The Playboy Prince and the Nanny (Royal Duology 1)

Emilia’s little head had been bent over her work, and Rose was watching, a smile of encouragement on her face as Emilia printed and spelled aloud as she went. They hadn’t seen him yet, and he let the scene before him sink into his memory. She cared about the children. He’d hoped that whoever they hired would, of course, but with Rose it was genuine affection. Her honey-gold hair was twisted up into a knot at the back of her head, and her ivory complexion had already mellowed a little from the Mediterranean sun, giving her a glow. She’d relaxed from her plain black trousers and white blouses too, opting for softer, pale linens in deference to the heat.

She was beautiful. She was damn near perfect. And that scared the hell out of him almost as much as it drew him to her.

“Very good,” she praised softly, and Emilia looked up at her with something akin to hero worship.

Max was asleep, Emilia was studying, and both were happy. He wasn’t a fool; he knew it was because they were getting attention, and the good kind of attention. What children needed were two parents. In the absence of that, they were getting Rose and Diego as substitutions for the real thing.

In that moment he promised himself that as long as he was needed, he’d be there for the children.

The first thing he’d done was go to Raoul and make his case. Raoul had dark circles beneath his eyes and he’d been short with Diego, firing back that a bachelor who was rarely at home had no business telling him how to raise his children. It was no less than Diego had expected. He stopped at Raoul’s secretary’s desk on the way out. “Stephani, is he getting any sleep?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, frowning. “He won’t talk to me either. I know I’m just his assistant . . .”

“You’re more than that. He trusts you. We both need to keep trying, I guess.”

Her dark eyes met Diego’s. “I hate seeing him so unhappy.”

“If you ever have any concerns, come to me, will you?”

“Of course.”

That day, and every day since, he’d crammed his working hours into the morning and spent his afternoons with the children. The trip to Argentina had been very profitable for the stables, and several deals were in progress that would see new additions to their polo stock as well as the sale of breeding rights. Being able to claim connection to the royal bloodline was a big thing for many breeders.

In the evenings he worked until dinner on business involving his charities, and then after dinner he sometimes worked until nearly midnight if something was pressing and couldn’t wait. Each morning he had a to-do list for his assistant, Camila, to carry out while he was involved in his day.

But today he was playing hooky. The children had been fussing more and more about being bored and not getting out of the palace as they used to.

Ceci had been gone two months. As far as Diego knew, the kids hadn’t left the palace grounds in all that time. Ceci had taken them places quite often. Of course they missed it.

So he’d arranged a car and proper security, and they were going into the city for lunch and some shopping. Max wanted toys. Emilia wanted everything. The day was sunny and perfect for this sort of an outing.

They were dressed and waiting for him just past noon when he came to get them at the nursery. Rose had dressed them appropriately, in casual but spotless and pressed clothing. She was looking very pretty too, he realized. Her dress was a floral print on an ivory background, with a wide belt at her small waist and ivory flats on her feet—sensible, he thought, for the walking they’d be doing. A wide-brimmed hat hung from her fingers, along the side of her thigh. There was an innocence about her that filled him with a sense of goodness.

“Are we ready?” he asked, clapping his hands together.

Max ran up and pulled on Diego’s hand. “Let’s go! I’m hungry.”

They were laughing as they piled into the waiting car, the driver shutting the door behind them. It wasn’t until Rose was buckling them into their seats that the atmosphere suddenly got quiet. He looked at Max and saw the boy’s eyes were wide. A glance at Emilia showed her blinking rather quickly. Rose noticed too, and when she turned to Diego for help, he gave a small shake of his head.

“Okay, what do you want to eat? I think we should eat as soon as we get there.” Diego forced a note of cheerfulness, hoping to distract the children from what he suspected was a very bad memory.

Emilia shrugged.

“Come on, you two. You must have some favorites,” Rose nudged.

Diego wasn’t sure if she’d figured out why they were suddenly so silent, but she leaned forward and smiled at them, trying again. “I don’t know what I’d like,” she said. “The food here is very different. Perhaps the two of you will help me decide.”

Max mumbled something.

“I’m sorry?” She peered into his face. “I didn’t quite catch that, Max.”

“He said churros,” Emilia replied. “They’re fried and have cinnamon on them.”

“That’s for dessert,” Diego said, as the driver negotiated the way down the lane toward the gates and then the street.

“At school, we sometimes had ‘Backwards Dinner,’” Rose said, smiling a little. “Forks on the right. Knives on the left. And dessert first.” She wiggled her eyebrows, coaxing a smile out of Max.

“May we really have dessert first, Miss Rose?” Emilia asked, her eyes lighting up.