The Playboy Prince and the Nanny (Royal Duology 1)

He might not be the stern man that his brother was, but he wasn’t a pushover, either.

They turned up the drive to the palace.

Marco pulled around back to the servant’s entrance by the kitchen. Rose didn’t speak and neither did Diego. When Marco opened her door, she scooted out and took her bag with her.

Marco shut the door and got back in behind the wheel. Any other day, Diego might have gotten out with her. Walked her inside. Stopped in the kitchen for a piece of cake or a taste of whatever Senora Ortiz was cooking. But not today. He was annoyed. Supremely annoyed. At her for being so . . . incorrigible. And at himself for caring so damn much.

It was more than inconvenient. It was becoming a problem.

Marco drove around to the front of the house again, put the car in park, and opened Diego’s door. “Sir,” he said quietly.

“Thank you, Marco,” Diego said quietly. “For all you did today.”

“It’s my job, Your Highness.”

Diego smiled then. “And you do it well. You look after us all.”

“Not all of us,” Marco said quietly.

Marco had come out of the limo accident with only scratches and bruises. But he’d have to live with the scene for the rest of his life, and Diego had temporarily forgotten.

“All of us,” Diego affirmed as he placed his hand on the man’s shoulder.

He went inside and straight to his office. Not to the nursery, not to her room, not to the kitchens. He needed to calm down and figure out exactly what he was feeling. Thinking. And to do that, he needed to focus on something else for a little while.

Anything else.

* * *

Rose slammed her bag down on the chair in her suite and put her hands on her hips. He’d had her followed. Followed! She’d thought she’d been enjoying a quiet day alone, and the whole time she’d been watched.

It made her feel odd. And a little creeped out.

And now her wallet was missing. She’d only had twenty or thirty euros left anyway, so that was no big loss. She retrieved the rest of her cards and called the number on the back of one, in order to cancel the stolen one before any charges could be made on it.

When she hung up, she was slightly calmer, but not much. It wasn’t so much that he’d made sure she had security, but that he hadn’t told her about it. To make matters worse, when she’d looked up and saw him crossing the sand, she’d felt . . . rescued.

For God’s sake. Rescued. How pathetic was that? She was fully capable of looking after herself. She’d already realized she should leave the beach and would have done so if he hadn’t rushed in to save the day.

Rose went into her bathroom, and the face that stared back at her in the mirror gave her a start. Her hair was a mess of tangles, and her skin . . . oh, her skin. It was pink, all except for around her eyes, where she’d worn her sunglasses. Her arms too. Diego hadn’t been kidding about her pale English skin. It hadn’t been ready for the brashness of the Mediterranean sun. She put her palm against her upper arm; it was hot to the touch.

She stared in the mirror again and saw her lip wobble. What the heck?

She had nothing to cry about. She had a great job with wonderful children, and for the most part it was enjoyable and not difficult. So she’d had a not-so-great ending to an otherwise great day . . . big deal. Except . . .

She sniffed. Except she’d been delivered to the servant’s entrance and Diego hadn’t even said goodbye. He’d driven away, leaving her standing there, angry and unsure. It had been a very deliberate snub. And she had no reason to be mad about it, because she’d been the one to point out that simple nannies didn’t require personal security. She was the one who kept pointing out the difference in their stations.

As she stared at her disheveled reflection, she was at least honest with herself: she kept pointing it out so she didn’t have to deal with the real issue. She was falling for Diego. Not in an “I’ve got a crush” sort of way, but with a deep affection and respect. And longing. When he’d come striding through the sand this afternoon, her heart had leapt, glad to see him in her time of trouble. He’d brought with him a surety that everything would be all right.

That he’d take care of her.

Her, who’d never really needed taking care of before. Who usually ended up taking care of everyone else.

She could love him very easily.

But he was not for her. Not in a million years.

She bit down on her lip to stop the tremble and turned on her shower. Some cool water and perspective was needed here.