Prince Daddy & the Nanny

by Brenda Harlen

  It was only Riley, because she’d been spending more and more time with him every day, who asked for her daddy. Hannah tried to reassure the child without admitting that she had no idea where the prince had gone—or when he would be back.

  It was late—hours after Riley had finally settled down to sleep—before she heard the door open. She told herself that she wasn’t waiting up for him, but she’d taken the draft of Kevin’s latest essay into the library to read because she knew if she was there that she would hear the prince come in.

  “I didn’t know if you’d still be up,” he said.

  “I had some things to do.”

  He opened a glass cabinet and pulled out a crystal decanter of brandy. She wasn’t in the habit of drinking anything stronger than wine, and never more than a single glass. But when the prince poured a generous splash of the dark amber liquid into each of two snifters and offered one to her, it seemed rude to refuse.

  “You haven’t asked where I’ve been all day,” he noted, swirling the brandy in his glass.

  “I figured if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me.”

  He sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, but with his back to the arm, so that he was facing her. But he continued to stare into his glass as he said, “It was Sam’s and my anniversary today.”

  “You went to the cemetery,” she guessed.

  “Just like I do every year.” He swallowed a mouthful of brandy before he continued. “Except that this is the first time I almost forgot.”

  Hannah eyed him warily, uncertain how to respond—or even if she should. She sipped her drink cautiously while she waited for him to continue.

  “We celebrated twelve anniversaries together. This is only the fourth year that she’s been gone, and the date almost slipped by me.”

  “You’re feeling guilty,” she guessed.

  “Maybe,” he acknowledged. He tipped the glass to his lips again. “And maybe I’m feeling relieved, too. Because in the first year that she was gone, I couldn’t seem to not think, every single day, about how empty my life was without her, so the important dates—like her birthday and our anniversary—were unbearable.”

  He looked into his glass, and frowned when he found that it was nearly empty. “And then there was Mother’s Day. She wanted nothing so much as she wanted to have a baby, and she never got to celebrate a single Mother’s Day.”

  Beneath the bitter tone, she knew that he was still hurting deeply, still grieving for the wife he’d loved.

  “I wasn’t happy when Sam told me she was pregnant,” he admitted.

  Coming from a man who obviously doted on his little girl, the revelation startled her more than anything else he’d said.

  “I knew it was a risk for her,” he explained, and rose to pour another splash of brandy into his glass. “Though she’d successfully managed her diabetes for years, the doctors warned that pregnancy and childbirth would take a toll on her body.

  “After a lot of discussion and numerous medical consults, we decided not to take the risk. It was enough, I thought, that we had each other.”

  Obviously, Hannah realized, at some point that decision had changed.

  “She didn’t tell me that she’d stopped taking her birth control pills,” Michael confided. “We’d always been partners—not just in the business but in our marriage. Neither one of us made any major decisions without consulting the other, so I wasn’t just surprised when she told me that we were going to have a baby, I was furious.”

  Hannah didn’t say anything, because she knew the prince wasn’t trying to make conversation so much as he was trying to vent the emotions that were tearing him up inside. So she just sat and listened and quietly sipped her drink.

  “I was furious with Sam,” he continued, “for unilaterally making the decision that would cost her life, even if neither of us knew that at the time. And I was furious with my mother, for convincing Sam that I needed an heir—because I found out later that was the motivation behind Sam’s deception.”

  And that, she thought, explained so much of the tension in his relationship with his mother.

  “But in the end, I realized that I was most furious with myself—because I should have taken steps to ensure that Sam couldn’t get pregnant. If I had done that, then I wouldn’t have lost my wife.”

  He sank into the chair beside hers, as if all of the energy and emotion had drained out of him so that he was no longer able to stand.

  She touched his hand. “You might not have lost your wife,” she agreed softly. “But then you wouldn’t have your little girl.”

  He sighed. “You’re right. And now, when I think about it, I know that even if I could go back in time, I wouldn’t want to. I couldn’t ever give up Riley, even if it meant I could have Sam back.”

  “They say there’s nothing as strong as a parent’s love for a child,” she said softly, her throat tight.

  “The first time I held her in my arms, I knew there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her,” he admitted. “For a few glorious hours, I let myself imagine the future we would have together—Sam and Riley and myself. And then Sam was gone.”

  The grief in his voice was still raw—even after almost four years. And listening to him talk about the wife he’d obviously loved with his whole heart, Hannah experienced a pang of envy. Would she ever know how it felt to love like that—and to be loved like that in return?

  She’d thought she was in love with Harrison, but when their relationship ended, she was more angry than hurt. She most definitely had not been heartbroken.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t come in here with the intention of dumping on you.”

  “Please don’t apologize, Your Highness. And don’t worry—I can handle a little dumping.”

  “Strong shoulders and a soft heart?”

  She managed a smile. “Something like that.”

  “Can you handle one more confession?”

  She would sit here with him forever if it was what he wanted, but she had no intention of admitting that to him, so she only said, “Sure.”

  “I met Sam when I was fifteen years old and while I didn’t realize it at the time, I started to fall for her that very same day. I was lucky enough that she fell in love with me, too, because from that first moment, there was never anyone else. Even after she died…I never wanted anyone else.” His dark eyes lifted to hers, held. “Until now.”

  She swallowed.

  “I know it’s wrong,” he continued. “Not that it’s a betrayal of my vows, because I’ve finally accepted that Sam is gone, but wrong because you’re Riley’s nanny and—”

  She lifted a hand to touch her fingers to his lips, cutting off his explanation. She didn’t want to hear him say why it was wrong—she refused to believe that it was. If he wanted her even half as much as she wanted him, that was all that mattered.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind it occurred to her that the prince was still grieving and that if she made the next move, she might be taking advantage of him in a vulnerable moment.

  Then his fingers encircled her wrist, and his thumb stroked slowly over the pulse point there as if to gauge her response. As if he couldn’t hear how hard and fast her heart was pounding. Then he lowered her hand and laid it against his chest, so that she could feel that his heart was pounding just as hard and fast, and the last of her reservations dissipated.

  She knew there was no future for them, but if she could have even one night, she would gladly take it and cherish the memories forever.

  “I want you, Hannah,” he said again. “But the first time I kissed you, I promised that I wouldn’t do it again.”

  “You promised that you wouldn’t make any unwanted advances,” she corrected softly.

  “Isn’t that the same thing?”

  “Not if I want you to kiss me,” she said.

  “Do you?” he asked, his mouth hovering above hers so that she only needed to tilt her chin a fraction to make the kiss happen.

&
nbsp; “Yes.” She whispered her response against his mouth.

  It was the barest brush of her lips against his, yet she felt the jolt all the way down to her toes. She caught only a hint of his flavor, but she knew that it was rich and dark and more potent than the brandy she’d sipped.

  “I want you to kiss me,” she repeated, in case there was any doubt.

  He responded by skimming his tongue over the bow of her upper lip, making her sigh with pleasure. With need.

  “I want you,” she said.

  His tongue delved beneath her parted lips, tasting, teasing. She met him halfway, in a slow dance of seduction.

  It was only their second kiss, and yet she felt as if she’d kissed him a thousand times before. She felt as if she belonged in his arms. With him. Forever.

  No—she wasn’t going to let herself pretend that this was some kind of fairy tale. She knew better than to think that the prince wanted to sweep her off of her feet and take her away to live out some elusive happily-ever-after.

  But he did sweep her off of her feet—to carry her up the stairs to her bedroom. And the sheer romanticism of the gesture made her heart sigh.

  “Say my name, Hannah.”

  It seemed an odd request, until she realized that she’d never spoken his name aloud. Maybe because she hoped that using his title would help her keep him at a distance. But she didn’t want any distance between them now.

  “Michael,” she whispered, savoring the sound of his name on her lips.

  He smiled as he laid her gently on the bed, then made quick work of the buttons that ran down the front of her blouse. She shivered when he parted the material, exposing her heated flesh to the cool air. And again when he pushed the silk off of her shoulders and dipped his head to skim his lips over the ridge of her collarbone.

  “Are you cold?”

  She shook her head.

  How could she be cold when there was so much heat pulsing through her veins? When her desire for him was a burning need deep in the pit of her belly?

  His mouth moved lower. He released the clasp at the front of her bra and pushed the lacy cups aside, exposing her breasts to the ministrations of his lips and teeth and tongue.

  She wasn’t a virgin, but no one had ever touched her the way he was touching her. The stroke of his hands was somehow both lazy and purposeful, as if he wanted nothing more than to show her how much he wanted her. And with every brush of his lips and every touch of his fingertips, she felt both desire and desired.

  Her hands raced over him, eagerly, desperately. She tore at his clothes, tossed them aside. She wanted to explore his hard muscles, to savor the warmth of his skin, to know the intimacy of his body joined with hers.

  Obviously he wanted the same thing, because he pulled away from her only long enough to strip away the last of his clothes and take a small square packet from his pocket.

  “I didn’t plan for this to happen tonight,” he told her. “But lately…well, I began to hope it would happen eventually and I wanted to be prepared.”

  “I’m glad one of us was,” she assured him.

  His fingers weren’t quite steady as he attempted to open the package, and he dropped it twice. The second time, he swore so fervently she couldn’t hold back a giggle. But he finally managed to sheath himself and rejoined her on the bed, nudging her thighs apart so that he could lower himself between them.

  “Will you do me a favor?” he asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “When you remember this night, will you edit out that part?”

  She smiled. “Absolutely.”

  But it was a lie. She had no intention of editing out any of the parts. She wanted to remember every little detail of every minute that she had with Michael. Because she didn’t have any illusions. She knew this couldn’t last. Maybe not even beyond this one night. But she wasn’t going to think about that now. She wasn’t going to ask for more than he could give. She was just going to enjoy the moment and know that it was enough.

  His tongue swirled around her nipple, then he drew the aching peak into his mouth and suckled, and she gasped with shock and pleasure. He shifted his attention to her other breast, making her gasp again.

  Oh yes, this was enough.

  Then his mouth found hers again in a kiss that tasted of hunger and passion. His tongue slid deep into her mouth, then slowly withdrew. Advance and retreat. It was a sensual tease designed to drive her wild, and it was succeeding.

  She whimpered as she instinctively shifted her hips, aching for the hard length of him between her thighs. Deep inside her.

  She rocked against him, wordlessly pleading.

  He entered her in one hard thrust, and her release was just as hard and fast. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her with an unexpected intensity that left her baffled and breathless.

  While her body was riding out the last aftershocks of pleasure, he began to move inside of her. Slow, steady strokes that started the anticipation building all over again.

  Had she honestly thought that this might not be enough?

  It was so much more than she’d expected, more than she’d even dared hope for, more than enough. And still, he somehow managed to give her more, to demand more, until it wasn’t just enough—it was too much.

  His thrusts were harder and faster now, and so deep she felt as if he was reaching into the very center of her soul. Harder and faster and deeper, until everything seemed to shatter in an explosion of heat and light and unfathomable pleasure.

  Michael didn’t know if he could move. He did know that he didn’t want to. His heart was still pounding like a jack-hammer and every muscle in his body ached, and yet he couldn’t remember ever feeling so good. So perfectly content to be right where he was.

  But his own contentment aside, he knew that Hannah probably couldn’t breathe with his weight sprawled on top of her. So he summoned enough energy to roll off of her. But he kept one arm draped across her waist, holding her close to his side. After another minute, he managed to prop himself up on an elbow so that he could look at her.

  Her hair was spread out over the pillow, her eyes were closed, her lips were slightly curved. She looked as if she’d been well and truly ravished, and he felt a surge of pure satisfaction that he’d had the pleasure of ravishing her. And he wanted to do so again.

  He stroked a finger down her cheek. Her eyelids slowly lifted, her lips parted on a sigh.

  “Dios, you’re beautiful.”

  She smiled at that. “Postcoital rose-colored glasses.”

  He shook his head. “Maybe I’ve never told you that before, but it’s true. Your skin is so soft and smooth, your lips are like pink rose petals and your eyes are all the shades of the stormy summer sky.”

  “I didn’t realize you had such a romantic streak, Your Highness,” she teased.

  “Neither did I.” His hand skimmed up her torso, from her waist to her breast, his thumb stroking over the tight bud of her nipple. “I always thought everything was black or white—and for the past few years, there’s been a lot more black than white. And then you came along and gave me a whole new perspective on a lot of things.”

  She arched into his palm, as if she wanted his touch as much as he wanted to touch her. She had incredible breasts. They were so full and round, and so delightfully responsive to his touch.

  Sam’s curves had been much more modest, and she’d often lamented her tomboy figure. Even when she’d been pregnant, her breasts had never—

  He froze.

  Her gaze lifted to his, confusion swirling in the depths of her blue-gray eyes.

  “Michael?”

  The unmistakable smoky tone of Hannah’s voice snapped him back to the present and helped him push aside any lingering thoughts of Sam. As much as he’d loved his wife and still grieved for the tragedy of a life cut so short, she was his past and Hannah—

  He wasn’t entirely sure yet what Hannah would be to him, but he knew that even if she wasn’t his future, she was at
least his present.

  He lowered his head to kiss her, softly, sweetly. And felt the tension slowly seep out of her body.

  Yes, she was definitely his present—an incredible gift. The only woman he wanted right now. And so he used his hands and his lips and his body and all of the hours until the sun began to rise to convince her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hannah didn’t expect that Michael would still be there when she woke up in the morning. She’d known he wouldn’t stay through the night. There was no way he would risk his daughter finding him there. But it would have been nice to wake up in his arms. To make love with him again as the sun was streaming through the windows.

  Making love with Michael had been the most incredible experience. He’d been attentive and eager and very thorough. She stretched her arms above her head, and felt her muscles protest. Very very thorough. But while her body was feeling all smug and sated, her mind was spinning.

  She’d been fighting against her feelings for the prince since the beginning, and she knew that making love with him was hardly going to help her win that battle. But as she showered and got ready for the day, she knew she didn’t regret it.

  After breakfast, while Riley was in the music room practicing piano—simply because she wanted to—Hannah was in the kitchen sipping on her second cup of coffee while Caridad was making a grocery list.

  “How many people are you planning to feed?” Hannah asked, when the housekeeper turned the page over to continue her list on the other side.

  “Only the three of you,” she admitted. “But I want to make several ready-to-heat meals that you can just take out of the freezer and pop in the microwave.”

  “Are you going somewhere?”

  “Just for a few days, and I’m not sure when, but I want to be ready to go as soon as Loretta calls.”

  Loretta, Hannah remembered now, was Caridad and Estavan’s second-oldest daughter who was expecting her first child—and their fourth grandchild. “When is she due?”

  “The eighteenth of August.”