The Playboy Prince and the Nanny (Royal Duology 1)

Six hours later she rose and showered and dressed for the day. She went to the kitchens to eat and then saw to the preparation of Emilia and Max’s morning meal. When that was done she went back upstairs and started them on a morning routine that they’d follow most days. It wasn’t until one o’clock, when the midday meal was served, that Rose learned that Diego had left that morning for Paris.

She’d been right about him after all.

* * *

Rose couldn’t remember a more pleasant job.

She’d been in Marazur for two weeks now, and for the third day in a row she sat in the garden on a blanket, watching the children as they kicked a ball around after their al fresco lunch. The weather was stunning, the summer heat softened by the breeze from the sea that swept over the island. Perfect for picnics and play. She smiled as the duo ran along the level stretch of lush grass. Emilia had long, thick curls, and Rose had plaited it in a Dutch braid, which was Emilia’s favorite. Both children wore ordinary-looking, but fine-quality clothing—shorts, T-shirts, and trainers.

Raoul seemed determined that his children have “normal” childhoods, and it wasn’t just in their casual dress. Other than a television and a DVD player in the nursery, there was a distinct lack of electronic devices at their disposal. Instead they were encouraged to play, and each morning after breakfast they worked on lessons, at their father’s orders.

The schedule suited her just fine, she mused, plopping a berry into her mouth. Max had a hard time sitting still, but the playroom was full of things to keep him busy. At his age, “school” consisted of blocks, creative projects that worked on his fine motor skills, early math manipulatives, and lots of storybooks. With Emilia, things were a bit more structured. Before long, Rose figured a tutor would be brought in to see to the children’s education. For now, Rose followed the curriculum that Mariana had been teaching.

The best part? The children reciprocated by helping her wi

th her Spanish, which was more than a bit rusty.

She sat cross-legged on the blanket, and watched as Max kicked the ball past Emilia and between the orange markers they’d arranged as goal posts. As he jumped and put his arms in the air, Rose laughed. He was all boy, but he was a sweetheart, too. Emilia looked over and tried a crinkly sort of wink—she’d let the goal in on purpose, Rose knew. The siblings were close, which was nice. She supposed that was because they had to rely on each other.

Rose took a sip of water as Emilia and Max switched places, and she thought about her own family. She and Devon and Hayley were close now, but it hadn’t always been that way. She’d been twenty and nearly through her schooling when Hayley had gotten pregnant. Devon, as the oldest, had been hard on Hayley, especially as he was new to his parish and very conscious of appearances. And Hayley had assumed that Rose would be a nanny to her baby when she was born. When Rose had said no, everything had blown up. The tight-knit family had unraveled, and Rose was still hoping they could be stitched back together again.

She sighed. Those hadn’t been the most pleasant years. And things were still strained between her and her sister. It was hard to put the pieces back together when they were now so spread out and disconnected. Diego wasn’t the only one who felt lonely now and again.

“If this isn’t a sight.”

Before she even turned her head, she knew it was him. The voice was warm and soft, with just the hint of an accent. She schooled her features and turned to see him striding across the grass, casually dressed in khaki shorts and a T-shirt. The cotton stretched across broad shoulders. Wow, she thought, but kept her mouth firmly shut.

He approached the kids first. “Ah, mi rayito de sol,” he announced, picking Emilia up and giving her a bear hug. “Como estas?”

The response was a rapid fire of Spanish that Rose couldn’t keep up with. With a hearty laugh, Diego put Emilia back on the ground and reached for Max. Max, with a devilish twinkle in his eye, began to run away, his giggles filling the garden with childish joy. Rose watched as Diego, his smile wide, raced after him, caught him under his arm, and proceeded to hang him upside down by his feet.

“No, no!” shouted Max, giggling and gasping the whole time. “Tio Diego! No!” The giggling turned to full-on belly laughs, and Rose found herself grinning.

“Diego, really,” she commented dryly, but inside she knew this was exactly what Max needed and was grateful to Diego for providing it. While Emilia was more than happy to be active and play outside and get into her share of dirt, Rose knew it wasn’t the same as having “guy time.”

And it wasn’t like Raoul would be out here in a pair of shorts, horsing around. She understood he had duties, but he’d hardly seen the children. She was lucky if he popped in once a day to say hello. She’d been both surprised and disappointed by that, particularly after what he’d said the first day. Now Diego was here, laughing, playing, bringing his incredible energy to their picnic. Not just energy . . . love. He genuinely loved these children, which made it hard for her to remain annoyed at him for leaving. He kept surprising her, and she suspected that beneath all the obvious charm there was a warm, generous heart.

Diego put Max down, made sure he was steady on his feet, and then stood. “It’s good to see them out playing,” he said to Rose, coming over to the blanket and plopping down in a most unceremonious manner.

It was like that night in the garden had never happened. Rose looked at him for a moment, trying to puzzle him out. “You know,” she said, a contemplative note in her voice, “you’re rather like the Cheshire Cat. You appear, and then you disappear. You appear . . .”

He laughed. “I know. And then I disappear.”

“You’ve got the same grin, too,” she pointed out, her lips twitching.

“Alice in Wonderland,” he mused, making a humming sound. “Haven’t read that since I was in short pants.” He looked down at his bare knees. “Oops.”

She did laugh then, she couldn’t help it. “We’ve been reading it at night,” she said. “I started them with The Wind in the Willows. It was my favorite when I was little. And then Emilia picked out Alice. I’m not sure what we’re going to read next.”

“It’s wonderful that you’re reading to them,” he said, resting on his elbows. Looking far too comfortable for her liking. And far too alluring.

“Of course I am. It’s my job, but even so, I’ve always loved reading to children before bed.”

“It’s very Mary Poppins.”

“Book or movie?”

He looked over at her. Goodness, he had stunning eyes, and it was unfair that a man have lashes that lush and dark. “Movie. Ceci made us all watch it when the anniversary edition came out a few years ago.” He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a few hours I won’t get back.”