The Playboy Prince and the Nanny (Royal Duology 1)

“I hadn’t planned on it, sir.”

“I insist. You deserve a little fun, too. Have a glass of champagne.”

Now she was in a tight spot. She couldn’t very well refuse, could she? “I supposed I could pop down for a few minutes.”

“Good.” He gave her a nod and a smile.

She cleared her throat. “All right, let’s get these two packed off to bed, shall we? Come on Emilia, Max. Special stories tonight. And extra time with the toothbrush thanks to all that cake.”

Max made a face and they all laughed, and then Rose took them by the hand and left the room. But she felt Diego’s gaze on her back, and heard her promise to return echo in her head.

* * *

The dancing was in full swing by the time Rose entered the ballroom. She stayed to the perimeter, trying to remain inconspicuous, and found a place close to the wall where she could hear the music and watch the dancers beneath the chandeliers. She smiled a bit as she realized that the setting didn’t actually resemble what she’d imagined. No one was spinning around in a swirl of skirts to a waltz or anything so staid. Instead hips and feet were moving and shoulders shaking as they kept up with the band. The lights were dimmed and created a more intimate glow than there’d been at dinner, and the stage lights reflected off the crystals. Raoul was in his thirties, and many of his guests were just on either side of that number. The atmosphere was more like an exclusive club than a palace ballroom.

A footman she didn’t recognize came past with a tray of champagne. She selected one, took a sip, and sighed. One glass, a couple of songs, and she’d disappear. Still, this was one for the memory banks. Her friends back home wouldn’t believe it, would they? She smiled to herself. If nothing else, the last few months had been an adventure.

“You did come.”

Diego appeared at her side, his hair slightly damp from dancing, presumably. He’d taken off his tuxedo jacket, his bowtie was gone, and the top button of his blindingly white shirt was undone. He’d never looked so delicious, and the wicked glint of his eyes only fanned the flames. Why could she not resist him? Why did she react to every look, touch, sound of his voice?

“I said I would.” She ignored the flutters and lifted her glass. “Champagne. And the music is fabulous.”

“Look,” he said, pointing. “Even Raoul is dancing.”

Indeed he was. He was on the floor, dancing smoothly though still with a certain amount of reserve, Rose thought. And Stephani was his partner, looking thoroughly elegant in her Versace little black dress and her dark hair swept back in a neat updo.

“My goodness,” she said, laughing. “Now there’s something I didn’t expect to see.”

The song ended and the tempo slowed a bit. “Put your glass down and come on. You’re going to dance with me.” He reached for her free hand and gave it a tug.

She pulled back a little. “Oh, is that such a good idea?”

“Raoul’s dancing with Steph.”

“Yes, but there’s a difference in an executive assistant and the nanny, Diego. And I’m pretty sure they haven’t been carrying on in secret.”

“One dance.” His dark eyes pleaded with her. “Please.” He lowered his voice. “Por favor,mi corazón.”

Ah, yes. The language and accent that would make any woman swoon, and she was no exception. She couldn’t refuse when he spoke that way and looked at her with what she could only describe as bedroom eyes. She drank the rest of her champagne, put her glass on a table, and took his hand. “One,” she said firmly.

Trem

ors rippled through her stomach as she stepped onto the floor with him and he took her in his arms. She felt as if everyone was looking at them, but when she looked around it seemed no one was even paying attention. Her gaze darted up to his face and he smiled at her, tightening his fingers around her hand while his other palm rested firmly against the small of her back. “Relax,” he murmured, as he started to move his feet. “Just dance with me, Rosalie.”

She swallowed nervously, but managed to shuffle her feet a bit, until bit by bit she let go of the tension in her limbs and melted into the embrace. He guided her easily, expertly, his shoulder warm beneath her hand, the scent of his cologne magnified by the heat of his body.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, leaning close to her ear. With the music and crowd, she knew it was the only way she’d be able to hear him, but his close proximity added to the crazy awareness happening right now. “I’m crazy about you, Rose.”

“Oh, Diego.” She leaned back a little and looked into his face. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“It’s the truth. Since you came here, you’ve turned everything upside down. And in a good way, you see? I never thought I could feel like this. That I’d want to. But I do.”

The air she gulped into her lungs strained against her ribs. “Just dance with me, Diego. One dance. Then I have to go . . .”

He squeezed her hand. “Everything’s changed, can’t you feel it?”

Her heartbeat thudded with fear and anticipation. “Has it?” she asked, shaking her head. “I can’t keep sneaking around, and you heard Raoul tonight. The children . . . they need me. They have to come first.”