The Prince's Royal Dilemma. Brenda Harlen
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Marcus frowned as he, too, turned away from the window. “Where is the heir to the throne?”
“In the library working on lessons he missed while he was absent from school.”
“He’s still a child, too.”
“It was his choice to get back to his studies.” He glanced up at his brother, forced a smile. “As you must get back to yours.”
“I will. Soon. I want to spend some more time with the kids before I go.” Marcus smiled as fresh peals of laughter sounded from outside. “And maybe with Lara, too.”
Rowan deliberately returned to his seat behind the desk, refusing to let himself be drawn into further discussion about the nanny. As far as he was concerned, Lara Brennan was just one more problem he’d inherited when his brother’s yacht blew up, and a problem that he needed some time to consider how to deal with.
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