The Playboy Prince and the Nanny (Royal Duology 1)

He nodded and staggered a bit, but she kept her arm around him to help him stay on his feet.

“It’s just that I miss her,” he said, the ‘s’ sound drawn out just the slightest bit in each word. Worse than the slur was the melancholy behind the words.

“Of course you do. But I do hope you’ll be happy again someday. You’re too young to be alone forever.” She gave him a little nudge. “Granted, you don’t have much to offer a lady, but you might be able to scratch up some woman willing to take you on.”

He stopped, stared at her a moment, and then chuckled. And the chuckle turned into a laugh, and she smiled widely. Teasing him had been a bit of a gamble, but it was good to see him smile.

“Thank you, Rose,” he said, sighing at the end of his laughter. He clumsily folded her into a hug. “I can see why Diego cares for you so much. Don’t worry about Father and me. It won’t be our first scandal and it certainly won’t be our last. It will just require a plan to ease things in, yes?” He stood back. “We should have a family meeting and decide how to proceed.”

Rose bit down on her lip, suddenly feeling overwhelmed again, particularly since Raoul was echoing Diego’s earlier thoughts. “Easing things in sounds okay,” she admitted. “It might save me from a panic attack or two.”

He smiled again and then leaned down and kissed her cheek. “And we will sort out the children, too. They’ll be delighted. They love their tio Diego.”

She linked her arm with his again. “Come, let’s get you inside. We both need our beauty rest.”

It didn’t take too long for them to reach the doors. “Are you all right now?” she asked, wanting to avoid being seen helping Raoul anywhere. Far better to be discreet.

“I can manage. You?”

“Oh, I’m right as rain, sir.”

She turned to leave when his voice stopped her. “Rose?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Thank you. For what you said. For being so good for our family.”

Happiness warmed her from head to toe. “It’s my pleasure. Truly.”

She left him there, knowing he’d be fine to make it back to his chambers.

And upstairs Diego waited for her. She wasn’t sure what she would say or do when she got there, but talking to Raoul had at least allayed her fears a little. The family would help them, and it would all be okay.

* * *

Diego slipped out of bed and let Rose sleep. It was only just after five; he could make it back to his room without being seen. They didn’t need to invite unnecessary gossip. But today, once the dust had settled, he would sit down with his father and brother and they’d come up with a plan. For now, she deserved some extra sleep.

As quietly as he could, he slipped on his trousers and white shirt, and grabbed his shoes and socks. He gave one last, tender look at the form sleeping beneath the cozy duvet. Her casual, black clothes were in a small heap on the floor. He’d awakened when she’d come back into the room, not realizing she’d ever left. And she’d quietly stripped and climbed back into bed with him, curling her soft, strong body next to his back, spoon-fashion. Her contented sigh had told him everything was all right, so he’d closed his eyes and they’d gone back to sleep.

The hall was dim and quiet as he pulled the door gently closed with a soft click of the latch. He met no one as he went back to his suite, and once inside he stripped and took a hot shower. The agenda for the day was a light one after the ball, and he dressed semi-casually—no jeans or T-shirts, but pressed trousers and a collared shirt rolled up at the elbows. His hair was still damp when there was a knock at his door.

Smiling, he wondered if Rose had heard him leave and come after him. He swung open the door and saw . . .

Stephani. With a very grim set to her lips and a frazzled look about her eyes.

“What’s going on? It’s not even six.”

“I got a call about an hour ago. Today’s paper. You can bet it’ll be in the tabloids as well.”

He stared down at the black-and-white image at the center of the newspaper she held out. A New Mother for the Prince and Princess? shouted the headline, and the photo showed Raoul, locked in an embrace with a woman wearing dark clothes and sporting a blond ponytail. In smaller print, beneath the picture, was a line that was even worse. Crown Prince shakes off mourning during birthday celebrations with unknown guest at the palace.

“It’s Rose,” he said numbly.

“It is?”

He nodded. “I’ll explain more when we’re all together. I take it father and Raoul have been shown this as well?”

“Your father has, and is going to be in his office in ten minutes. Raoul was harder to wake, and for the first time in my memory, he cursed at me.” Diego frowned and she amended, “Not at me, in particular. Just at the picture. Then he held his head as if it might fall off.”