by Donna Alward
“Am I . . . intruding on a friendship, Stephani? Is it all right to ask that?”
Stephani’s face relaxed. “Oh, you’re thinking me and Diego? Not at all.” She laughed lightly. “I just mean I’ve seen it often enough. Propriety makes things difficult. In the end we’re all humans. We all want friends. Connections don’t really take class and status into consideration.”
She patted Rose’s hand. “I should go now. There’s a bottle of aloe gel for your burn. And some water and pills for your headache, if you still have one.”
“Thank you. You’re very kind.”
“I like looking after people. I don’t get a chance very often, now.” She frowned. “Raoul is very stubborn about admitting weakness or accepting help. I’ve been his assistant long enough, I try to anticipate his needs.”
“I think both brothers are stubborn,” Rose said darkly, and Stephani laughed.
“Well, between you, me, and Senora Ortiz, it’s up to us to take care of the family. It’s up to me to keep Raoul on task. You’re in charge of the children, who rave about you, by the way. And Senora Ortiz? She keeps everyone fed and happy.”
Food. The mention of it made Rose’s stomach gurgle. A pastry in the late morning and a small cake at tea was not enough to eat in the run of a day.
“Put lots of aloe on the burn and reapply as often as you can,” Stephani advised. “Hopefully it’ll calm quickly.”
She left then, leaving Rose alone with her aloe and aspirin.
Her stomach growled again and she popped the pills and then chased them down with the cold water. Maybe she could put decent clothes on and sneak down to the kitchen for a snack? Something to hold her over until breakfast? She eyed the aloe. If she applied it now, whatever she put on would get sticky from the gel. She’d go get some food and then come back, put the tank top back on, and then slather on the aloe. The burn was so hot that she could feel the heat coming off her skin.
Getting caught roaming the palace in pajamas wasn’t really an option, so Rose slipped on a pair of loose linen trousers and a featherlight sweater that draped rather than clung to her skin, particularly her arms. With her hair anchored up in a top knot, she headed for her door and the hallways that would lead to the kitchen and comfort.
As she opened the door, she nearly ran into Diego.
CHAPTER TEN
He carried a tray in his hand, and the smell coming from the covered dish was delectable. Her stomach growled but she ignored it.
Stephani had just told her she thought Diego was really lonely. Hadn’t he said something similar, that first night he’d found her by the fountain? It seemed so long ago now, instead of just a matter of weeks.
He’d been angry with her this afternoon. And yet here he was, at her door, bearing what appeared to be a late dinner.
“May I come in?” he said quietly.
“Of course you can.” She stepped aside. She wished she could still be angry at him for what he’d done today, but she couldn’t. Time and a nap had cleared her mind a bit. And while she might not say it out loud, she was very aware that her annoyance was at herself, for feeling such a weakness for him, as well as humiliation for getting herself in an awkward position in the first place.
This was not her world. And yet Diego made sure she was looked after. Protected.
Fed.
“What’s in the dish?” she asked, following him into the suite.
“Oh, Humble Pie, I would imagine,” he said dryly, then smiled at her. “I asked in the kitchen. You didn’t go down for dinner.”
She shook her head. “I think I had some heat stroke. I didn’t feel well, so I took a nap. And Stephani came by with some water and pills for my headache, and aloe for the burn.”
His gaze ran over her arms, cheeks, and chest. “Have you put any on yet?”
“No. And I will, but honest to God, you’ve got to let me at that food. I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day. Not since a pastry and coffee this morning.”
He whipped off the lid and revealed a steaming bowl of some sort of stew.
She sat at the table and gestured to the chair beside her. “Have a seat. I take it you’re going to join me in the wine?”
“If you want. I can leave you, if you like. I know you’re not happy with me.”
She’d taken a large, succulent bite of spicy shrimp, and she savored it before she answered. “I’m not mad anymore. Not at you, anyway.”
“I should have told you,” he admitted. “I set it up with the security team the day after our picture got into the paper. I didn’t want you to get caught off guard by the press or anyone else. But not telling you was wrong.”
“It was, but I can forgive it. I know you were just trying to protect me. This is all new to me, that’s all. And you came striding across the sand when I was feeling tired, and cranky, and foolish.” It was all she was willing to admit, but it was the truth.
“Maybe next time you can take a friend.”
Rose laughed. “A friend? I’m friendly with the staff, I suppose. But I don’t have friends, not . . . not a girlfriend.” Not like she’d had back in England. She was suddenly very homesick.
“Are you lonely, Rose?”
She met his gaze. He was opening the wine, his strong wrist turning the corkscrew as he watched her. She put down her fork. “Sometimes. Not often. I’m busy here, and everyone is lovely. They really are. The children keep me occupied and entertained, and I have anything a girl could want. My own suite, the gardens, even the camaraderie in the kitchen at night, for a cup of tea and a sneaky piece of cake.”
“But it’s not family.”
“I’m used to being away from them.”
“And used to not being a burden on anyone? Being the one to take care of others instead of letting others take care of you?”
She speared a chunk of chorizo. “That’s not a bad thing.” Then she sent him a grateful smile. “And just tonight, both you and Stephani have made sure I’m cared for. So there.”
He chuckled and handed her a glass of wine. “Nice try. It might have worked if you hadn’t added the ‘so there.’”
She chuckled in return and ate some more, then took a restorative drink of wine and sighed. This was better. Senora Ortiz’s excellent cooking and a fine wine, while sitting across from a real-life prince. She laughed again, staring into her bowl.
“What’s so funny?” He looked amused as he waited for her reply.
“This is just so surreal. I’m in a bloody castle, you see? And I’m entertaining a prince in my room. El Principe, Diego,” she said, the accent rolling smoothly off her tongue. “I’m pretty sure that no one in my family would quite believe it.”
Except Hayley, of course. Hayley was already pumping her for information in her e-mails. Rose loved her sister, but she would never betray the Navarro family. With or without the confidentiality agreement she’d been asked to sign.
“I’m just a man, Rose. The title . . . that’s an accident of birth. And yes, as you said today, I live a certain way. It comes with the title. But underneath all this”—he waved his hand around the room, then placed it on his chest—“I’m just flesh and blood, same as you. I have needs and wants, same as you. I have feelings that have nothing to do with me being a prince or you being the nanny, and everything to do with you being an incredibly compassionate, strong, beautiful woman.”
“Diego.” Her heart pounded now, thumping against her ribs as his words sounded in her ears and went straight to her soul. This would be such a mistake.
“I know, I know. And I don’t have the answers, Rose. I should but I don’t. All I know is that I have these feelings and they’re not going away.” He put down his glass and focused his gaze steadily on her face. “You make me want to be a better man, Rose. And that is something I have never felt before.”
It was unimaginable that he was saying these things to her. And yet she knew he was, because he was sitting right across from her, as earnest as she’d ever seen him.<
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“What would you have me do, Diego?” Simply asking the question scared her, because she hadn’t come right out and said no. That she was entertaining the idea was insane. “What if Raoul found out? What about the children?”
He got up from the table and spun away. “So neither of us should be free to have a personal life away from obligation? That’s cruel. And if and when the time comes, I’ll deal with Raoul and our father.” He sounded so sure of himself. Confident and strong.
“Your father is the king,” she reminded him.
“And a man,” Diego persisted, coming over beside her and kneeling by her chair. “He’s not heartless. He’s a man who once loved a woman no one approved of.”
He put his hand over hers.
“Don’t use that word,” she whispered. “It’s . . . precipitous.”
Too soon. This was all too soon.
He lifted her hand and kissed the base of it, by the pad of her thumb. She bit down on her lip, bracing herself for what she was sure was going to be seduction. With each passing moment, she was less inclined to fight it.
She wanted him, too.
The man. Not the prince.
He tugged on her hand and she got up from her chair and followed him to the sofa, where he sat beside her and trailed his fingers lightly over her forearm.
She was afraid. Afraid of starting something that could never end well. Afraid of losing her heart. Of losing everything.
And yet she was helpless to do anything but close her eyes as he leaned closer and touched his lips to hers.
He kissed her with such tenderness. With such . . . care. He wasn’t anything like the papers said. He loved, deeply. He looked after his family behind the scenes, asking for nothing in return. All he wanted from her was this moment. She cared for him too much to deny him.
So she slipped her hand up over his collar and along the back of his neck, drawing his lips harder against her own.
And oh, could he kiss. Soft, yet sure. Slow, but with a pulse-accelerating seduction that stole her breath. He wrapped her in his arms as they fell back against the cushions, lips and tongues tangling as their bodies pressed together. Rose’s tender skin tingled uncomfortably, but she ignored it in favor of the bliss of being held firmly yet carefully, as if she was something delicate and special.
His hand spanned her ribs, then slid beneath her sweater to cup her small breast. She’d only put on a bralette when she’d changed, and his hand was warm through the thin cotton barrier. She pressed against his palm.
He slid his mouth away from hers. “Your face is so hot,” he murmured, kissing the tip of her nose. “And I can’t promise I’ll have much more willpower. Let me help you with the aloe.” He removed his hand from beneath her shirt.
It was like being doused in cold water, or stepping outside on a raw January evening in Surrey. She’d been prepared for . . . everything, she realized. She’d moved into his embrace, sure that they were going to end up in her bed. Now he was putting on the brakes, and rather sharply.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, braving a look at him.
“No,” he answered, his voice low. “You did everything right. But I don’t want to rush. I want us to take our time. Be really, really sure. This is . . .” He looked down for a moment, and then back up. “This is too important to take lightly, Rose. I want to see where it leads, but I want to be careful. For all our sakes.” He held her hand as he spoke, a token of his sincerity.
She’d expected seduction, but not such sweet, serious consideration. She appreciated it, more than he probably understood. She knew all about wanting to do the right thing for everyone. Most of her life choices had been made according to that philosophy.
“Wait. See where it goes?” She bit down on her lip, both excited by the prospect and terrified, too. It was different when she was just thinking about this one night. This one moment. But was he talking about . . . dating?
He sighed. “I want to see where this leads. I’m not in the habit of kissing nannies, or confiding in them. I don’t want to treat you cavalierly, either. You’re too important to my family.” He hesitated. “To me. Caution seems like the right approach.”
“You’re worried,” she said, squeezing his fingers.
“A little. And I want us to get to know each other without a lot of input from my family or the press or anyone else. Can we do that? What you said today was so right. Privacy is a rare commodity. Can we at least cling to what little bit we might have until we figure things out a little more?”
“It’ll feel like sneaking around,” she replied, sitting back against the cushions.
“I know. But don’t we deserve to get to know each other without an audience?” He frowned. “That’s all I’m asking. Just a chance for us to sit like this. Talk. Kiss a little.” The impish grin flitted across his mouth once more. “Be normal.”
It did sound lovely. And despite her misgivings, she saw his point. If they were really going to explore what was happening between them, it made sense to do it privately before creating a stir in the household. It might give them a chance to decide if it was really worth fighting for, or if it was going to burn out as quickly as it had flared to life.
He kissed her again, and it was several minutes before they sat up straight again. Rose’s head spun, both from the kisses and from the heavy beating of her heart.
“Go put that shirt on again,” Diego said. “It’s been hours since you got back. You really need to take care of your sunburn.”
She did as he asked, slipping into her bathroom to change her sweater back to the sleeveless tank. When she came back out, he was squeezing some of the gel onto his hands.
“Sit,” he commanded, pulling out one of the chairs next to her table.
She did as he said. The light scent of the aloe filled the air and the first touch of gel to skin was a cold jolt. She gasped and then laughed, and then closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the cool sensation as he carefully smeared the gel over the back of her neck, the crests of her shoulders, and down her arms. He rubbed some on his hands and placed them on her cheeks, then dropped a soft kiss on her lips before adding more to his palm and placing it on her chest.
Another few moments, a shift of his hand, and they’d be back in seduction land again. But he didn’t go there. He stayed a perfect gentleman, to Rose’s disappointment. His fingertips gently rubbed the cool gel into her skin, easing the heat and the tight feeling the sunburn had caused.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice strained.
“De nada,” he murmured back, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “I don’t want to fight any more like we did today, Rose. I will be honest with you from now on. May I see you tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“It’s a date, then.”
She laughed a little, her chest cramping with delicious anticipation and a hint of apprehension about what they were agreeing to. “A date? Here at the palace?”
“Don’t underestimate me.” He flashed her a grin. “I do love a challenge.”
The smile slid from her face. “That’s not what I am, is it? A challenge?” She really hoped not. There was too much at stake, and more for her than for him. She wanted to believe him. Believe in him, the way no one really had before.
“No, Rosalie, you are not.” He turned her to face him. “This is not a game for me. I know it’s fraught with complications. But for once in my life, I don’t want to rush into anything impulsively. I want to take care.”
Her heart melted. “Okay, then,” she whispered, touching the hair just above his ear. “A date for tomorrow.”
“I’ll meet you here around ten? After the children go to sleep?”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Sleep well, Rose.” He leaned forward and kissed her lips again, and she walked him to the door as he carried the dinner tray. She opened the door and peeked outside. When she saw the coast was clear, she stood back and let him leave.
Once h
e was gone, she shut the door and rested against it for a moment. Was she out of her mind? This could make a mess of everything. And yet . . . they cared for each other. She certainly cared for him, and for the first time since she’d started calling herself an adult, she felt like she deserved to have something for herself. Not so she could send money to her sister to help with Alice’s upbringing. And not for her parents, either, who had never overtly pressured her but who were so happy that she was able to “travel” a bit as they’d never been able to afford. She was, she realized, a people pleaser.
For a few moments today, while she’d been at the market and the café, she’d started to feel what it was to please only herself. Was she not entitled to what she wanted once in a while?
Of course wanting to snog a prince of Marazur might be aiming a bit high for her first time out, but when opportunity knocked . . .
Who was she to refuse to answer?
* * *
Diego paused outside her door and let out a deep breath. He was nervous. Nervous! Him! Wouldn’t the tabloids get a kick out of that?
He’d left the suit jacket back in his suite, and the tie, too, but wore charcoal gray, finely tailored trousers and a dress shirt, open at the collar. He ran his hand over his hair one last time, then knocked softly on the door.
She answered it, a little smile on her face. “Hi,” she whispered.
He grinned. “Hi. Come on.”
She was wearing a dress. Nothing fancy, just a light, flowy thing that drifted around her thighs and made her legs look very long. She had some sort of a wrap in one hand, but she let him tug her along with the other. He checked the halls both ways, then gave her a peck on the cheek.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
He’d wanted privacy, so he’d gone up to the roof earlier and set everything up himself. The only person in on it was Senora Ortiz, who was his keeper of secrets. She’d sighed and given him a disapproving look, but then had done what he’d requested.
Rose’s sandals tapped on the stone steps, slightly behind him, as he led her up a long stairway to the roof and the parapets. While the weather was still warm and balmy, it was past ten o’clock, and there was a slight chill to the air as they stepped through the doorway onto the flat expanse of stone.