The Playboy Prince and the Nanny (Royal Duology 1)

She was in way over her head, outmatched both sexually and in rank. At this moment she could choose to be swept away and then wake up with a pile of trouble in the morning, or she could put on the brakes and halt the mistake before it got any worse.

She knew what she wanted, and she knew what the right course of action was. Reluctantly she put her hands on his chest and pushed lightly, and turned her head a little to the side, breaking away from the kiss.

Diego was breathing heavily, but he didn’t push. Instead he rested his forehead against hers, and her heart stuttered a bit at the tender gesture.

“Lo siento,” he murmured. “Rose, I’m sorry.”

“I know what it means,” she replied. “And don’t be. We’ve both been wondering. Wanting. But we can’t, Diego.” She closed her eyes tight and wished it could be different. “We have never been equals. We never will be. Your family has been through enough. I won’t be the cause of another scandal or source of speculation.”

He backed away, but looked at her with tortured eyes. “You’re a better woman than I deserve,” he said, his voice low. “I know you are right. I just . . .” He stopped, frowned. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I should leave you to your wine and quiet time.”

As if she could possibly be calm and relaxed after what had just happened.

She slid to the side, and he reached for the doorknob again. The door was half-open and he was taking a step into the hall when she stopped him.

“Diego?”

He turned to face her. He was so handsome, she realized. In photos, the adjectives most often used were “sexy” and “hot.” But there was more depth to him than that. Handsome required some sort of depth, a gravitas that the tabloids never seemed to capture. “Yes?” he asked.

“Thank you for speaking to your brother. And for caring for the children so much. You are a very good uncle. A good man.”

He smiled, just a little. “And you like to look for the best in people, don’t you? I’m not that good a man, Rose. But I’d like to be.”

Before she could ask what he meant, he leaned forward and placed a little kiss on her forehead, then disappeared down the hall.

Rose shut the door and went back to her chair, picked up her wineglass, and took a long, restorative sip.

Here she thought the hardest thing about her new assignment would be dealing with pomp and protocol. That was a cakewalk compared to having feelings for one of the royal family. Ugh, she thought, taking another drink. It was all so cliché, wasn’t it? And of course it would be Diego, the resident playboy. She could just see the tabloids now: The Playboy and the Plaything. Her mother would have a fit.

The problem was that they were more than labels; they were people with real thoughts and feelings. Yes, he was a prince. And she was definitely the nanny. But they were also a man and a woman.

A man and a woman who seemed to understand each other more than they should. Who liked each other more than they should. Their kisses were really just a physical manifestation of a much larger problem: she cared about him, respected him, admired him. A lot. And the wise move would be to resign her post now and find another assignment through the agency.

“Miss Rose?”

A little voice came from the door connecting her suite with the nursery. Max stood in the doorway, his thumb in his mouth and his dark hair tousled.

She put her glass aside and patted her knee. “What is it, Max? Can’t you sleep, darling?”

He came over and crawled up in her lap. She saw traces of tears on his face and he was still shaking a little. “Bad dream?” she asked, her heart melting as he snuggled in close.

He nodded.

“Want to tell me about it?”

He shook his head, and she wouldn’t press. If he didn’t have dreams after the accident and all he’d been through, she would have been shocked. Instead she held him close and rubbed his back reassuringly. “You’re safe now, Max. It’s okay. I’m here.”

He took his thumb out of his mouth for a moment; she knew he sucked on it only when he was particularly upset. To her surprise he sat up a bit and placed a kiss on her cheek before settling down into her lap again, his head resting in the curve of her neck.

Each time she took an assignment, she developed an attachment to the child. But this was different. Maybe it was why she was needed here that made it so. They’d been through a lot, and under a microscope, too.

“Te amo, Miss Rose,” Max whispered.

She cuddled him close. “I love you too, Max.”

Moments later he was asleep, his warm head sticky against her neck. She waited a while before gingerly rising from the chair, trying to keep him still as she made her way back to his bedroom. Once there, she tucked him into bed and drew the soft sheets up around his shoulders.

Earlier she’d considered resigning. She couldn’t do that, though. The children needed her; needed stability and affection and consistency. Her resigning would be one more person leaving them behind. She’d stay until they no longer needed her, or until someone told her to leave.