The Prince's Royal Dilemma

by Brenda Harlen

  “Thank you.”

  She still insisted on speaking with Luke before she would go anywhere with Rowan, to ensure the other man would be able to manage without her while he interviewed for her replacement. Rowan finally offered to send Edna Harris to the Kerrigan residence, figuring it was the least he could do for the nanny whose services would no longer be needed and the man who was being left in the lurch.

  But his thoughts were focused exclusively on Lara as he led her out to his black Mercedes SUV and opened the passenger door for her. He caught a whiff of her scent—something both subtle and sexy—as she moved past him to climb into the vehicle.

  He felt the now-familiar and always-frustrating ache low in his belly and knew that living in close proximity to this woman was going to slowly drive him out of his mind.

  She barely said two words to him throughout the journey back to the palace, but he hadn’t expected that she would. He’d once thought her quiet demeanor was an indication of a docile nature. He now knew better. She had spirit and courage, and he found himself admiring those qualities as much as he worried about them.

  He wasn’t usually so far off in his assessments of people, but he’d made some major miscalculations where the young nanny was concerned. She was a woman of strength and depth, warmth and compassion. She was obviously devoted to his niece and nephews and clearly not intimidated by his title or status.

  He knew he should be pleased. He’d gone out tonight with the express purpose of bringing Lara back to the palace, and he’d got what he wanted. So why was he so uneasy?

  He glanced over at her, noting the softly faded jeans that hugged her hips and the pale-yellow sweater that clung enticingly to the gentle swell of her breasts. She hadn’t put any makeup on, but her natural features didn’t need any artificial enhancement. Her deep green eyes were framed by thick lashes, her cheekbones were high and sharp, her lips full and soft. She was more beautiful than any woman he’d ever known, and more tempting than any woman should have a right to be.

  He tightened his hands around the steering wheel and forced his attention back to the road.

  He might have thought he’d got what he wanted, but the truth was that he wanted so much more.

  Lara exhaled a silent sigh as Rowan signaled to the guard in the security hut beside the tall iron gates and started up the long, winding drive toward the palace.

  To a naive young woman venturing away from her home for the first time on her own, it had been like a fantasy. Four and a half years later, the sight of those impressive columns and elaborate cornices still took her breath away.

  Rowan parked in front of the steps that led to the main entrance, and Lara opened her door and climbed out before he could come around to help her. She wasn’t a guest; she was a servant. And whatever she might think she’d seen in his eyes when he’d been standing so close to her in Luke’s kitchen, she couldn’t let herself forget that.

  Maybe he did desire her. And maybe it surprised her to realize he could and did. He’d always seemed so serious and disapproving, more likely to scowl at her than smile—which was probably a good thing, considering how everything inside her went to mush when he smiled. But she wasn’t so innocent as to believe that wanting equaled liking, and she wasn’t going to make the mistake of weaving any fantasies around a man who clearly thought so little of her.

  She followed him through the front door, nerves jumping in her belly as she glanced around the spacious foyer. She’d never expected to come back, and now that she had, she was as overwhelmed as she’d been the first time. It was more than the glossy marble floors and the chandeliers that dripped with crystal, more than the heirloom rugs that muffled her footsteps and the sweet scent of fresh flowers that spilled out of enormous urns. It was a sense of home-coming, a feeling of complete happiness that she wasn’t sure she’d ever known before.

  He passed her suitcases to Hannah, whose warm smile reassured Lara that the housekeeping supervisor wasn’t annoyed at being summoned from her bed to help get the young nanny settled back in.

  “I know you’re probably tired,” Rowan said to Lara when Hannah had gone, “but I’d appreciate a few more minutes of your time.”

  “Of course,” she agreed.

  “We never did have the tea you made earlier,” he noted, leading her into the parlor. “Would you like me to call for some now?”

  “Not for me, thank you.”

  He crossed to the camelback settee, as if he was going to sit. Then apparently changed his mind, because he moved back toward her again.

  “I don’t like to make mistakes,” he finally said. “But I believe in accepting responsibility for my actions. And the fact is, I owe you an apology.

  “Marcus explained the circumstances behind the picture in the paper,” he continued. “About your efforts to help Lexi get over her fear of the water. I wish you’d told me yourself.”

  “Would it have made any difference?”

  “I like to think so, but…I honestly don’t know. I thought I was doing what was right. I didn’t think you were what the children needed. I was wrong.”

  He lifted his eyes to hers, and she felt those familiar and frustrating shivers chase down her spine again. Just a look—and she was ready to melt. But she refused to let him see the effect he had on her.

  Instead she stiffened her spine and lifted her chin. “Is this where I’m supposed to apologize for the things I said as well, Your Highness?”

  Rowan couldn’t help but smile at the fierce thrust of her chin and the determined glint in her eye. She was like a warrior ready to do battle, and he marveled that he’d never before realized she was as much steel as silk.

  “The circumstances being what they were, Miss Brennan, no, I neither expect nor want an apology. I do, however, hope that your opinion of me will change over time.”

  “You put the children’s needs before your own wishes when you came to see me tonight,” she said. “That’s a start.”

  “Well, I’m going to try for some extra points by adding gratitude to my apology. I know you didn’t have to come back, but I’m thankful that you did.”

  “I came for the children.”

  “I know. I’m grateful, anyway.” He moved decisively toward the door. “I’ll walk you up.”

  “I know the way.”

  “Of course you do,” he agreed, falling into step beside her.

  She frowned but made no further protest as he accompanied her up the stairs and down the hall to her rooms. When he stopped in front of her door and turned, she was close enough to touch, and he was unable to resist.

  Maybe it was a test—to see if the jolt he’d felt earlier had been real. Maybe it was a weakness—a simple human need to connect with another being. Maybe it was a desire—too long denied and too strong to be ignored.

  Whatever the reason, he lifted a hand and gently brushed his knuckles down her cheek. Her eyes widened, her breath caught, and he knew that the spark of awareness was both real and reciprocal.

  But he let his hand drop away, understanding that to fan the flames of the simmering attraction could also be dangerous for both of them.

  “Good night, Miss Brennan.”

  She swallowed. “Good night, Your Highness.”

  He watched as she slipped into her room, listened to the soft click of the door as it closed behind her. As he made his way to his own room, he worried that he’d just made another mistake, though he wasn’t certain if it was in touching her…or walking away.

  Chapter Four

  Elena Marissa Santiago Leandres had plenty of reasons to feel disgruntled.

  As the second child born to His Royal Highness Prince Emmanuel Augustine Santiago and Princess Graciela Marissa Santiago, and a daughter, she had never been considered for the throne. It hadn’t bothered her when she was younger because she’d known she had a lot more freedom than her brother, Eduardo, who was constantly being instructed in one or another of his royal duties. No, it hadn’t bothered her at all until
she’d realized that her parents expected great things of Eduardo and all they expected of her was that she would marry well.

  She defied them by running off with a farmer.

  It took Prince Emmanuel a few years to overcome his fury and realize that his daughter did love the man she’d married. When he did, he forgave her impetuousness, granted her the title princess royal, and gave her and her husband a small estate on the northeastern coast of the island.

  When Emmanuel died, Eduardo took his place on the throne, as was customary. Then Eduardo passed on, and his eldest son, Julian, succeeded him. Elena had accepted that without question, too.

  But now Julian was gone, and without an heir of legal age to assume the crown, it had passed—albeit temporarily—to Eduardo’s second-born son. Rowan’s position as prince regent had been automatically approved by the Royal Council of the Throne, and she did have issue with that.

  Julian’s successor should have been chosen from all eligible members of the royal family—of which her children were a part. Their name might not be Santiago, but their blood was as blue as that of their cousins who lived in the royal palace on the hill.

  There was little that could be done now, since the council had ratified Rowan’s appointment and refused to correct their mistake. But if, for some reason, the current prince regent was found ineligible or unsuitable to continue in that position, Michael and Cameron would be given equal consideration with Eduardo’s other children.

  The princess royal would make certain of that.

  Lara settled back into her routine with the children so quickly and easily she almost forgot she’d ever been away from the palace. She continued to coax Lexi toward the water, understanding how important it was for the child to conquer her fear when she lived on an island in the middle of a sea. She responded to Damon’s heart-wrenching screams when they awoke her in the middle of the night, and prayed those terror-filled dreams would soon start to fade. But it was Christian who worried her most, because he gave no outward indication of the grief she knew had to be tearing him up inside. Instead he seemed to have focused his attention inward, doing everything he could to mold himself into his father’s image with little consideration for the boy he still was.

  As for Rowan—whether he was deliberately keeping his distance or was simply preoccupied with his new duties, their paths rarely crossed. There were no more heated glances from the handsome prince because she seldom saw him anymore, and no more fiery sparks when he touched her because he was never close enough to do so. As one week turned into two, she found herself wondering if she’d fabricated the connection she’d felt between them. By the end of that second week, she was certain she had.

  It was Tuesday morning of the third week that she’d received his note. She’d been sitting by the fountain in the garden, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine while the children were at school when Lionel delivered the prince regent’s message to her:

  “7:00 p.m. dinner—the family dining room.”

  She’d frowned at the arrogant demand spelled out in his bold masculine script, because there was no doubt that’s what it was. It wasn’t an invitation or a request but a royal command.

  As she dressed for dinner, she was still irritated by the assumption in Rowan’s note that she would appear at the designated time simply because it was what he wanted. And of course she would. Because he was the prince and she had no right or reason to refuse.

  Yes, she was irritated with the prince—and annoyed with herself that there could be flutters of excitement in her belly at the thought of seeing a man who had such little regard for her. But it was the same whenever she was near the prince: his status as a royal made her nervous; his presence as a man made her yearn. Maybe she’d imagined that he could be attracted to her, but there was no denying her own feelings. She could only be grateful that he seemed oblivious to the effect he had on her.

  She took her time deciding what to wear, wanting something that was formal enough without being too formal. After she dressed, she darkened her lashes with mascara and slicked some gloss on her lips, then picked up a bottle of her favorite perfume but set it back down again without spritzing any of the scent. There was no point in primping for a man who wouldn’t even notice, never mind appreciate, the effort. No—the prince regent would only notice if she was late, and she was going to be just that if she didn’t hurry.

  There were three dining rooms in the palace: the royal banquet hall could seat more than one hundred guests for state dinners and other special events; the formal dining room for gatherings of up to forty friends and family members; and the family dining room for more intimate meals. Tonight there were five places set at the antique walnut table that could seat up to twenty.

  As Rowan glanced around at those five settings, he acknowledged that he’d made little progress in getting to know the children in the time that had passed since Julian’s and Catherine’s deaths. And to be honest, he’d made little effort to do so. He’d focused instead on business and politics, confident in his abilities in those areas, while the children remained a mystery to him.

  Still, he didn’t usually neglect his responsibilities, and when he realized he’d been doing so, he decided sharing a meal with his niece and nephews could start to change the situation. He’d hesitated to include the nanny, but in the end had decided her presence might help smooth over any awkwardness with the children. He figured that would be a fair trade against the discomfiting awareness he felt whenever she was around.

  The sound of pounding footsteps in the hall drew his attention back to the present, followed by a hushed reprimand, then slower and quieter steps approached the doorway. Lexi bounded in first, eyes sparkling and cheeks glowing with barely restrained enthusiasm, tugging the hand of her little brother. Damon lagged a few steps behind only by virtue of the fact that his legs were shorter than his sister’s. Then came Christian, typically more serious and reserved than either of his younger siblings, and finally Lara.

  Though he greeted each of the children in turn, it was the nanny who caught and held his attention—as she seemed to do whenever she walked into a room. Tonight she was wearing a halter-style dress that bared her shoulders, nipped in at her narrow waist and finished with a flirty little ruffled skirt at her knees. Her legs were bare and tanned, her feet tucked into sexy sandals that added close to three inches to her five-foot, seven-inch frame and revealed toenails that were painted a bright coral color.

  As his gaze swept over her, he felt the slow spread of liquid yearning through his veins, an actual physical ache that was only exacerbated by the realization that he couldn’t have her. Though he knew the attraction he felt wasn’t entirely one-sided, there was no getting around the fact that he was supposed to be looking for a bride and Lara, as the children’s nanny, was strictly off-limits.

  Throughout the meal she made an effort to engage each of the children in conversation, helping them to share stories about the events of their day with him. But Rowan noticed that she didn’t speak directly to him and she pushed more food around her plate than she actually ate, leading him to wonder if she was dissatisfied with the menu or if she was one of those women who rarely did more than nibble.

  Christian, on the other hand, ate like a typical teenage boy. He’d already finished his first plate and was pouring gravy over another heaping mound of roast beef and potatoes. Lexi picked at her food without a lot of enthusiasm, while Damon had made a road through his mashed potatoes and was driving two peas along the track.

  “Does the child not know how to use a fork?” he asked, not bothering to hide his exasperation.

  Lara shot him a look of annoyance before turning to the boy. “You’re supposed to eat your food, not play with it,” she reminded him gently.

  Damon picked up a piece of meat, popped it into his mouth, then went back to his race.

  “And you’re not s’posed to use your fingers,” Lexi told him primly.

  “Says who?” Damon demanded, glancing at
Rowan out of the corner of his eye as if in challenge.

  “Says Mommy.”

  His attention turned back to his sister. “Well, Mommy’s not here.”

  Lexi’s eyes filled with tears. “If she was, she’d tell you not to use your fingers.”

  “But she’s not and you can’t—”

  “Damon.” Lara interrupted his rant, her tone quiet but firm. “You shouldn’t have to be reminded about appropriate behavior at the table.”

  The boy pouted but picked up his neglected fork and stabbed a carrot.

  Lexi sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve.

  Rowan bit his tongue. He’d hoped this “family” dinner would provide an opportunity to share a meal and some conversation with his brother’s children, and he wasn’t pleased by the children’s bickering—or by the nanny’s failure to take control of the situation.

  Figuring his best chance for conversation was with his oldest nephew, he turned his attention in that direction. “I saw you were on the computer in the library earlier,” he said to Christian.

  The older boy nodded, his mouth full. He waited until he’d swallowed to respond further, reassuring Rowan that at least one of his brother’s children had decent table manners. “Doing online research.”

  “What were you researching?”

  “Causes of explosions on watercraft.”

  Lara’s fork clattered against her plate. “Christian.”

  He shrugged. “I just want to understand what happened, why they di—”

  “Stop right there.” Her gaze was stormy as it locked on Christian’s across the table.

  “He asked.” The boy shrugged again. “I just answered his question.”

  “‘He’ is your uncle,” Lara reminded him. “And this isn’t appropriate dinner conversation.”

  “Then what should we talk about?” Christian challenged. “What topics are suitable for fake family dinners?”

  So much for thinking the kid had manners. Rowan reined in his own temper and responded coolly, “This meal is a chance to get to know each other better, and I expect you to make an effort to do that.”