THE EDENBOURG TATTLER

Word has it that Rowena Wilde, lady-in-waiting to Princess Isabel, has devoted herself to caring for the two-year-old son of gorgeous royal cousin Jake Stanbury—the number-one suspect in King Michael’s disappearance!—while the Americans are still on Edenbourg soil. However, what started as a simple “favor” seems to have escalated into something a bit more long-term—for Jake has just proposed marriage to the lovely virgin! But will a secret Rowena holds in her heart keep their temporary arrangement from becoming a lifetime commitment?

Now Nicholas is missing, too!

Or is he?

Code Name: Prince (SR#1516) by Valerie Parv

Dear Reader,

The year is off to a wonderful start in Silhouette Romance, and we’ve got some of our best stories yet for you right here.

Our tremendously successful ROYALLY WED series continues with The Blacksheep Prince’s Bride by Martha Shields. Our intrepid heroine—a lady-in-waiting for Princess Isabel—will do anything to help rescue the king. Even marry the single dad turned prince! And Judy Christenberry returns to Romance with Newborn Daddy. Poor Ryan didn’t know what he was missing, until he looked through the nursery window.…

Also this month, Teresa Southwick concludes her much-loved series about the Marchetti family in The Last Marchetti Bachelor. And popular author Elizabeth August gives us Slade’s Secret Son. Lisa hadn’t planned to tell Slade about their child. But with her life in danger, there’s only one man to turn to.…

Carla Cassidy’s tale of love and adventure is Lost in His Arms, while new-to-the-Romance-line Vivienne Wallington proves she’s anything but a beginning writer in this powerful story of a man Claiming His Bride.

Be sure to come back next month for Valerie Parv’s ROYALLY WED title as well as new stories by Sandra Steffen and Myrna Mackenzie. And Patricia Thayer will begin a brand-new series, THE TEXAS BROTHERHOOD.

Happy reading!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

The Blacksheep Prince’s Bride
Martha Shields

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Lisa Turner

Books by Martha Shields

Silhouette Romance

*Home Is Where Hank Is #1287

*And Cowboy Makes Three #1317

*The Million-Dollar Cowboy #1346

Husband Found #1377

The Princess and the Cowboy #1403

Lassoed! #1461

The Blacksheep Prince’s Bride #1510

MARTHA SHIELDS

grew up telling stories to her sister in the back seat of the family Rambler on the way to visit their grandparents in Florida. A way to pass the time turned into a love of words, which led to an education in journalism. Fresh out of college, Martha discovered romance novels and finally found a focus for her writing. Martha lives in Memphis, Tennessee, with her husband of over twenty years, a college-age daughter and a Cairn “terror” who can’t believe he’s not in Kansas anymore. During the day, Martha tries to make college courses sound exciting, and at night, she escapes the pressures of the day by weaving tales of romantic worlds, hoping readers can do the same.

You can keep up with Martha’s new releases via her Web site, which can be reached through the author page at www.eHarlequin.com.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

Rowena Wilde hated this house.

The Dowager Cottage was a dismal place. Built three centuries ago of native granite, the three-story “cottage” sat on the edge of the cliff like an old woman hunkered down against the storms blowing off the North Sea.

It was where extraneous queens grieved for lost husbands, relived former glory and waited to die.

As she stood with one hand wrapped around a cold iron spoke on the front gate, Rowena recalled the times she’d accompanied Princess Isabel as she visited her grandmother, who’d died three years ago. They’d sipped tea in the gloomy parlor with heavy velvet curtains shutting out the light. Though central heat had been installed years ago, the house was never warm. Even with a blazing fire. Even in the middle of July.

Rowena had known she’d have to stay here when she and Isabel had concocted this plan. Which was one reason she’d been half-hoping Jake Stanbury would refuse to accept her as his son’s nanny.

The cottage was full of ghosts, and Rowena had never been comfortable around ghosts.

The other reason, of course, was Jake.

Jake and the Dowager Cottage. Alone, each was a daunting prospect. Together…

Rowena shivered despite the bright April afternoon sunlight.

Both Jake and the cottage got her blood pumping, but for vastly different reasons—all related to fear.

Which was ridiculous.

Taking a deep breath, Rowena marshaled her inner resolve.

There was nothing to be afraid of. The cottage was just a pile of stone. She could dissipate the gloom by tearing down curtains and turning on lamps. And Jake…

Well, she was here for a reason. As long as she kept her mind on her purpose, she wouldn’t get sidetracked by feelings she understood all too well…and dreaded.

Rowena forced her lips into her customary smile. Her mother had always said that the best way to conquer fear was to smile your way through it. She’d learned a long time ago that her mother was right. As long as she was smiling, she couldn’t scream.

Rowena released the gate latch…wishing she didn’t feel like Sleeping Beauty about to prick her finger.

“I’m going to get you.”

Jake Stanbury stopped dead, his hand still on the knob of the massive, intricately carved front door. He recognized the voice immediately.

So Rowena Wilde had moved in.

The new nanny’s heavily sinister tone seemed to prove the possibility that had occurred to him when his royal cousin, Princess Isabel, had suggested her lady-in-waiting as caregiver for his two-year-old son—the possibility that Rowena had been placed in his household as a spy.

What the hell was he going to do now? Leave her here to poke through his papers and roam the dreary old house he’d been assigned when Sammy’s noisy antics became too much for the guests—notably Edward, his own father—in the palace apartment where they’d been staying? What if she rifled through his things while Sammy was around? Would she blithely tell the boy that his father was suspected of kidnapping the King of Edenbourg?

“I’ll find you, Sammy-Jammy. You just wait.”

Muffled giggling followed her words.

Relief flooded through Jake. They were playing a game.

Shaking his head, he closed the door and placed his briefcase on the chest in the foyer.

This is what the strain of the past month had brought him to—suspecting a sweet, beautiful young woman of playing Mata Hari. Probably the biggest intrigue Rowena had been involved in was finding the laundress responsible for scorching the princess’s favorite gown.

Jake stripped off his suit coat and laid it across his briefcase, then followed the happy sounds to the door of the formal parlor, heavily furnished in some Gothic style. Whoever had decorated this house either had eclectic tastes or access to the palace attic, because every room was decorated with a different period of antiques.

Blindfolded, her arms outstretched, Rowena wandered around the large room. Sammy peeked out from under an antique side table on the other side of the couch, one hand over his mouth to stem the tide of his laughter.

Blind Man’s Bluff. Such a simple game, but Jake had never thought to play it with his son, who was having such a good time he relieved Jake of any lingering suspicions. Sammy’s happiness was all that mattered.

Ever since Sammy’s mother had deserted them, his son had panic attacks every time Jake had to leave him with a sitter. Which was the main reason Jake needed a nanny.

He was determined to give his son a stable home. He’d been forced to use baby-sitters—strangers to Sammy—when he was out of the house, and had rarely managed to get the same one twice. Since Jake couldn’t be with Sammy twenty-four hours a day, he hoped having a live-in nanny would add stability to his son’s life.

Though he no longer had to work for a living, Jake’s expertise in mergers and acquisitions was in high demand. And there were some offers he couldn’t refuse. Like the one presented last week—as a consultant to Edenbourg’s acting king, his cousin, Nicholas.

The work was just a way to keep him busy. He knew it, and everyone else knew it. The suggestion that his expertise was needed by Nicholas was simply a way to save the royal family the embarrassment of asking him to turn over his passport so he couldn’t leave the country and return to America while they investigated any involvement he might have had in the king’s disappearance. His uncle’s disappearance.

Recognizing the frustrating path his thoughts were traveling down, Jake forced his attention back to the playful pair in the parlor.

Sammy’s giggling should’ve led Rowena right to him, of course, but she flailed around comically, running into tables and upsetting lamps and antique knickknacks which she pretended to barely catch in time. Her antics sent Sammy into fresh peals of laughter.

Jake couldn’t suppress a smile, though the tenderness melting his heart was all for his son. It definitely wasn’t for the petite, auburn-haired beauty bungling around his living room.

The only thing he felt for Rowena was gratitude. He finally had someone he could leave Sammy with—and feel good about it. Someone who’d already proved she could coax his son out of his panic attacks and shyness.

Jake leaned against the doorjamb to watch their antics, but straightened abruptly a moment later. Something was out of place. The only item in the room made during the last century was a shiny steel step stool…directly in Rowena’s path.

He didn’t have time to wonder what it was doing there. Vaulting over the couch, he launched himself off the side table just in time to catch Rowena as she stumbled into it.

Their combined momentum took them down, but Jake grabbed her waist and twisted so his back hit the floor first, taking her slight weight.

Rowena didn’t scream as they fell, just emitted a quick, “Oh!”

She landed flat on top of him, her legs straddling one of his, her nose buried in his chest. “What in the…?”

Because of the antique oriental rug covering the centuries-old oak floor, Jake wasn’t in enough pain to keep his body from reacting—especially when Rowena started squirming to free her hands.

Though his mind denied the feelings every time they surfaced, his body knew that he’d been attracted to Rowena since the instant he’d seen her. And now his body reminded his mind of every moment he’d indulged in sensuous fantasies about what his body wanted to do to her small but oh-so-curvaceous body.

He couldn’t remember having such a strong reaction to a woman. Ever. Including his ex-wife.

“Daddy’s home!”

His son’s cry doused enough flames for Jake’s mind to regain control.

He grabbed Rowena’s hips to keep them still…but it didn’t help. Having his hands on her bottom incited his libido just as much. Her curves were soft and warm, as was the sweet scent of roses wafting through his brain.

He could only hope she was too confused to notice what was happening between them.

When Rowena freed a hand and peeled back her blindfold, the instant of surprise lighting her long-lashed, wonderfully expressive, golden hazel eyes held a hint of pleasure. “Mr. Stanbury.”

Or was it another trick of his mind?

He couldn’t tell, because the pleasure was quickly masked with concern. “Where did you come from? Are you all right?”

Having clambered out from under the table, Sammy threw himself onto the pile.

Jake emitted a soft “oof” with the added weight.

Rowena struggled to rise. “Oh, dear. Sammy, please get off. We’re crushing your father.”

Jake smiled. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Rowena couldn’t free herself with Sammy half on top of her. “Allowing you to breathe is ridiculous?”

He chuckled. “The two of you together don’t weigh as much as one normal person.”

Her dark red-brown eyebrows drew together as if she couldn’t decide whether he was insulting or complimenting her. “And just how often do you have ‘normal’ people on top of you?”

“Often enough to tell,” he countered.

“Daddy, guess what?”

“What, Sammy?”

“Ena’s here.”

“I know.” Jake’s smile turned to a grin. “Her elbow is sticking into my ribs. Or is that your knee?”

“Why didn’t you say something?” She carefully extricated herself from between them.

“I did.” Jake sat up easily, bringing Sammy with him. He froze immediately.

Rowena had rolled to her knees and her silk blouse had pulled away from her chest. Jake had a clear vision of two wonderfully ripe breasts falling into a black silk bra that would’ve done Victoria’s Secret proud.

As he swallowed the thick lump which suddenly stopped his air supply, Sammy scrambled over to Rowena, who sat back Indian-style and patted the full skirt that modestly covered her legs. She smiled fondly and settled Sammy in her lap.

Though Jake felt deserted, he was glad Rowena was covered up, and that she was unaware of how much he wanted to slowly unbutton every silk-covered button and—

“Thank you for rescuing me, Mr. Stanbury. Although there was no need.”

Jake’s attention swung back to reality with a hard blink. “No need? You were about to break your neck.”

“I doubt it would’ve broken.” Her smile turned impish. “As you pointed out, I’m not very tall. Which means my neck is much closer to the ground than yours.”

Beautiful, funny and she could turn a joke on herself as well. Jake had always admired people who could laugh at themselves. He’d found it an indication of intelligence and self-confidence beyond the norm.

Damn.

What the hell was he doing sitting on the floor with her? The last thing he needed was to let his libido lead him down the path to destruction. He’d been there, done that.

Annette had taken his heart and ripped it into shreds—which she threw in his face as she walked out the door for a man with more money and more ambition.

And Jake had a sneaking suspicion that Rowena had more than beauty in common with Annette.

His cousin’s lady-in-waiting didn’t top the list of the hot palace buzz. The gossip was low-key and inconsistent. Still, Jake had made enough firsthand observations and gleaned enough information to piece together an unflattering picture.

Rowena dated more than a few of the diplomats and officials who visited Edenbourg, never going out with the same man more than a few times. But what was more important, she never dated anyone who didn’t have a title.

He’d learned too late that Annette had only married him because of his royal blood. Annette had learned too late that she wouldn’t benefit from his connections to the royal family of Edenbourg.

He was American through and through, and didn’t give a damn about a country he’d never visited, or a family who’d never so much as sent him a birthday card.

Rowena also had a flirtatious nature in common with Annette, which he’d witnessed on the few occasions she’d attended royal functions. She flitted around the palace rooms like a butterfly, bestowing her devastatingly bright, sweetly impish smile on every man there…except him. Because he didn’t have a title.

Jake shoved aside the irritation that realization always brought. He was glad she didn’t come on to him. It made it easier to listen to his brain rather than his libido. He was definitely not interested in having a relationship with her.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

He’d all but panicked when Isabel had suggested Rowena as his nanny. But since the proposal came from his royal cousin, he knew it was yet another offer he couldn’t refuse.

He’d been able to avoid close contact with the lovely lady-in-waiting for the month he’d been forced to stay in Edenbourg. And because he knew he couldn’t avoid her altogether if they lived in the same house, he’d planned to stay clear of her as much as possible when he was home.

He certainly hadn’t planned to take a tumble with her on the parlor floor the minute he walked through the door. Or to be sitting here longing to drag her onto his lap. He would snake one arm around her tiny waist, then with the other he’d stroke back her thick, richly-hued auburn hair and kiss the soft skin of the small, curving neck—

Damn.

Jake dragged his eyes away from the lovely neck she joked about. What was wrong with him? Sammy was sitting right there on her lap.

This was not starting out well.

The smart thing would be to stand up—now—dust himself off and make some excuse about paperwork.

Instead, he said, “Jake.”

“Pardon me?”

If he could’ve kicked himself in his traitorous mouth, he would’ve. His insistence on her calling him Jake had come in a moment of weakness…right after he’d agreed to accept her as Sammy’s nanny.

He’d had to take Sammy along with him to the palace one day when the sitter didn’t show. Isabel had simply nodded to Rowena, who stepped forward and charmed Sammy so much he allowed her to lead him away, all smiles. And his son had returned the same way. Right then, he’d known Rowena was worth her weight in platinum and he’d offered her the nanny job on the spot.

That was his excuse at the time. What was it now?

But…he had to finish what his mouth started. Didn’t he?

“When you agreed to stay here with Sammy, you also agreed to call me Jake, not Mr. Stanbury. We shook hands on it, remember?”

“Oh. That’s right.” The faintest blush touched her cheek, and she forced a smile. “I’m sorry…Jake. I just…I guess I didn’t want to seem forward.”

Her blush caught and held Jake’s attention. He’d never seen Annette blush. His ex-wife was so calculating that she was no longer capable of blushing.

Damn. Why did Rowena have to go and do that?

There’d been enough of these seemingly insignificant clues to keep him guessing. To keep him from believing—deep down—the conclusions he’d come to about Rowena. To keep him thinking that there was more to her than she wanted anyone to see.

Jake wanted to peel back the layers and search for the real woman beneath.

Unsettled by the revealing realization, Jake didn’t even try to keep sarcasm from his voice. “And you’re never forward, are you, Miss Wilde?”

Her face registered mild shock at his rude comment. She started to say something, then pressed her lips together and used them to place a kiss on Sammy’s head. From that position, she said softly, “If I have to call you Jake, then you should call me Rowena.”

Jake was too much a lawyer to be dragged from the subject so easily. “I—”

Suddenly a bright ray of light struck Jake’s eye, catching his attention. Glancing around, he saw afternoon sunlight streaming into the west-facing bank of windows, lighting up the room.

Then he saw why. The heavy velvet curtains had been taken down, though one at each window had been draped on the curtain rod as a swag. Not enough to get in the way, just enough to add a decorative touch.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, a bit defensively. “I couldn’t bear to live here in all the gloom.”

“Gwoom?” Sammy lifted his head to look straight up at her. “Whatsat?”

She peered down at him. “Remember how dark the room was before you helped me? Gloomy is just another word for that.”

“We do all rooms, right? You said?”

Rowena smoothed Sammy’s hair off his face, then glanced up at Jake. “If your father doesn’t mind.”

Jake let go of his pique. Rowena’s ambitions were no concern of his. “I guess that explains what the step stool is doing here. Yes, please take down as many curtains as you like. This is much better. I didn’t like it being so dark, either, but I didn’t realize I could do anything about it.”

She lifted a slender shoulder. “No one has lived here for three years. Every dowager queen redecorates when she moves in, anyway. I’m just saving Queen Josephine the trouble of—”

“What’s wrong?” Jake asked when she broke off suddenly.

Her eyes were wide as they met his. “I’m talking as if she’d be moving in soon. Which means I must think, deep down, that…”

“That my uncle is dead.”

She nodded fearfully.

Jake was touched by the tears in her eyes. Her emotion was sincere. He’d bet his next consulting fee on it. She really loved his uncle.

He wanted to lean forward and place a comforting hand on the arm wrapped around his son, but didn’t. “It’s frustrating to everyone, not knowing. I never met my uncle, but from what I’ve heard, he’s a good man.”

She searched his eyes, then asked, “You think he’s alive?”

Jake didn’t look away. “I don’t know. If he wasn’t, I think they would’ve found…some evidence.”

“You mean his—” Her gaze dropped to Sammy, then she sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“He’s okay,” Jake said. “I know you’re worried. I’m worried, too. Everyone’s worried.”

Their gazes met again, and held. Hers asked questions her lips wouldn’t.

Had he kidnapped…and killed…King Michael?

It was the first intimation that she might think so, and once again the possibility flitted across his mind that Rowena had been placed in his house to spy.

Jake wasn’t the only suspect, of course. His cousin, Nicholas, Jake’s father, Edward, and his older brother, Luke, were also considered to have motivation since they were first, second and third in line for the throne, respectively.

Jake was fourth in line, but because he’d been the first to see the smashed railing where the King’s car had skidded off a cliff and plummeted to the rocky beach below, he was at the top of the list of suspects. He’d called the police, which made him the first on the scene, and automatically made the odds on him rise considerably. At least in the eyes of the authorities.

He supposed he should be flattered that they considered him capable of such a momentous crime—which required significant finesse and forethought—all with a two-year-old in tow after barely having stepped off the plane.

But somehow, he wasn’t.

He believed the fabled Chamber of Riches—reputed to hold a king’s ransom in royal jewels—was just that…a fable. Obtaining the key to the Chamber was supposedly his motive.

Living here, Rowena would have ample opportunity to find any evidence linking him to his uncle’s disappearance, which had happened on the day Jake had landed in Edenbourg.

There wasn’t any evidence to find, of course, but they didn’t know that…yet.

The thought of Rowena going through his things while he was away made him want to open the front door and toss her straight out into the royal rose bushes.

Then he realized that wasn’t what he wanted to do at all. What he really wanted to do was convince her of his innocence. He wanted her to believe in him, to believe he wasn’t capable of killing anyone, much less his uncle. Even one he’d never met.

Damn. This definitely was not starting out well.

Rowena was the first to look away. “What time would you like dinner?”

Her question startled him. “You’re going to cook?”

She nodded. “Mrs. Hanson left as soon as I arrived this afternoon. I think she was a bit miffed that you left Sammy with her.”

A spy who cooked? That was unique…unless she was planning to poison him. But he didn’t think she was here to do away with him, just to see what he knew about the king’s disappearance.

“I know she was upset with me, but I didn’t arrange for yet another baby-sitter because I thought you’d be moved in by noon.”

“I’m sorry. Something came up with Isabel.”

“I understand.”

Jake pressed a thumb into his temple. The strain really was getting to him. Rowena was no spy. She was a lady-in-waiting, a glorified maid who happened to be very good with children. She was here as a nanny, not a spy.

That was why they had him up at the palace the best part of every day. So the ones who were qualified could watch him in the comfort of their own home.

“You don’t have to cook. Why don’t you go get yours and Sammy’s things and we’ll go to a restaurant. Know a good one?”

She stared at him as if he’d turned blue. “You want me to come with you?”

“You don’t want to?”

“It’s not that. It’s just…Why?”

Her amazement surprised him. Surely she’d gone to fancy restaurants on all her high-powered dates. “I don’t know. Because you’re hungry?”

She cocked her face and peered at him sideways. “I’d rather cook, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Fine. I just wanted to save you the trouble. You’ve been with Sammy all afternoon, and I know how exhausting that can be.” He butted Sammy’s knee with a fist. “No offense, little guy.”

Sammy giggled.

“I’m fine,” Rowena insisted. “And don’t worry. I won’t poison you. I cooked all my father’s meals after my mother died when I was twelve. I’m quite a good cook.”

“I didn’t think…” He glanced away guilty. The thought had occurred to him. “Never mind.”

Her words relieved the last vestiges of suspicion, and Jake’s stomach chose that moment to grumble about not eating since breakfast.

Rowena chuckled, and finally relaxed. “It’s not your mind that’s complaining.”

“You really don’t have to cook, you know.”

“Tell that to your stomach.” With a hand on Sammy’s bottom, she pushed him to his feet. “Sammy and I laid out everything in the kitchen. It will only take half an hour.”

Since she was determined, Jake rose and held out a hand.

She paused with both hands on the floor, glanced at his hand, then up at him.

“It won’t poison you,” he said softly.

She didn’t retort, or even smile. After a noticeable hesitation, she gingerly placed her hand in his.

Jake wrapped his long fingers around her slender hand and pulled her to her feet. Her weight was so slight and he was feeling so unnerved, he miscalculated and pulled with enough force to yank her against him.

“Oh,” they said in unison.

She lifted her head, then they both went still.

Her startled golden gaze mesmerized him, narrowing his awareness to the space around them. Her lips could be featured in an ad for collagen injections. They were lusciously moist and slightly parted in surprise. Her breathing was shallow and rapid.

She trembled ever so slightly in his arms. With fear? Desire? Both?

Jake could feel her left fist digging into his chest. Her right hand was still captured in his left. Her slight weight leaned into him, one leg braced between his.

He wanted to do far more than kiss her, and the feeling jarred him back to reality.

He couldn’t touch her. She was too much like Annette.

She stepped back a second before he let her go.

Without glancing up, she murmured, “Sorry. I’ll…I’ll…Oh yes. I’ll go prepare dinner.”

He watched as she fled the room.

Her discomfiture told him two things. She was attracted to him as well, and she was fighting it just as hard.

The only reason for that he could come up with was that he didn’t have a title.

“Daddy, play with me.”

Jake turned his attention to his son, convinced he’d done the right thing.

Rowena knocked softly, then pushed open the door between the dining room and the parlor with the intention of telling Jake and Sammy their dinner was ready.

Instead, she hesitated.

Father and son were sitting together in a burgundy damask wingback chair by a window open to let in a soft spring breeze and the sound of the surf below. The last rays of the sun caught the side of Jake’s face, making the strong lines seem even more angular.

Jake’s long legs were stretched out on an ottoman as he concentrated on a stack of papers in his lap. He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves and tucked his son into the crook of his left arm.

Sammy’s little legs barely reached the end of the chair cushion. His attention was riveted on a book laid open across his own lap. He turned the pages slowly and carefully.

Rowena’s face relaxed into a smile. What a heartwarming picture they made. A loving father and an adoring son.

How could such a man have kidnapped the king? His very own uncle? Family seemed important to Jake. She’d never seen a father as attentive as he was to Sammy. And though his overtures were hesitant, he took every opportunity to spend time with his newfound cousins.

Was that all for show?

Rowena shook away the tender feelings.

Jake was a suspect in the king’s disappearance. That’s what she had to concentrate on—trying to find evidence that would incriminate him, which would exonerate Isabel’s brother, Nicholas.

Rowena had promised Isabel she’d search high and low for evidence…but now that she was here, she found it difficult to believe Jake capable of such a crime—which meant she had to concentrate doubly hard on her purpose in being here.

Even if she hadn’t already known, the incident earlier had proven she was strongly attracted to Jake. She’d almost pushed up on her toes and kissed the man…right there in front of Sammy.

Her stupid attraction was the reason she didn’t believe he was guilty. She didn’t want to believe it. That, and the unhappy realization that finding Jake guilty—a man who loved his son so much—would leave Sammy fatherless.

Concentrating wasn’t going to be easy. When she’d felt his obvious reaction to her lying on top of him, all she could think of was wiggling her way up his body and planting her lips on his. Thank God he’d held her in place. Though she’d enjoyed the intimacy of his hands on her derriere, the caress had distracted her long enough for her to pull her wits together and stop.

Who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t?

He wanted her. That was plain enough. After he’d pulled her to her feet, he’d almost kissed her. She was as certain of that as she was of her name.

But he didn’t want to want her—and his sarcastic question had told her why.

You’re never forward, are you, Miss Wilde?

He didn’t trust her because of her reputation.

Rowena’s nails dug into her palms.

How long would Prince Heinrich’s duplicity haunt her?

She’d given her heart to the royal rake from Leuvendan five years ago. He’d visited often back then, wooing her passionately. But when she wouldn’t sleep with him, he became angry and told everyone that she had anyway, giving them ugly, nasty details from his sick imagination.

That incident, it seemed, had branded her for life. Edenbourg—especially the palace—was a small place. Everyone knew everyone else’s secrets…and never forgot.

Many men who came to Edenbourg wanted to date her—either despite her reputation or because of it. She went out with some of them, mostly to keep Isabel happy. But she never slept with a single one—partly to prove she was not the wanton everyone thought her, partly because she just didn’t want to.

However, her celibacy didn’t help. A few of the men were too honorable to talk about their relationship, but most were too egocentric to let everyone think the woman who slept with everyone else wouldn’t sleep with them.

She couldn’t win.

Although…

In this situation, perhaps her undeserved reputation would protect her. She was far too attracted to Jake. Though good fathers weren’t often rakes, he was still royal. At least, close enough to count.

She’d promised herself that she’d never fall in love again…but especially not with a royal, or any man with a title. They were too self-absorbed, too accustomed to getting their own way.

So, let him believe she was “forward.”

As for her, she had to focus on the task she had to perform for her country, for Isabel.

It didn’t matter that the task came with shoulders as wide as the horizon, sky-blue eyes capable of peering all the way into her soul, and chiseled lips that demanded, “Kiss me.”

Those lips might also be capable of saying, “Kill him,” to some thug as he looked a king straight in the eye.

Rowena shivered.

She hated this house. It was always cold.

Chapter Two

Later that evening, Jake held Sammy’s door open for Rowena.

She tiptoed out and waited for him to close it softly.

He turned and looked down at her in the dim light of the hallway. Though they hadn’t been in the same room since dinner, he’d felt her presence in the house all evening. A subtle awareness, a whiff of her lingering scent, a trill of laughter from another end of the house.

He was aware of her now, intensely, as he’d been while they’d put Sammy to bed.

“Goodnight, Mr. Stanbury,” she said with a nervous smile, then turned to leave.

“It’s only eight-thirty,” he said quickly, reluctant to let her go. “Surely you’re not turning in so early?”

She lifted a slender shoulder. “I have a book in my room.”

He waved a hand toward the stairs. “I’m going to work in the library. You’re welcome to read down there.”

She glanced toward the stairs, then back at him. Her eyes zeroed in on his lips, as if she were remembering the kiss they’d almost shared that afternoon.

He hadn’t been able to think about anything else all evening. And if she came with him to the library, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on his work.

Why had he asked her?

Because he didn’t want to concentrate on his work. The zing in his blood, put there by the presence of this small woman, was infinitely more interesting than international trade briefs.

“No, I shouldn’t.” Her words sounded breathless.

He should just let her go, but he couldn’t. “Why not?”

She seemed surprised that he pushed it. “It’s just not a good idea.”

Let it go, Jake. Let her go. “Why not?”

She frowned at him. “Because you’re a prince and I’m a servant. That kind of…fraternization is frowned upon.”

“Perhaps a hundred years ago, but not today.”

“We don’t do things here the way you do in the United States. Here, we treat our royalty like royalty.” She squared her shoulders. “Besides, I want to concentrate on my book. I think I’ve guessed who the murderer is and he’s about to be revealed. So goodnight, Mr. Stanbury. Have a pleasant evening.”

She spun on her heel and walked down the hall to the next room, which was now hers. He watched her every stiff step of the way.

Just as she opened the door, he said, “It’s Jake, Rowena. Remember that.”

At his words, she hesitated just long enough for him to know she had to make herself go into her room.

When her door closed with a loud click, he headed down the stairs.

“Daddy! Guess what?”

Rowena glanced over her shoulder as she reached for the coffeepot…and caught her breath.

Tousled and unshaven, Jake stood in the kitchen doorway, staring at her blankly. “Oh. Rowena. I forgot…I heard noise down here and thought Sammy was trying to make breakfast himself. Mrs. Hanson only cooks lunch and dinner.”

He was dressed only in pajama bottoms. Since they weren’t rumpled, Rowena knew that he’d thrown them on to rush downstairs…which meant he slept in the nude.

She swallowed with difficulty. That was a little too much information for her comfort zone.

Her gaze wandered over the light mat of dark hair covering his broad, well-defined chest. “I…” She had to swallow to open her suddenly constricted throat. “I know.”

The only place she’d ever seen such a beautiful body on a man was in the pages of fashion magazines. Edenbourg’s rocky beaches were not exactly a mecca for sunbathers.

“Guess what, Daddy?” Sammy held up his plate. “Ena made me waffles. Booberry.”

“She did?” Jake frowned at his son, who had syrup all over his hands and mouth, then glanced up. “I usually fix breakfast.”

“I know.” Rowena couldn’t manage a more coherent answer. She could barely manage to breathe.

Though his eyes were slightly red and his hair hadn’t been combed, Jake was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Or was it because of his dishabille that he was sexy?

“Nothing this fancy, though. These look good.” Jake picked a bite of waffle from his son’s plate. “Oh yeah. These are great.”

“I know.”

“I usually just fix toast or something.”

Jake licked the syrup from his fingers, and Rowena couldn’t stop her eyes from following the movements. Her hands clenched, and she wondered what would it feel like to lick the sweetness off those long fingers herself. “I know.”

“Or fry up some toad tongues.”

“I—”

“Ewwww, Daddy!”

Rowena’s attention snapped back into place like a stretched rubber band…with the same sharp sting.

Jake leaned over Sammy, looking at her with one eyebrow lifted.

What was wrong with her? Never in her life had she had a thought like that. Lick syrup off a man’s fingers? What was she thinking?

The worst part was—Jake’s smile said he knew exactly what she’d been thinking.

Damn.

“Or lizards’ gizzards.”

Sammy giggled. “You do not!”

“Or—”

“I get it.” Rowena fought the urge to touch her blazing cheeks. She’d been caught staring. She’d been around the palace long enough to know how rude—not to mention how dangerous—staring at a man was. She could either apologize or change the subject. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Coffee?” He grinned knowingly, but took her bait. “Sure. Does it come with a waffle?”

She relaxed. “If you like. Plain or—”

“Any more booberries?”

Rowena smiled. She could certainly see where Sammy got his sense of fun. “If you like. But I have to warn you, they’re not fresh this time of year. They’re frozen.”

“Doesn’t matter to me. They taste good in the waffles.” She smiled as she poured him a cup of coffee, pleased by his compliment. “How many would you like?”

“Is two too many?”

“For a growing boy like you? I don’t think so.”

“Growing boy?” Sammy asked. “Daddy?”

Jake tousled his son’s hair and began pulling out a chair to sit down. “With many breakfasts like this, I’ll be doing plenty of growing…sideways.”

Rowena cleared her throat. “Two waffles will take me just long enough for you to shower and put on some clothes.” She placed the coffee in his hands. “You can take this with you.”

“Black?” He glanced up from the mug. “I like my coffee sweet.” He grinned. “Just like I like my—”

She cut him off. “Sugar is on the table. There’s cream in the icebox.”

“—waffles.”

Her eyes narrowed. What was he doing? Flirting with her? And what had last night been about? Read with him in the library? Sharing the space like a married couple?

“I’m sticky,” Sammy announced, drawing both their attention. “I’m gonna wash.”

Rowena pushed away from the counter. “I’ll come with—”

“No, Ena.” He paused at the door, placing his sticky hand on the jamb. “I’m a big boy. I do it.”

She watched her charge desert her.

“His third birthday is still three months away,” Jake said. “So he’s just beginning to make it out of the terrible twos. He’s as stubborn as…” He grinned. “…his dad.”

Uneasy alone with Jake, Rowena picked up a washcloth and walked over to wipe the syrup off the doorjamb.

Jake turned toward the icebox. “I’m sorry if I shocked you. I just couldn’t resist teasing. You seemed so surprised to discover that I have a chest.”

So he was teasing, not flirting. Thank God.

“I was…a little,” she admitted, but wouldn’t admit to herself even a trace of disappointment. “Men don’t wander around the palace half-naked, as a rule. Especially not the royals.”

Jake pulled open the door of the icebox—it had probably been bought when they still called them that—and reached inside for the cream. “How long have you worked there?”

“Since I was nineteen. Seven years.”

He poured a heavy dose of cream into his coffee. “Have you worked for Isabel the whole time?”

Rowena nodded. “I dreamed of working in the palace since I was little. Isabel needed a lady-in-waiting when she turned twenty-one, and my father knew someone on the palace staff who got me an interview. We clicked immediately, and I’ve been with her ever since.”

He heaped three teaspoons of sugar in his coffee and stirred thoughtfully. Without glancing up, he asked, “Any…fringe benefits?”

“Like what? Insurance? Paid vacations?”

His eyes were narrow when he looked up. He stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. “Never mind. Do you like the job?”

“Of course I do. Isabel has become a good friend.”

“Then why are you here?”

Rowena walked back to the sink to rinse out the dishcloth. She’d known this question was coming and had a ready answer. “I’m here because Sammy needs someone to take care of him. Someone who’s around more than the occasional sitter. Isn’t that why you asked for a nanny?”

“Yes…but why you?”

“There is a distinct shortage of qualified nannies in Edenbourg. Even baby-sitters, for that matter. Our unemployment rate is so low that our daycare workers are paid much higher than those in the States.”

“And just what are your qualifications?”

“You didn’t ask Isabel when she suggested to you that I come?”

“Answer the question, please.”

“Yes, Mr. Barrister.” She raised a brow to let him know she recognized his arrogance. “I worked in child care during secondary school. And…” she shrugged “…children seem to like me.”

“Sammy certainly does. I’m amazed at how much you’ve brought him out already.”

“Then why are you worried?”

Jake shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “I’m his father. It’s my job.”

She sighed. “I’m here because I like children. I really do like Sammy. And Isabel asked me to help, since you might be here a while. I’d do anything for her. She’s as dear to me as a sister.”

“I might be here a while.” Jake pounced on her offhand comment. “Why? Because I’m guilty?”

Rowena could’ve kicked herself. “Guilty of what?”

“Of kidnapping the king.”

The lawyer in Jake was definitely showing. Blunt, and to the point. “Did I say that?”

“Do you think it?”

She studied him across the oak table, and decided she could be just as blunt. “Are you?”

“No,” came the quick reply.

Rowena was amazed. Not because he denied it, because she believed him. “Then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?”

“I’m not a citizen of this country, and evidence can be manufactured.”

She waved his concern away. “Edenbourg is not a third-world country ruled by a despot. We may have dungeons in our castles, but they haven’t been used in at least a hundred years.”

“But you—”

“I was told you’re working with Prince Nicholas on the revised trade agreement with the European Union, and that’s why you’ll be here a while.”

He did not look convinced. “You and I both know—”

“All clean.” Sammy held up his hands as he appeared in the doorway.

Rowena brightened with more relief than pride in Sammy’s accomplishment. “Great job. Want to help me fix your papa’s waffles?”

“Oh boy! I mash booberries, ’kay?”

Rowena dragged the step stool so Sammy could reach the counter. “Well, we don’t mash them. But you can pick out the best ones.”

The next time she glanced toward the door, Jake was gone.

Two days later, Jake settled back against the stone railing of the terrace overlooking the palace gardens and crossed his arms over his chest. He adopted this body language a lot, he’d noticed, when he was in the company of his father and brother.

He usually made a conscious effort to uncross everything, but within a few moments, something else was crossed.

“Jake, you’re not listening,” Edward Stanbury said.

Jake stifled a sigh. His father was as bad as his two-year-old, wanting attention focused on him at all times. The only problem was, his father was fifty-five. “Yes, I am. You’re agreeing with Luke that we shouldn’t support Nicholas’s position on the immigration clause.”

“You let a foreign underclass in,” Luke sniffed, “and you open yourself to all kinds of criminal activity.”

“That’s not necessarily true. Meanwhile, with an economy as strong as Edenbourg’s, menial jobs go begging for workers.”

“Yes, but what happens when the economy weakens?” his father argued. “Once you let these people in, it’s harder than hell to boot them out again.”

“And if you don’t have jobs to give them, you have to support them.” Luke lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in Jake’s face. “They’re a liability any way you look at it.”

Jake didn’t flinch against his brother’s stream of smoke. He’d learned a long time ago it was best not to let Luke know he was getting under his skin. “They’re not always a liability. Having a full workforce will strengthen the economy, so it doesn’t get weak. Right now, Edenbourg is begging for workers in the lower-paying jobs. It’s worse here than in the States because, as a rule, Edenbourg citizens have a higher level of education.”

“You always were soft on…” Luke’s attention focused on something behind Jake. He whistled lecherously. “Now there’s something that’s not a liability…in any country.”

It had to be a sexy woman. Jake glanced over his shoulder. His brother was too predictable.

A woman was bent over a child at the edge of the small pond about a hundred yards away, giving them a view of a well-rounded rear end.

“Damn, they grow ’em right over here, don’t they?” Luke tossed down his cigarette. “I think I should go show that sweet young thing just how friendly Americans can be.”

The woman straightened then, and the sun glinted off deep red highlights in her dark hair.

Rowena.

Jake grabbed his brother’s arm. “That’s Sammy with his new nanny.”

“Well, I’ll be…” For once, Luke didn’t finish his vulgarity. “No wonder you’ve been antsy to go home the last couple of nights.”

“Isn’t that Princess Isabel’s lady-in-waiting?” Edward asked. “What’s her name?”

“Rowena Wilde.” Jake released his handful of Luke’s pinpoint cotton shirt. “And the reason I go home at night is to spend time with my son.”

“Yeah, right.” Luke grinned. “So when are you going to invite your father and brother home for supper? Is she a good cook, as well?”

“As a matter of fact, she—” Suddenly, Jake stiffened.

Rowena and Sammy were disappearing around the end of the pond, heading for an arbor swing on the other side. From his vantage point above the gardens, Jake could see something Rowena couldn’t.

Hidden by a hedgerow and running straight toward them was an enormous mastiff.

“What’s wrong?” Edward asked.

“Sammy’s afraid of dogs.”

Jake bolted down the terrace and took the endless layers of stone steps three at a time. Heart pounding in dread, he vaulted over rose bushes and blasted through a hedge. Still, it took several minutes for him to reach the pond.

When he did, what he saw was so far from the bloody, screaming carnage he expected to see, he skidded to a halt.

Rowena knelt on the ground next to Sammy. The dog sat facing them, tongue lolling, his huge paw lifted and placed in Sammy’s hand by Rowena.

His little boy, who’d always been terrified of dogs of any size, was giggling. Actually giggling.

As Jake gaped, Rowena lifted her gaze and her beautiful smile widened. “There’s your papa.”

Sammy dropped the dog’s paw as he turned. “Daddy, guess what? See my doggie? His name’s Boo-Boo.”

Finally able to move, Jake walked over and knelt beside his son. He casually patted the dog’s head. “Yes, indeed, Sammy. I do see the dog. Boo-Boo is a very nice dog.”

“His name is Booten Sebastian Cabot the Fourth,” Rowena said with a laugh in her lilting voice. “But that’s a bit much for a little mouth.”

Sammy mimicked his father by stroking Boo-Boo’s head. “Good doggie.”

“How did you manage this?” Jake couldn’t keep the amazement from his voice. “Sammy’s always been…a bit leery of dogs.”

“This brave little man?” She gave Sammy a hug. “He just needed to see how much dogs are like we are. All they want is a little love.”

Boo-Boo butted her arm with his nose.

Rowena laughed and scratched the dog behind his ears. “All right, a lot of love. Isn’t that right, you big old baby?”

“Big baby!” Sammy cried, laughing. “Isn’t he, Daddy?”

Jake scratched the dog’s deep chest. “He sure is.”

Boo-Boo gave a little howl, loving all the attention.

Sammy giggled and helped Jake scratch the mastiff’s chest. “Can Boo-Boo go to our house?”

“Not today, Sammy,” Jake said. “But I’m sure you can visit Boo-Boo any time.”

“Of course he can.” Rowena stood and held onto the dog’s collar. “As a matter of fact, my father’s cairn just had a litter of puppies. Is it all right if I take Sammy to see them tomorrow?”

Jake stood, too, and picked Sammy up. “Where does your father live?”

“In a village called Kempten. It’s about half an hour’s drive.”

“You drive?”

“Of course I drive. I can take a car from the palace garage any time.” She placed a hand over her brow to shade her eyes from the early afternoon sun as she looked up at him. “Would you like to go with us?”

As he gazed down at her lovely, upturned face, Jake realized he very much wanted to go.

During the past couple of days, he’d discovered that he liked Rowena’s method of handling children. Laughter mixed with positive comments rather than frowns and criticism. And she’d just performed a miracle with Sammy.

He wanted to see the man who’d raised her. She must be very loved, to have so much love to give.

To children, of course.

“It would do you good, to get out of the palace for a while,” she said. “Have you seen much of Edenbourg?”

“Just the road from the airport to Old Stanbury.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “You’re the one who found the king’s car, aren’t you?”

Jake stiffened. “Yes. Why?”

“It’s just that the coastline road is not the shortest route from the airport to here.”

Jake frowned. Luke had provided him with directions from the airport.

“Are the puppies like Boo-Boo?” Sammy asked.

Rowena smiled. “No, they’re a lot smaller. Papa has a Cairn terrier. He bought her when he and I went to Scotland on vacation several years ago.”

Jake let go of what was bothering him about the airport road. “Cairn?”

“Ever seen the Wizard of Oz?” Rowena asked.

“Who hasn’t?”

“Toto was a cairn.”

“Toto!” Sammy cried.

“Have you seen the Wizard of Oz, Sammy?”

Jake nodded. “We watched part of it a couple of months ago. Until the witch got a little too much for…um…me to take.”

Laughter brightened Rowena’s dark golden eyes. “She scares me, too.”

“Me, too,” Sammy admitted.

“Are you going in to the palace?” Jake asked, turning to let her precede him.

Rowena still held onto the dog’s collar. “I need to take Boo-Boo back to the kennel.”

Sammy struggled against Jake’s hold. “I wanna go with Ena.”

Jake held on with difficulty. Sometimes holding on to his son was like trying to hold on to an eel in a vat of oil. “I don’t know, Sammy.”

Rowena met Jake’s gaze with an “I agree with you” nod. “Tell you what, Sammy. Go with your papa. I’ll be back in just a minute, and I’ll take you to see the pool inside the palace. It was built a hundred and fifty years ago.”

Sammy was clearly torn, but reluctantly agreed. “’Kay, Ena.”

Before there could be any more discussion, Jake turned toward the palace.

Sammy watched Rowena over Jake’s shoulder. “Guess what, Daddy?”

“What, Sammy?”

“We go see her puppies tomorrow, right?”

Jake gave his son a hug. “Right, Sammy. Tomorrow we’ll go see her daddy’s puppies.”

Sammy slipped his arm around Jake’s neck. “You, too. Right, Daddy?”

“Yes, Sammy. Me, too.”

With a contented sigh, Sammy laid his head on Jake’s shoulder.

Jake’s heart turned over. He didn’t care what was going on in the negotiations tomorrow, he was going to see Rowena’s puppies.

With Sammy, of course. Just for Sammy.

Chapter Three

As they rounded a mountain curve the next morning several miles outside Edenbourg’s capital city of Old Stanbury, Jake settled back into the passenger seat of the Mercedes sedan marked with royal license plates.

“Finally,” Rowena muttered from behind the wheel.

“Finally what?”

“You’ve been sitting on the edge of your seat since we left the palace. Not an easy thing to do with a seat belt on.”

“Sorry.”

“Did you think I was going to kill us all?”

Actually, he hadn’t given her driving a thought, though he’d offered to take the wheel before they left the garage on the way to her father’s village of Kempton. The reason he’d finally relaxed was he just felt the chains break that had held him in the palace.

Now that she mentioned it, though, her driving was excellent.

“You’re a better driver than I thought you’d be.”

“Why would you think I wouldn’t be a good driver?”

He shrugged. “How often do you drive? You seem to be stuck in the palace as much as I am, and probably you have a driver if you go somewhere with the princess.”

She threw a sharp glance his way. “I haven’t gone out much lately, it’s true. Things have been hectic since the king disappeared. Isabel has needed me more than usual. But in normal times, I drive to see my father at least once a week.”

“You don’t even own a car.”

“You Americans.” Rowena smiled as she navigated a hairpin curve that overlooked a view of an impossibly green valley with a quaint village crawling up the side of a rocky mountain. “Can’t survive without at least one vehicle in the garage. Why should I give myself the expense of a car when I can check one out of the royal garage any time? You could, too, you know. You’re not a prisoner. You could borrow a palace car and take Sammy anywhere.”

“Anywhere on the island, you mean.” He didn’t mean to sound bitter.

“Well, if I do say so myself, Edenbourg is a beautiful country. We have many sites of interest, whether you like history or nature or the arts….”

“Anything a two-year-old might be interested in?”

“Sammy’s almost three, isn’t he?”

“Yes, in three months.”

“He certainly speaks well for his age.”

“I know. He started talking around ten months. Partly, I think, because he had to verbalize his needs.” He glanced in the back. Sammy wasn’t paying any attention to them. “Annette wasn’t the most…attentive of mothers.”

“That’s so—Oh, look. Here’s something that will interest a two-year-old.” She slowed the car. “Sammy, look. See the deer? That’s a red doe. And look! She has two spotted babies.”

“Where?” Sammy craned his neck from his car seat behind them. Rowena had procured one tall enough for Sammy to see out of the windows easily.

“There, through the trees.”

“I see them!” Sammy cried. “Can I pet baby deers?”

“Sorry, Sammy.” Rowena smiled over her shoulder. “They’re not like Boo-Boo. They’re wild. If you tried to get close to them, they’d run away.”

“Are they scared of me?”

“Yes, they are.”

“They think I hurt them?”

“Yes, like you used to run away because you thought dogs would hurt you. They don’t know that all you want to do is love them. Oh. There they go.”

“Where?” Sammy asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe they went home to see their papa.” Rowena eased on the accelerator.

Seconds later, Sammy said, “Ena, guess what?”

“Yes, Sammy?”

“I’m not afraid of dogs.”

“I know you’re not.” She beamed at him in the rearview mirror. “Why?”

“’Cause all they wanna do is love me.”

“You’re such a brave boy, Sammy. I’m proud of you. And your papa is proud of you, too. Aren’t you, Jake?”

Jake twisted so his son could see the pride in his eyes. “I’m very proud of you, Sammy. And I love you very much.”

“I know, Daddy.”

As he turned back around, Jake’s attention was caught by Rowena’s profile. For such a small woman, she had a strong face…and a strong mind to match.

She glanced over and caught him staring. “What?”

“You should be a child psychologist…or a mother.”

A flinch passed over her face so quickly, he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t a shadow thrown by a tree they passed.

“I don’t think so,” she said.

“You don’t think…which one?”

“Either.”

“You don’t want children? I can’t believe that. You’re such a wonderful mother to kids who aren’t even your own…and you seem to love them.”

“I do love children. They still believe that wonderful, magical things can happen.”

“Like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny?”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t want children of your own.”

“I just…” Her face tightened, and she kept her eyes firmly on the road. “I don’t want to talk about it, all right?”

“Can’t you have children?” Once again, Rowena’s reputation reared its ugly head. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t married yet. Titled men needed heirs.

“I…” She glanced pointedly in the rearview mirror.

Jake turned to check on Sammy, who was absorbed in an antique toy soldier Rowena had borrowed from the palace nursery. His son was paying them no attention whatsoever. Rowena was not going to find an out there. “He’s not listening.”

“How do you—”

“Rowena, is that it? Can you not have children?”

The look she finally threw at him would’ve melted Jake on the spot if he were ice cream. “Why are you interrogating me? Am I on the witness stand? Have I done something wrong?”

“No, of course not.” Jake settled back against his seat again, but didn’t take his eyes off her. He had no idea why knowing this was so important to him. But somehow, it was. “I’d just like to know.”

“At the risk of being rude, Mr. Stanbury, the state of my reproductive organs is none of your business.”

He stared at the delicate curve of her cheek. “Why do you always do that?”

“What?”

“Anytime I ask something personal, you call me Mr. Stanbury.”

“That’s your name, isn’t it?”

Jake was too good a lawyer to be sidetracked. “You’re trying to remind me that you’re my employee. It’s as if you…”

He trailed off.

It’s as if she hid behind her servant’s mask. As if she held it up like a shield anytime someone tried to get close. The way she had done the other night when he’d suggested she read in the library.

He frowned. That didn’t jive with the image he had of her. Someone wanting to marry a title would play down—not emphasize—her lower status.

“As if I what?”

But now that he thought about the times he’d seen Rowena in a roomful of people, she’d been flitting around, yes, but there seemed to be a method to her flightiness. She would talk to every man in the room—except him, of course—but only for a moment. And she was usually carrying a tray of something, using it as a barrier between her and the men obviously interested in her.

It was as if she knew that behind her shield, she could flirt all she wanted…and still be safe.

“As if what?” she repeated.

He met her worried glance until her gaze was pulled back by the demanding road.

He didn’t want to play this hand just yet. He needed to test his theory…to see if he could determine her motivation. As a lawyer, he’d learned that motivation was everything. With the right motivation—right, at least, in their minds—people were capable of committing terrible crimes…even against themselves.

He knew Rowena wouldn’t be satisfied with a brush-off, so he’d distract her by making her angry. “As if you enjoy being a servant. As if you love pointing out your inferiority.”

On cue, she bristled. “I’m not inferior. Just different.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m a nanny, and you’re a prince.”

“I’m American. Americans don’t have titles.”

“You’re fourth in line for the throne. Third if the king…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence, and he couldn’t blame her, but for another reason. “The last thing in the world I want is the throne of Edenbourg.”

She glanced at him carefully. “You don’t want to be king?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I just quit one high-stress job so I could raise my son. I certainly don’t want to jump in the middle of one with twenty-four-hour stress.”

She brought the car to a halt at the entrance to a roundabout and studied him as if she couldn’t decide whether or not she could believe him. Her expression reminded him of his suspicion about why she’d been placed in his household. Was she there to ascertain his involvement in the king’s disappearance…or just to take care of his son?

“It’s a lot of money,” she pointed out as she eased into the empty roundabout.

He shrugged. “I have plenty of money.”

“Not this much. Just think about how much the crown jewels are worth.”

“You mean the fabulous riches locked up in some vault somewhere that no one can enter but the king and his heir, enough to buy the world two times over?”

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