The Prince's Royal Dilemma Page 2

  It took less time than he expected.

  Only a few days after his brother had left to return to university, a new picture of the royal nanny was on the front page of the paper. This time she was on the beach, wearing nothing more than three tiny scraps of material that might have been a bikini.

  She’d obviously been in the water, and her puckered nipples were clearly outlined by the clingy fabric. Her glossy lips were curved in a smile of mischief as her outstretched arms beckoned to someone beyond the frame of the picture.

  The punch of lust came first—a deep ache that throbbed low in his belly and heated his blood. Mi Dios. She was so stunning, sensual, sexy. And he was a man, as weak and susceptible to temptation as any other.

  But as a man who was also a prince, he had to hold himself to a higher standard. He had to be both selective and discreet in his personal relationships, and he especially had to rein in the primal instincts to claim and take that churned in his blood when he looked at that picture.

  He shoved the paper aside.

  He could curse himself for wanting her, but he couldn’t deny that he did. As he couldn’t deny that the obvious solution to his dilemma was to remove the source of his temptation.

  While Lexi and Damon were playing in the garden, Lara was gathering their buckets and shovels for a promised trip down to the beach. Lexi hadn’t been thrilled with the plan, but she hadn’t protested too vehemently. Lara took that as a good sign. The little girl had been terrified of the water since learning that her parents had drowned, and she knew it would take time and patience to help her get beyond that fear.

  On Saturday, before he’d had to leave to go back to law school, Marcus had gone down to the sea with them. Whether he was more in tune with the needs of his niece and nephews than the prince regent or just had more time on his hands, she appreciated his efforts to interact with the children.

  And with her uncle’s encouragement, Lexi had ventured close enough to the water to dip her bucket and fill the moat around her sand castle. Just the first step, but an important one. When Lara waded into the shallows and got soaked by an unexpected wave, the sound of Damon’s and Lexi’s exuberant giggles joining with Marcus’s hearty laughter was like beautiful music to her ears.

  Her only regret was that Christian hadn’t been there, but maybe she could entice him to join them today. He’d shown little enjoyment in anything since his parents had been killed, and she thought it would be good for all of them to spend a few hours on the beach together.

  The request to attend the prince regent’s office threatened to put a crimp in Lara’s plans, as well as unleashing a swarm of hyperactive butterflies in her tummy.

  His Highness had never summoned her to his office before. Then again, he’d never had any reason to deal directly with her before. In fact, whenever he’d visited from London, he seemed to go out of his way to avoid her. Though he was too well-bred to express his disapproval in her presence, she knew Rowan had questioned his brother’s decision to hire her to care for his children.

  Four and a half years later, she had no reason to believe that his attitude toward her had changed, and though she hadn’t worried about his opinion too much when Julian and Catherine were alive, their deaths changed everything. Rowan was in charge now—of the country that she’d grown so fond of, the palace that had become her home and the children whom she loved more than she’d ever imagined possible.

  And because he was in charge, she worried what this summons to his office could mean.

  She rubbed suddenly damp palms down the front of her shorts. Lionel, Rowan’s personal secretary, turned on his heel and disappeared, obviously trusting that she understood the import of his message.

  She did, of course, but the children were a different matter.

  “Where are you going?” Damon demanded, wrapping his arms around one of her legs in a desperate attempt to keep her from leaving.

  She brushed a hand over his soft, unruly curls and responded, “I’m going to see the prince regent.”

  His little brow furrowed. “Who’s that?”

  She smiled. “Your uncle Rowan.”

  “Oh.” He still didn’t relinquish his hold on her leg.

  “But you said we were going to the beach,” Lexi said.

  “And hopefully we’ll still have time to do that when I get back.”

  “I want to go now,” Damon said, somehow making the statement sound like a royal command.

  She had to smile. It was unlikely that Julian and Catherine’s youngest son would ever have the responsibility of ruling his country, but she didn’t doubt that he would be able to do so. The arrogance and charm he already exhibited were as much a part of his Santiago heritage as his blue blood and dark curls.

  “Unfortunately, Prince Damon, it’s the prince regent who makes the rules now and I really can’t keep him waiting.”

  Damon’s eyes filled. “I liked it better when Daddy made the rules, when Daddy and Mommy were here.”

  She dropped to her knees on the ground beside the little boy and took him in her arms. “I know you did, honey. And I know you miss them both so much.”

  “I miss them, too,” Lexi said, and threw her arms around Lara’s neck.

  She had to blink away the tears that filled her own eyes as she hugged the young prince and princess. “You need to remember that though your daddy and mommy are gone, they will live forever in your hearts.”

  “I don’t want them to live in my heart,” Lexi said stubbornly.

  “Me, neither,” Damon agreed. “I want them to live in the palace.”

  It was easier for her to ignore a royal summons than the children’s grief, and more than half an hour had passed by the time she got them settled in the nursery with some books and puzzles and knocked on the door of the prince regent’s office.

  He was annoyed. That much was obvious to Lara by the cool, clipped “Enter” that answered her knock before she even stepped foot inside the room. Her impression was confirmed by the grim set of his mouth and the hard stare of his dark brown eyes.

  She immediately dropped into a curtsy—a ridiculous and archaic formality, she thought, made even more ridiculous by the fact that she was still wearing the old shorts and faded T-shirt she’d put on to play with the children. Julian and Catherine had both insisted that she abandon such formalities when they were behind closed doors, but Rowan had given no indication that he would tolerate bending the rules. More likely, he’d see it as a breach of protocol and reprimand her for it.

  “You wished to see me, Your Highness?”

  “A while ago.” His gaze raked over her. “Obviously, you weren’t using the time to make yourself more presentable.”

  She forced herself to remain silent and ignore the flutters deep in her belly. From their very first meeting, she’d been nervous around Prince Rowan—much more so than she was around any of his brothers. Part of it, she knew, was self-consciousness because of his evident disapproval. Another part, though she’d never admit it to anyone else, was that she’d fallen head over heels in lust with the solemn, scowling prince the first time she’d laid eyes on him.

  It wasn’t logical and it certainly wasn’t smart, but there was just something about the man that stirred her blood. She didn’t know why she responded that way to Rowan and not any of his brothers, but she did. Despite her imaginative fantasies, she knew he would never see her as anything other than the children’s nanny and a poor choice of one, at that.

  And she feared that the background that hadn’t caused Julian or Catherine to raise an eyebrow wouldn’t be so readily accepted by the prince regent—if he were made aware of it.

  “You have a leaf in your hair.” His curt statement drew her attention back to the present.

  “Oh.” She felt her cheeks flush as she reached up, found the offending piece of foliage and quickly crumpled it in her fist. “I came directly from the garden.”

  “But not immediately.”

  “No,” she ackno
wledged. “Princess Alexandria and Prince Damon were distressed, and I didn’t want to leave them in such a state.”

  “When you are summoned to my office, your wants are irrelevant.”

  She might have a crush on the prince, but she wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he could be a royal ass at times. It seemed that this was one of those times. As the flutters in her belly became knots of apprehension, she forced herself to take a deep breath and mentally count to ten before she responded. “I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but I was under the impression that it was my job to care for the children, and that is what I was doing.”

  “And what were you doing when this picture was taken?” he demanded, tossing a newspaper down on the top of his desk.

  Lara’s gaze dropped, her annoyance giving way to shocked embarrassment, then fury. “I was on private property,” she told him. “I don’t know how this could have been taken.”

  “There’s no such thing as privacy beyond the gates of this estate,” he reminded her. “You should have learned that long before now.”

  It would be smart, she knew, to keep her eyes down, fold her hands together and apologize for her obvious error in judgment. But she hadn’t done anything wrong, and her pride refused to let her beg for his forgiveness.

  “Instead, you’re again on the front page, looking like you belong in a centerfold.”

  Though her face was hot with a combination of embarrassment and anger, she managed to respond evenly. “I’m flattered you think so.”

  His dark eyes narrowed on her. “If you think I’m amused by this, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  “On the contrary, I wouldn’t think you’re amused by anything, Your Highness.”

  “Certainly not, less than three weeks after the deaths of the Prince and Princess of Tesoro del Mar, a picture of their nanny—” he slapped his hand down on the paper “—cavorting on the beach.”

  “Cavorting?” she challenged.

  “Is there another explanation for this?”

  A very innocent one, in fact, but he obviously wasn’t prepared to listen to anything she had to say. “Ask your brother,” she said instead. “He was there.”

  She saw a quick flicker of surprise in his eyes before they narrowed again. “Marcus?”

  “Yes.”

  His jaw tightened. “It seems that at least two of my brothers have exhibited questionable judgment where you’re concerned, and though I didn’t agree with Julian’s decision to hire a nanny so young and obviously inexperienced, it was his decision to make. But the children are my responsibility now, and I have to do what’s best for them.”

  Now she did drop her gaze, so he wouldn’t see the tears that filled her eyes. It was her own fault, she knew, for baiting him. But his self-righteousness grated on her and overrode her common sense. It was only thoughts of the children that enabled her to ignore both her anger and her pride. For them she would grovel, she would plead—she would do whatever was necessary.

  “Whatever you think that picture means, it has nothing to do with my ability to care for the children.”

  “On the contrary,” he said mockingly, “it has everything to do with knowing what is best for them and proves to me that your judgment is lacking.”

  His tone was decisive, his expression stony, and she knew that groveling and pleading would have no effect on this man. Along with the realization came a stab of pain that struck deep into her heart.

  “You can pick up your severance pay from the finance office on your way out,” he said.

  The anger was stronger than the hurt now, and strong enough to override the reason that had held her temper in check. “Is that supposed to make everything okay? Do you really think monetary compensation would make me want to abandon the children?”

  When he opened his mouth to speak, she shook her head. “Oh, that’s right—what I want is irrelevant.”

  A muscle in his jaw tightened, but he only said, “That will be all, Miss Brennan.”

  She made her way to the door, brokenhearted and defeated by the knowledge that there was nothing she could do now. On the other hand, she had nothing left to lose. She paused with her hand on the knob and turned back to him.

  “No, that’s not all,” she said. “You say you’re doing this because it’s best for the children, but how could you possibly know? Do you think that spending a few hours at the dinner table with them on special occasions has made you an expert on what they want or need?”

  He deliberately kept his attention focused on the papers on his desk, as if she was already gone. But Lara wouldn’t be dismissed so easily.

  “Did you know that Christian struggles with algebra and hates scalloped potatoes? Did you know that Lexi’s favorite color is orange and that she dreams of being a dancer?”

  He glanced up, his eyes hard and cold, but said nothing.

  “Did you know that Damon hasn’t slept through the night since he heard about the explosion on the yacht?”

  There, finally, just the slightest flicker of something, though she couldn’t have guessed whether it was surprise or distress or annoyance. And when he spoke, it was only to say, “Are you quite finished now?”

  She shook her head. It was too late to hope that he would reconsider—the prince regent wouldn’t let his decisions be questioned, never mind changed—but, for the sake of the children, she needed him to understand. “They need more than a watchful eye and instruction on their royal responsibilities—they need to know that they’re loved.”

  His jaw hardened. “You are dismissed, Miss Brennan.”

  The tears that she’d tried so valiantly to hold back, tears of frustration and anger and hurt, spilled onto her cheeks, but she held her head high. “And you are an arrogant, pompous ass.”

  Chapter Two

  “You really called him that?” Tanis’s grin was as wide as her eyes.

  “I really did.” Lara sniffled as she nodded.

  She’d hardly stopped crying since she’d driven through the gates of the palace, away from the children she’d grown to love as if they were her own. The children to whom she hadn’t even said goodbye.

  Prince Rowan hadn’t refused to let her see them, so she couldn’t blame him for that. No, that responsibility was entirely her own, because she’d known she would never be able to face them without falling apart and because she didn’t know how to explain to them that she was leaving—at least not without revealing Rowan’s part in causing her departure. As angry as she might be with His Highness, he was the children’s legal guardian and she had no right—nor did she want—to interfere with that. But, oh, how her heart ached.

  Lara figured that when a person was feeling battered and bruised, she should go home. Unfortunately, home was nearly a thousand miles away, so she’d asked the palace chauffeur to take her to Tan’s house instead.

  Tanis had returned to Tesoro del Mar two years after Lara had settled on the island, partly to avoid her mother’s attempts to marry her off but mostly to be closer to her best friend. An art history graduate and struggling artist, she worked full-time at a local café to pay the rent and part-time at the Port Augustine Art Gallery to buy her canvases and paints and—she kept hoping—make some professional connections. In light of her busy schedule, Lara was lucky to have caught Tan at home—and grateful.

  “I would have loved to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.” Her friend brought a bottle of merlot and a couple of glasses to the table.

  Lara knew that even if she could explain her vehement outburst, her behavior was still inexcusable. “I was just so hurt and angry.”

  “And understandably so.” Tanis poured the wine.

  “You’ve devoted four years to that family, and he tosses you out on your butt because of a sexy photo in the paper.”

  She winced. “I don’t even want to think about that picture. I still don’t understand how it could have been taken. It was a private beach—and Lexi and Damon and Marcus were there, too.”

 
“Telephoto lens,” her friend said matter-of-factly. “Then some creative zooming and cropping and instead of a picture of the royal nanny spending a day at the beach with the kids, the photographer has a front-page sex kitten.”

  “Thank you so much for your support.”

  Tan just grinned.

  Lara sipped her wine. “Do you think he can have me deported for what I said to him?”

  “He’s the prince regent—he could probably have you deported for jaywalking, but why would he bother?”

  “Good point.”

  “You know,” Tanis said, bringing a platter of assorted sweets to the table, “you should consider the possibility that His Royal Arrogance did you a favor.”

  “How’s that?” she asked miserably.

  “Because as long as you were working and living at the palace, you were never going to get over your infatuation with him.”

  Lara selected a macademia nut brownie and bit into it. “Which is the same problem you have with your work at the art gallery.”

  “Now at least you’re free to do what you want when you want,” her friend continued, ignoring the reference to her own life. “Maybe even go out on a date every once in a while.”

  “You make it sound like I was locked up in the palace tower for the past four years.”

  “You might as well have been.”

  “I’ve been on dates,” Lara said, just a little defensively.

  “Have you ever gone out with the same guy more than twice?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “No,” Tanis answered her own question. “Because you mentally compare everyone to Rowan, and what normal guy could even hope to compete with a prince?”

  She couldn’t deny it was true, even if the comparisons had mostly been subconscious, so she said nothing.

  “You’re twenty-five years old,” her friend continued. “Way too young to be thinking about marriage, in my opinion, but if you really want to have a dozen kids of your own someday, you have to stop living in a fairy-tale world and start looking for daddy prospects.”