by Leanne Banks
She laughed. “I didn’t speak to my parents very often. I mentioned something about it to my nanny after the second summer and was never sent back after that. The cleaning wasn’t that bad. The camp had a fabulous library and no one edited my reading choices. Heaven for me,” she said.
“Will clean for books?” he said.
She smiled and met his gaze. “Something like that.”
He held her gaze for a long moment and saw the second that her awareness of him hit her. Breaking the visual connection, she cleared her throat. “Well, I should get back to work.”
“Anything special you want me to do?”
“Mop the floors if you don’t mind. I’ve already dusted the entire house, but haven’t touched the guest quarters outside. I think it would also be a good idea for you to assess the arrangement of the furniture throughout the house for any special needs your parents may have, such as your father’s foot problem. We don’t want him tripping and prolonging his recovery.”
“I don’t know. It might be a good thing if my father is immobile. He could cause trouble when he’s full strength,” Nic said. “He’s always been a rebellious, impulsive man. I hate to say it, but he might just take a trip out of the house so he can feel like he’s flying in the face of your family.”
Pippa winced. “He wouldn’t admit his name, would he?”
“I hope not. That’s part of the reason I wasn’t sure this was a good idea,” he said.
“What made you change your mind?”
“You did. My father will be okay if he’s reminded that his responsibility is to make this time for my mother as trouble-free as possible. I’ll make sure he gets that message in multiple modalities every day.”
“Thank you very much,” she said.
“If you’re so terrified that your family will find out, why did you take this risk for yourself? Your relationship with your brothers and sisters will never be the same if they know you did this.”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a half beat as if to bolster her determination. “I hate the idea of disappointing my brothers and sisters. I hate it more than you can imagine, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I could help your mother with this one wish if I had the ability. And I have the ability.”
“I’ll do what I can to make sure the rest of the Devereauxs don’t find out. I haven’t told my mother yet about the cottage. She’s going to be very excited.”
Pippa smiled. “I hope so.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll go check out the bedrooms.”
* * *
An hour later, after Pippa finished vacuuming and tackled the kitchen, she found Nic cleaning the hall bathroom. It was an ironic sight. Hot six-foot-four international businessman scrubbing the tub. Just as he wouldn’t expect to find her turn into a cleaning machine, she wouldn’t expect the same of him, either. She couldn’t help admiring the way his broad shoulders followed the shape of a V to his waist. Even in a T-shirt, the man looked great from behind. Bloody shame for her. Get your mind out of the gutter.
He turned around before she had a chance to clear her throat or utter a syllable. She stared at him speechless for a second, fearing he could read her mind. Not possible, she told herself as she felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
In too many ways, she thought, but refused to dwell on them. “I’m almost finished with the kitchen, and it occurred to me that it might be a good idea to arrange for some groceries to be picked up for your parents before they arrive.”
“Groceries?” he echoed.
“Yes, I was hoping you could help with a list.”
He made a face. “I don’t do a lot of grocery shopping. My housekeeper takes care of that.”
“I have less experience with grocery shopping that I do with cleaning. That’s why I thought we could send someone.”
“Who can we trust?” he asked.
She winced. “Excellent point.”
“After we move them in, I’ll just arrange for a member of my staff from the yacht to take care of house and shopping duties,” he said. “But unless we want to delay their move-in, it looks like we’ll need to do the initial run ourselves.”
“We?” she squeaked.
“I didn’t think it would be nice to ask you to do it by yourself,” he said.
But it had clearly crossed his mind. She frowned.
“Will that put you a little close for comfort to the plebeians?”
“No,” she told him, detesting the superior challenging expression on his face. “I was just trying to remember if I’d left my cap in my vehicle.”
“I have an extra,” he said. “I’ll take you in my car.”
“What about the list?”
“We’ll wing it,” he said.
Moments later, she grabbed her cap from her car and perched her oversize sunglasses on her nose. She didn’t bother to look at her reflection. After spending the afternoon cleaning, she knew she didn’t look like anyone’s idea of a princess. Nic opened the passenger door for her and she slid into his car.
After he climbed into the driver’s side, the space inside his Mercedes seemed to shrink. She inhaled to compensate for the way her lungs seemed to narrow at Nic’s proximity, but only succeeded in drawing in a draft of the combination of his masculine scent and subtle but sexy cologne. He pulled out of the driveway.
“Which way to the nearest market?” he asked.
Pippa blinked. She had no idea.
“Here,” he said, handing her his phone. “Find one on my smartphone.”
It took a couple moments, and Nic had to backtrack, but they were moving in the right direction.
“I’m thinking eggs, milk, bread and perhaps some fruit,” she said, associating each item with one of her fingers. It was a memory trick she’d taught herself when she was young. The only problem was when she ran out of fingers.
“Chocolate, cookies and wine,” Nic added. “A bakery cake if we can find it. My mother’s priority for eating healthy went down the tubes after her last appointment with the doctor. My dad will want booze and carbs. His idea of health food is a pork roast with a loaded baked potato.”
“Oh, my,” she said, trying to wrap her head around Nic’s list versus hers. “I hope we can find—”
“They’ll be happy with whatever we get for the first twenty-four hours,” Nic said as he pulled into the parking lot. “Let’s just do this fast,” he added and pulled on a ball cap of his own. “The faster we move, the less chance you have of being discovered.”
“I think I’m well-disguised,” she said as he opened the door and helped her out of the car.
“Until you open your mouth,” he said.
“What do you mean by that?”
He led her toward the door of the market. “I mean you have a refined, distinctive voice, PD. A combination of husky sweet and so proper you could have been in Regency England.”
“PD,” she echoed, then realized PD stood for Pippa Devereaux. “Well, at least I look ordinary,” she huffed.
He stopped beside her. “And I don’t,” he said, tugging on his ball cap.
She allowed herself a forbidden moment of looking at him from head to toe. He could have been dressed in rags and he would be sexy. She swallowed an oath. “You don’t know the meaning of ordinary,” she said and walked in front of him.
Hearing Nic grab a cart behind her, she moved toward the produce. “Surely, they’d enjoy some fruit. Your mother seemed to favor fruit crepes the other day.”
“They were wrapped in sugar,” he said as she picked up a bunch of bananas and studied them. “In the basket,” he instructed. “We have a need for speed, PD.”
“I’m not sure I like being called PD,” she said, figh
ting a scowl as she put the bananas in the cart.
He pressed his mouth against her ear. “Would you prefer PP instead? For Princess Pippa?”
A shiver of awareness raced through her and she quickly stepped away. “Not at all,” she said and picked up an apricot. “Does this look ripe?”
“It’s perfect,” he said, swiping it from her hand and added two more to the cart. “Now, move along.”
She shot him an affronted look but began to walk. “No one except my brothers or sisters would dream of speaking to me that way.”
“One of my many charms, PD,” he said and tossed a loaf of bread into the cart.
Moments later, after throwing several items into the cart, they arrived at the register. Pippa picked up a bag of marshmallows.
“Good job,” he said.
“I thought they could make that camping dessert you Americans eat,” Pippa said. She’d read about it in a book.
“Camping treat?” he echoed.
“Some More of something,” she said.
His eyes widened. “S’mores,” he said. “We need chocolate bars and graham crackers. Get him to hold you,” he said and strode away.
“Hold me?” she said at the unfamiliar expression and caught the cashier studying her. He was several years younger than she was with rings and piercing in places that made her think ouch.
He leaned toward her. “If you need holding, I can help you after I finish my shift,” he said in a low voice.
Embarrassment flooded through her. She was rarely in a position for a man to flirt with her. Her brother usually set her up with men at least twenty years older, who wouldn’t dare make an improper advance, so she wasn’t experienced with giving a proper response. “The grocery order,” she finally managed. “I was repeating what my, uh, friend said. He misspoke, as he often does. The grocery order need holding.”
The cashier looked disappointed. “The customer behind you is ready.”
Pippa considered pulling royal rank, but knew it would only hurt her in the end, so she stepped aside and allowed the person behind her with a mammoth order go first.
Less than a moment later, Nic appeared with chocolate bars and graham crackers. He glanced at the person in front of her and frowned. “How did that happen? I told you to hold the cashier.”
“There was a mix-up and he thought I wanted, uh, him for reasons other than his professional duties. When I refused his kind invitation, he felt spurned and allowed the customer behind me to proceed.” She sighed. “Do all men have such delicate egos?”
Nic lifted a dark brow before he pulled his sunglasses over his eyes. “Depends on how many mixed messages we get. Poor guy.”
Chapter Three
“Are you sure you want to read to Stephenia tonight?” Eve Jackson Devereaux, the wife to the crown prince of Chantaine, asked in her Texas twang as she walked with Pippa to her stepdaughter’s room inside the royal master suite. “You look a little tired.”
“I wouldn’t dream of missing it. You and Stefan enjoy a few extra moments this evening. You deserve it.”
“You are a dream sister,” Eve said.
Pippa felt her heart squeeze at how Eve left off at the in-law. “As are you,” she said and studied her sister-in-law. “You look like you could use a long night’s rest yourself.”
Eve frowned and pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, no. Maybe I need one of those spa boosts Bridget is always talking about.”
“Or just rest,” Pippa said. “You may be Texan, but you’re not superhuman.”
Eve laughed. “If you say so. I didn’t want to ask, but I have a routine medical appointment tomorrow. Can you backup for the nanny?”
It wasn’t convenient, but Eve so rarely asked that she couldn’t refuse. “No problem. You’re sure it’s just routine?” she asked.
Eve smiled. “Nothing else. Thank you. I knew I could count on you. But Stefan and I were talking the other night and we both realized how much you do for all the nieces and nephews. You’re due some happy times of your own and we’re going to work on that.”
“Work?” Pippa echoed, fighting a sliver of panic. She definitely did not want to become the object of her family’s attention. Especially now. “How?”
Eve shot her a sly look that frightened her. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“There’s no need to work that hard,” Pippa said. “I’m busy with my dissertation and—”
“Don’t worry. Just enjoy,” Eve said.
“Right,” Pippa said nervously. “Don’t work too hard.”
Eve opened the door to Stephenia’s room where the three-year-old sat playing with her toys. “Steffie, I thought you wanted Pippa to read to you tonight. You’re not in bed.”
Stephenia immediately crawled into bed with an innocent expression on her face, her ringlet curls bouncing against her flushed cheeks. “I’m in bed,” she said in her tiny voice, which never failed to make Pippa’s heart twist.
Eve tossed a sideways glance at Pippa and whispered, “She’s such a heart stealer. We’re so screwed.”
Pippa laughed under her breath. “Thank goodness Stefan has you. I’m lucky. She’ll fall asleep by the time I finish the second book.”
“Or first,” Eve said in a low voice. “She’s been a Tazmanian devil today. I have to believe she’s spent some of her energy.”
Stephenia lifted her arms. “Mamaeve.”
Pippa knew Eve had felt reluctant to take on the name of Stephenia’s mother even though the woman had perished in a boating accident. Out of respect, Eve had taught the child Mamaeve. Eve rushed toward the child and enveloped her in a loving hug.
“Daddy?” Stephenia asked.
“In the shower,” Eve said. “He’ll kiss you good-night, but you may already be asleep.”
Steffie sighed and gave Eve an extra hug. The sight was heartwarming to Pippa because she’d mostly been raised by hired nannies. She knew it could have been much worse, but it gave her such relief to know that her nieces and nephews would have such a different life than she’d experienced.
“Pippa,” Stephenia said, extending her arms, and it occurred to Pippa that she would fight an army to get to her niece.
“I’ll let you two go to Where the Wild Things Are,” Eve said, backing toward the door and giving a little wave. “Sweet dreams.”
“Good night,” Pippa said.
“’Night Mamaeve.”
Eve smiled and left the room closing the door behind her.
Pippa sank onto Stephenia’s twin bed and pulled the child against her. Where the Wild Things Are was especially appropriate for Stephenia because the child had been such a bloody screamer when she’d first arrived at the palace. Stephenia was the product of a relationship between her brother Stefan and a model who’d never bothered to tell Stefan about his child. He’d only learned about Stephenia after the mother’s death. It had been a shock to the family and the country of Chantaine, but everyone had taken Stephenia into their hearts. How could they not? She had Stefan’s eyes and spirit and she was beautiful.
Pippa began to read the book and before she was halfway through, Stephenia was slumped against her, sleeping. She felt the warmth of sleepy drool on her shirt underneath the child’s face. Pippa chuckled to herself and carefully situated Stephenia onto the bed. She brushed a kiss onto her niece’s head and slid out of the bed, leaving the book on the nightstand. Pippa turned off the light and kissed Stephenia once more, then quietly left the room.
As she walked down the hall, she wondered, not for the first time, if or when she would have children of her own. Pippa knew she’d been shielded from normal relationships with the opposite sex. Every date, and there’d been few, had to be vetted by Stefan, the advisers and of course, security. The only relationship she’d had that approached no
rmality had been her brief thing with Nic. She supposed she couldn’t really call it an affair because they hadn’t done the deed, but Nic hadn’t bowed to her unless he’d been joking. He’d treated her like a desirable woman. Pippa couldn’t remember another time when she’d felt genuinely desirable.
She rolled her eyes at herself as she entered her small suite. She had far more important things to do than worry about feeling desirable. Thinking back to what Eve had said about how she and Stefan were planning to work on her happiness, she cringed. This was not the time.
* * *
Nic moved his parents into the cottage. The activity exhausted both of them, so they were taking naps, his mom using her oxygen. She’d begun to use it every night. Nic had adjusted the bed so that her head would be elevated. Many days his mother hid her illness well, but lately he could tell she’d had a harder time of it. She resisted taking too much pain medication, complaining that it made her sleepy. Amelie was determined to get every drop of life she could, and she was giving Nic a few lessons he hadn’t expected along the way.
He’d brought over a few members of his crew to clean the pool and jacuzzi and get them operational as soon as possible. He dug into the labor with his men, hoping that expending physical energy would help relieve some of his frustration. Even though he mentally knew that he couldn’t make his mother well, he had a bunch of crazy feelings that he spent a lot of effort denying. It was important that he continue that denial because his parents sure as hell had enough on their own plates without his crap.
As he cleaned the side of the pool wall with a brush, he spotted Pippa coming through the gate carrying a bag. She was wearing a skirt that fluttered around her knees and a lacy cotton blouse. As usual, her wild hair was pulled into a topknot. He’d always thought her hair was a sign that she wasn’t nearly as proper as she seemed. He knew she considered herself the plainest of the Devereaux sisters, but during that brief period they’d spent time together, he sure had enjoyed making her fair skin blush with embarrassment or pleasure. She was the most sincere and sweetest woman he’d ever met.
Appearing intent on her plan, whatever that was, she walked right past him as if she didn’t see him. Just as she lifted her hand to the door to knock, he gave a loud wolf whistle.