The Playboy Prince and the Nanny (Royal Duology 1)

She would not turn her hand over. She would not link her fingers with his, no matter how badly she wanted to.

But his thumb rubbed along the side of her hand, sending delicious tremors through her stomach. She needed to set boundaries like she had that night in the garden. She needed to remember that she was the nanny. They were not equals . . .

Except she’d just put them on a level playing field with her last sentence. They were both human, with feelings and needs and . . .

“Why,” he murmured, “do I find it so easy to open up to you?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered back. “We shouldn’t. It’s not proper . . .”

“I have never been, nor am I likely ever to be, proper,” he answered, and he did what she could not. He turned her hand over and twined his fingers with hers.

The tremors became full-on quaking as the tension shimmered between them. He was looking at her now, and she couldn’t look away from the intensity in his eyes. She caught her lip in her teeth as her nervousness peaked, and his gaze dropped to her mouth.

Oh, she thought to herself. Oh please. Don’t . . . but please do.

“Rosalie,” he whispered, her full name sounding like music on his lips.

He leaned closer, and she drifted in, unable to stop herself. Just one, she thought. Just one kiss. So I know what it’s like.

His lips were warm, soft, beguiling. Rose’s heart slammed against her ribs at the first contact, her breath squeezed in her lungs as she kissed him back, lightly, softly. As kisses went it was tentative, shy, sweet. And utterly, utterly devastating. Not what she would have expected from a playboy like Diego Navarro. It was better. Much, much better.

He shifted on the sofa, still holding her hand but moving closer. The kiss deepened, too, as anticipation waned and excitement took over. Gentle persuasion had her opening her lips, and the kiss blossomed until their breath came faster and Rose’s whole body felt sensitive to the smallest touch and sound.

“Rose, he whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth. “You’re so sweet. So . . .”

He never finished the sentence. Their mouths fused again, more urgent now, and when his hand pressed to the back of her head, controlling and guiding, she acquiesced. At this moment, the world didn’t exist outside this room.

Their lips parted, somewhat reluctantly, Rose thought, her heart still pounding. Diego moved his hand from her hair to her face, tracing his fingers down her cheek.

He was Diego Navarro, she realized, still dazed but aware enough to know that what had just happened was surreal at best and both unadvised and potentially jeopardizing to her employment.

He was a world-class playboy with loads of experience. She was a British nanny who’d had exactly one lover.

God, she was so outmatched.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “That shouldn’t have happened. We just . . . I just . . . got caught up in the emotion of the moment.” She slid out of his embrace. She’d been in his arms, her mind shouted at her. Kissing him. Hearing him say her name . . .

“Don’t back away,” he replied, grabbing at her hand before she could get away. “Please. You’re the only one who has ever understood. And don’t point out our differences,” he said, halting her contradiction before it could get out of her mouth.

“You have to know we can’t do this,” she said, slightly breathless. They absolutely couldn’t. If she lost this job . . . if they ended up in the tabloids or something she’d never be hired again, and people depended on her for so much. “If anyone found out . . .”

“I know. It’s a mess.” He went from running his hand over his hair to rubbing his face. “Why couldn’t you have been an heiress or aristocracy or something?”

She laughed a little. “Well, you can trace ancestors on my mum’s side back as far as King Charles the Second. Of course, that doesn’t say much for legitimacy . . .”

He rolled his eyes. “I know this is hard for you. And I don’t want to make it more difficult. I really don’t. And yet . . . being with you right now is the only thing that really makes sense. You see me, Rose.”

But he didn’t see her. Not really. He didn’t understand what drove her, what her fears were, what her longings were. He was, she realized, focused on the children’s needs, and focused on his own. But not focused on hers. And it wasn’t that he was wrong in those priorities. It just gave her a dollop of perspective and the realization that she had to protect herself as well.

“We can be friends,” she said firmly. “I think we’ve gone beyond the ‘strictly business’ distinction, despite my best efforts. But no more kissing, Diego. I can’t. Please don’t put me in that position.” No matter how desperately she’d like to be in that position—and others—with him. She couldn’t be that selfish. “This can’t be a palace affair.” She emphasized it with the one point she knew would hit home. “I can’t lose this job. Emilia and Max need stability and consistency.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Raoul has the final say in their care, Diego. You wouldn’t be able to stop it.”

He frowned. “I hate it when you’re right. And I hate it even more when it goes against what I want.”

She laughed. “That’s because you’re used to getting your own way. In some things, anyway,” she added, in deference to his earlier confidence.