“I don’t know,” she answered. “It’s not you. It’s that . . . I don’t believe something like this could happen to someone like me. I don’t trust it. It’s too surreal.”
“And yet here we are. And you don’t have to trust it. You just have to trust me. Can you?”
Her heart stuttered. “I want to,” she admitted. “And that scares me.”
“Because of our differences.”
“Because I’m not princess material. I’m the help. Even Cec
ilia . . . she was from a wealthy family, was she not? She fit into this world nicely. I’d simply be awkward and always worried about doing the wrong thing. Saying the wrong thing.”
“Don’t be silly. You’ve been working for the upper class for years and have more class in your little finger than most women do in their whole body. This almost sounds like reverse snobbery, Rosalie Walters.” He lifted his brows, challenging her.
She held out her glass and he drained the last few drops of the champagne into it. If she was going to confide in him at all, she needed a touch more liquid courage.
“And what would people say if they knew my background?” She drank deeply, ran her tongue over her lips, and savored the last taste. “I’m from a working-class family. My address isn’t in the swanky part of town. My brother is a vicar, and he and his wife barely make ends meet. Then there’s my sister . . .”
“What about her?” Diego leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee.
“She had a baby when she was still in school. The father took off and left her alone, and she thought that I should be her nanny, considering I had all the training. When I said no, that I was signing on with an agency, she was furious.” More than furious, Rose remembered. She’d said all kinds of hurtful things. “She said that I’d never find a man of my own to give me babies so I was going to look after someone else’s. And that I wouldn’t look after hers because I was jealous because at least someone had wanted her. The press could easily dig that up and make a case about Hayley’s sour grapes. It’s better for everyone if I stay in the background.” It hurt her deeply to say it, but it was the truth.
She swallowed against the bitter taste in her mouth. Hayley knew how to be vicious. Rose had always been a bit of a wallflower. She’d had a few brief relationships in university but no one, ever, had fallen head over heels in love with her. Hayley’s words hit a sore spot because they’d felt true.
All the same, Rose loved her work. It was incredibly fulfilling.
“So you don’t have a good relationship,” Diego said, frowning a little. “Is that really a problem?”
“We get along better now. But she’s young, and trying to make ends meet in London. I send what I can so that they . . . so they have enough. And I try to spend some quality time with Alice when I’m in the city. But Diego, don’t you see? If you want to stay out of the rags, dating someone like me isn’t the way to do it. The press is sure to dig up stuff on my family and our working-class roots.” Her heart sank as she realized her faith in her sister wasn’t that strong. “And despite getting along better, I wouldn’t put it past Hayley to make the most of it, either. I have a freedom that she doesn’t. And even though she loves me, she resents that. As much as I hate to say it, I know she could be bought.”
Diego reached over and took her hand in his. His fingers were strong and warm, and he rubbed his thumb over her wrist.
“The thing about the tabloids is that they’ll write stories anyway, whether they have a basis in fact or not. So no matter who I date, there’s a certain level of damage control to be done. And Rose? I’m finished letting the paparazzi dictate my life. I decided that the moment I saw the news of the car wreck on the pub TV screen. There were camera flashes going the whole time, using our tragedy for their profit. My life decisions are not going to be made based on what the press might say. And they certainly won’t keep me from being happy. Life is too short.” He held her gaze. “Too precious.”
Nothing he’d said was as comforting as his last words. There was a strength and integrity to them that she appreciated, and they showed her once more who the real Diego was. He was a strong, behind-the-scenes man who put family first, with a definite romantic side. How could she be immune to that, particularly when he didn’t seem to care one bit about her background?
“I’m glad to hear it,” she answered, relaxing a little.
“Rose, I want to be with you. Is that so bad?”
“Of course not.”
“Then let’s see how it goes, shall we?”
“And what if it doesn’t work out, Diego? What then?” She wasn’t sure how she’d feel about working at the palace, having Diego coming and going, and not hers. Not . . . friends.
He twined his fingers with hers. “Then I will do what I’ve been threatening to do for a long time, and set up my office elsewhere. Outside the palace.” His gaze searched hers. “Before you arrived, I was hardly ever here. I never had a reason to stay.”
“The children . . .”
“They had Ceci and Mariana, and their father. And once you arrived, I didn’t need to be here anymore. But I am. And it’s because of you, Rose.”
He was very good at giving speeches, and at making her all mushy and sappy. “It strikes me as surreal every day. Like I’m going to wake up and find that I’ve only imagined that you really care for me. That this is really happening. But it’s real. And I’m scared, Diego. The idea of this working out is too huge to comprehend. And the idea that it won’t hurts my heart.”
“Then don’t think about that. Just think about this.”
He stood and tugged at her hand, pulling her into his arms. She expected him to kiss her, but he didn’t. He just folded her into his arms and held her close.
And in that moment, with her face against the crisp fabric of his shirt, the scent of him filling her nostrils, and the warmth of his arms around her body, she felt herself fall into love for the first time in her life.