. And it’s probably not appropriate for either of us. I’m the nanny. You’re a prince. I’m the help, Dieg—Sir.”

But he caught the slip. “You were going to call me by my name.”

“Yes, I was. And that would be really inappropriate. I appreciate all your help today, I do. But it’s . . . it’s not right that you’re so . . . so . . .”

She was stuttering. And it wasn’t because she was cold in the balmy night air, and it wasn’t because she was afraid. It was because she was mere inches away. So close it would take hardly anything for him to pull her against him. He was no stranger to instant attraction, but this threw him for a bit of a loop.

“If I let you go, do you promise not to run away?”

Her gaze blazed into his. “Don’t you understand? All it takes is for you to order me to stay.”

He released her arm, hating that she’d played the power card. He would never use his rank in that way. “I’m not ordering. I wouldn’t do that. I’m asking.”

She remained where she was, but he knew that she could be gone in a flash. He knew that she should be, for that matter.

And yet she stayed.

“Tell me about yourself,” he suggested.

She tilted her head to the side, just a bit. It was amazing how she could point out their difference in circumstance in one breath and challenge him in the next, without even trying.

“You read my CV. And I’m sure you spoke to the agency about me. You already know the facts.”

He was equally amused and frustrated. “They told me about Miss Rosalie Walters, Nanny,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I want to know about Rose, the person.”

“Why? Begging your pardon, sir.” He saw her swallow and a flash of uncertainty flitted across her face. “What does my personal life have to do with my job?”

She was utterly right. What difference did it make who she was other than the nanny? It wasn’t like he got up close and personal with any of the other staff. There were boundaries. Boundaries he hadn’t crossed since he’d been . . . oh, about nineteen, if memory served.

He looked at her for a long moment. She met his eyes directly, but not with any antagonism. She was, he realized, the most serene woman he’d ever encountered. She didn’t shy away from tough topics and she’d had an answer for every question and a solution for every problem today. Unflappable, that’s what she was. And he liked it. So much of the household had been in chaos for the last month. Unflappable was hugely appreciated.