“Eduardo explained that sometimes a boy needs to get out and blow off some steam,” Diego said. “And Maria, seeing everything had turned out okay, said she’d try to be more understanding in the future.”
Rose chuckled. It wasn’t too hard to imagine Diego as Eduardo.
“What’s ‘blow off some steam’?” Emilia asked, wrinkling her brow.
They picked up their picnic materials and began walking to the castle again. “Well,” Rose explained, “back when trains were first invented, they ran on steam. When the pressure in the boiler got to be too much, they’d have to let some out to release it before it blew up.” She ruffled Max’s hair. “Sometimes little boys—and girls—need to blow off some steam before they explode.”
“Miss Rosalie?” Emilia reached over to hold her hand and the girl looked up at Rose, her dark eyes shining. “You are very clever. I want to be smart like you.”
“Aw, thank you sweetheart.” She was touched by the compliment. “And if you study, and ask questions, and want to learn things, then you will be.”
“I’m smart,” Max said defensively.
“Indeed you are,” she replied. Diego hid a smile.
Together they got the children up to the nursery. Rose supervised hand and face washing and then took Max into the bedroom where he was to nap.
“I’m too old for naps,” he protested.
“Nonsense,” replied Diego. “Everyone likes a good siesta.”
“Not me.”
“Well, I do.” Diego sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll bet Rose is going to read you a story, too.”
Max was lying on the bed now, his lids growing heavy. “Don’t want Miss Rosalie. Want Tio Diego.”
She shrugged at looked at Diego. “You’re literate. I’m sure you can read a story or two.”
He laughed outright, and the sound made her feel all warm inside.
“Emilia and I are going to work on her letters and numbers for a while,” Rose said. She always looked forward to this part of the day. “If you read to Max, we can get started right away.”
“Por favor, Tio,” Max said, sitting up a bit, giving Diego the biggest set of puppy eyes Rose had ever seen.
“How can I resist this face?” Diego replied, grinning. “Pick out two stories, Max.”
Rose left the door open partway as she and Emilia went to the polished table where they did their lessons. She put out pencils, crayons, and stickers along with several worksheets of letters and numbers. Emilia’s printing was improving each day, and after a few practice sheets they’d work on a little spelling and maths.
Emilia had finished the whole alphabet and was in the midst of her numbers when Rose realized she hadn’t heard Diego’s deep voice in quite some time. She got up and went to the bedroom door and paused on the threshold, her heart melting just a little bit as she looked at the pair of them.
Diego was lying on the bed with Max, a forgotten storybook open between them. Max was curled into the much larger figure of his uncle, his head resting on Diego’s shoulder. Both were fast asleep.
That’s how it should be with their father, she thought. Oh, she understood that the demands of Raoul’s position were unique, but these kinds of moments were precious and few. Maybe Diego was right. Maybe he should speak to Raoul because, despite the Prince’s assurances on the first day, he really hadn’t been involved with his children much at all.
Unlike Diego. He’d been gone for two weeks, but in one afternoon he’d shown them fun, love, affection. He’d given them time and made them feel important.
Diego—renowned playboy, palace bad boy, and notorious womanizer—would actually make a very good father.
The world was just full of surprises.
CH
APTER FIVE
That afternoon set the pattern for the days ahead. Diego found himself increasingly busy between checking in at the stables and his office, and he had no trouble sleeping at night, except that he thought far too often of Rose just before nodding off.
On the day of his return, he’d awakened from the shared siesta after an hour, his shirt sticky from where Max’s head rested. Carefully he’d extricated himself from the awkward position and tiptoed out to the main room where Rose and Emilia were doing lessons.