Fariq frowned down at Crystal as his chest rose and fell, his breathing uneven. “You are full of surprises,” he said. “As passionate and bright and mysterious as the desert.”

Her heart was racing and her pulse pounded in her ears. She didn’t know what to say. “Fariq, I—”

He let out a long breath as he touched the rim of her sunglasses. “My little jewel of the desert…let me see your eyes.”

He was going to take off her glasses? Suddenly adrenaline rushed through her, putting her mental circuits back online. She backed away from him, out of the circle of his arms. Her skin was clear of everything but sunscreen. Not a speck of makeup. But her hair was hanging around her face and she didn’t have on her long, shapeless clothes. Sunglasses were the only part of her disguise in place, her last defense.

And defense was definitely what she needed.

DESERT BRIDES

To Kiss a Sheikh
Teresa Southwick

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TERESA SOUTHWICK

lives in Southern California with her hero husband, who is more than happy to share with her the male point of view. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Silhouette Books. Teresa has also written historical romances under the same name.

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 One

She felt like Clark Kent on a bad day.

Crystal Rawlins adjusted her large, ugly glasses making sure they covered as much of her face as possible. She wasn’t used to this limitation to her peripheral vision, but it was necessary for her disguise. Now it was showtime.

“I’m Crystal Rawlins,” she said to His Highness, Fariq Hassan, as they stood in his office, his polished, cherrywood desk beside them.

“Yes. The new nanny. Welcome to El Zafir, Miss Rawlins. I am pleased to meet you.”

He was the flesh-and-blood definition of tall, dark and wow. He could be the model for the handsome prince in a fairy tale. Smiling politely, he extended his hand.

Shake hands with the devil.

The unwitting thought raced through her mind as Crystal put her palm in his much larger one. She had no idea if he was a devil. But she discovered that his elegant fingers were warm and strong as he applied firm pressure to her own. For some reason, she hadn’t been prepared for his touch. The contact, although brief, sent her already fidgety nerves into a tap dance.

Normally when she reported for her first day on a job, she was wearing carefully applied makeup and an outfit that made her feel professional and confident. But this wasn’t like any job she’d ever had in terms of circumstances, money or importance. And the stakes had never been so high before. In a twist of fate that defied logic, looking her best could get her fired. If that happened, who would pay her mother’s medical bills? Creditors were threatening to take everything she owned—including the house Crystal had grown up in—and it wasn’t going to happen on her watch.

“I am very pleased to meet you at last, Your Highness. I’ve done some research and discovered many wonderful things about your country. I’m grateful for the opportunity to work here.”

He was studying her. “Even though the contract is for three years? Vacations aside, it is a long time to be away from your home.”

“Job security is a good thing.”

He nodded approvingly. “It is indeed. As is stability for my children.”

“Your aunt said keeping the position filled has been a problem. Five nannies in a year, I believe?”

“Yes.” He frowned.

“I assure you that I have every intention of fulfilling my contract.”

“Good. I can see why my aunt spoke so highly of you after your meeting with her in New York.”

“Princess Farrah has excellent taste—” She stopped. That sounded terribly egotistical, and not at all what she’d meant. “That is, the princess seemed a fastidious and perceptive woman with excellent taste in fashion.”

“Also nannies, I hope.”

“And nephews,” she mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

She looked around, taking a moment to catch her breath before her nerves started to show. Until that slip, she thought she’d managed to sound calm and in control. It was an act to go along with the new look.

“I said ‘and here.’ What a nice place you’ve got.”

“Thank you.”

Fariq was the father of the five-year-old twins she’d been hired to look after. It was important to get off on the right foot—and the left foot. She’d expected first-day-on-the-job jitters, but not like this; he was disturbingly good-looking. But she’d always believed beauty was only skin deep. Character came from within. This was her chance to put her money where her mouth was.

She was face to face with her boss, who, if not the best-looking man she’d ever seen, was certainly in the top three, and all she had going for her was her naked face. What she wouldn’t give for the crutch of cosmetics, or the props of high-heeled pumps and a tailored business suit.

Crystal was trying to pull off a plain appearance, as stated in the list of requirements for this position. That was a challenge for a former beauty queen, the pride and joy of her hometown, Pullman, Washington—population nine thousand when the university was in summer session. In that other life, success was all about appearance. This was the flip side of the coin—her moment of truth. Would the prince see past the hideous glasses, shapeless long-skirted navy suit, sturdy sensible shoes and hair pulled back from her face so tightly she looked like an ad for the facelift doctor not to use?

If he did, she would be sent packing, without the very generous salary that was the main reason she’d come here; the other reason being the opportunity to travel and experience life. That reason was important to her mother and had been the only way Crystal could get her to accept financial help.

“Please have a seat, Miss Rawlins.” He held out his hand, indicating the chair in front of his desk.

“Thank you.”

She sat and resisted the inclination to sigh in ecstasy at the soft, supple leather of the barrel-back chair.

“So,” he said, rounding his desk, then sitting behind it. He met her gaze. “How was your trip from—” he looked down at what was probably her employment paperwork “—Washington? The home of delicious apples, I believe.”

“Not in Pullman. It’s wheat—all wheat all the time. And my trip was very long, Your Highness. I lost track of how many time zones I crossed.”

“Yes.”

Fariq Hassan was the middle of King Gamil’s three sons and apparently didn’t waste words. Her research on the fabulously wealthy royal family of this near-idyllic Middle-Eastern country revealed that they didn’t keep an especially low social profile. His younger brother, Rafiq, was something of a playboy. The eldest son, Crown Prince Kamal, heir to the country’s throne, was considered by the press to be the most eligible royal bachelor. And Fariq was a widower, sought after by some of the world’s most beautiful jet-setting women.

No wonder. It had taken her all of ten seconds to research the fact that Fariq was probably the best-looking prince she’d ever laid eyes on. Not as flippant as it sounded since he was the only prince she’d ever laid eyes on. But she’d seen pictures of all three Hassan brothers in tabloids and magazines. They could be trouble in triplicate to female hearts.

In addition to his tall, powerful physique, number two sheik’s black hair and smoldering good looks made it a real challenge to take her eyes off him. And Crystal took great satisfaction in her recently acquired skill of overlooking a handsome face. Just as Clark Kent was invulnerable to anything but Kryptonite, she was impervious to the charms of your average, ordinary, everyday, run-of-the-mill normal hunk. But Fariq Hassan was so not average, ordinary, everyday or normal.

“Are you recovered from your trip?” he asked politely.

“I’m getting there. Yesterday I felt like something the cat dragged in,” she admitted. “I probably looked that way, too,” she added, testing the waters.

“I’m sure that wasn’t the case.”

“You’re very kind. And I’m grateful for the chance to acclimate. I very much appreciated the time to rest up in order to make a favorable impression on you and the children.”

“Tell me about your experience with children.”

He studied her carefully but his eyes gave no hint of anything besides normal curiosity. If anyone had learned to pick up a blip of masculine interest on her feminine radar it was Crystal. She’d had enough unwelcome practice and she’d made up her mind not to be arm candy ever again. His neutral reaction was a sign her masquerade was working. So why was she vaguely disappointed that he didn’t find her the tiniest bit attractive?

“I paid my way through college with money I earned doing child care.” And scholarship money for placing second in a local beauty pageant. “My degree is in elementary education. After graduation, I took a position for a year with a well-to-do family in Seattle. You probably have my letters of recommendation in front of you.”

“Your references are impeccable. A degree in education?” he asked, meeting her gaze.

Those black eyes of his seemed to see right through her. Like X-ray vision. She might be a Clark Kent in training, but which one of them was really a super hero in disguise?

“Eventually I’d like to teach.” She sat up as tall as she possibly could and pulled her shoulders back, meeting his gaze in what was her best I’ve-got-nothing-to-hide attitude.

“You have no desire for a family of your own?” One midnight-dark eyebrow lifted.

“Someday. But there are things I want to do before love, marriage and children.”

“In that order?”

“What other order would there be?”

A corner of his mouth curved upward. “Children then marriage.”

Her cheeks grew hot at the suggestion of bedding before wedding. That arrangement raised no eyebrows in this day and age and she didn’t judge anyone else for it. But there was something about talking so intimately with this man that just made her burn all over.

She shifted in her leather chair, then met his gaze. “Your Highness, I’m not so naive that I don’t know this happens. But not to me.”

“I see. But don’t American women pride themselves on the ability to have a career and family at the same time? What is the point in waiting, Miss Rawlins?”

“Because that’s not the way I want to do it. I adore children, which is why I chose a career in education. And when I have my own, I intend to stay home and raise them. But when the time is right, I’ll go back to work. My teaching schedule will allow me to spend holidays and vacations with my children.”

“Ah. A planner. Very organized.” He frowned.

“You disapprove?”

“On the contrary. I find the characteristic quite refreshing.”

He didn’t look as if he found it refreshing. He looked as though he didn’t believe her. She clasped her hands together and rested them in the her lap. “May I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“Forgive me if this sounds impertinent, but as an educator I’ve learned it’s important to create an atmosphere where no question is perceived as stupid.”

His mouth turned up. “I see. Now that you’ve qualified yourself, please, ask your stupid question.”

She wasn’t quite sure if he was laughing at her or not. But she decided not to let it put her off. She was who she was, and because of his children, they would be dealing with each other. It was important for him to be clear on the fact that she was a woman who spoke her mind.

“It’s not actually a stupid question. It’s along the lines of a stupid clarification. This…talk we’re having feels more like an interview than a meet-and-greet.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know—we introduce ourselves and you welcome me to your country. Which you’ve done quite nicely. But I was under the impression that I’d already been hired for the position.”

He nodded. “Aunt Farrah was most impressed with you, and I respect her opinion very much. But these are my children, Miss Rawlins. The final decision is mine.”

“So if you disagree with Princess Farrah—”

“You will be on the first plane back to the United States,” he stated bluntly.

“Which brings up another question.”

“A stupid one?” He flashed a grin taking any sting—perceived or otherwise—from the words.

“I…I hope not.” She cleared her throat. “Why did you require an American nanny? Why not a woman from your own country, familiar with El Zafirian customs?”

“I will teach my children about their country. As will the rest of my family. But many of our business dealings are in the West, and, by virtue of their birth, Hana and Nuri will be involved in service to El Zafir. They will be required to interact with representatives of America. You will be able to prepare them for this, which someone from my country could not. It is a requirement I think very important.”

She swallowed. “About the position’s qualifications, Your Highness.”

“They were not plain enough?”

“Interesting you phrased it that way. May I ask why a plain woman is required?”

“Actually I believe the phrasing was ‘a plain, unobtrusive American woman with some intelligence, who is good with children.”’

Crystal figured she could be as unobtrusive as the next woman and it had taken a reasonable degree of smarts for her to get through college. She was the youngest of five children, and all of her older siblings had kids she adored. The “good with children” part she wasn’t worried about. It was the “plain” part that puzzled her.

For fun she’d looked up the definition which ranged from discreet and simple to ugly and unattractive. Did he realize that she could be insulted by the phrasing? Mostly she was curious.

“I understand the significance of the rest. But your aunt didn’t explain why ‘plain’ is important.”

“Because beautiful women are…” He hesitated and his eyes turned hard—icy and hot at the same time. His mouth thinned to a straight line.

“Are what?” she asked, shivering at the expression on his face.

“An unwelcome distraction.”

“I see.”

She’d expected arrogance. She’d prepared herself for arrogance. She hadn’t been disappointed. Still, until she’d brought up the current subject, his royal arrogance had exuded a warmth and politeness that she found disarming and completely charming. His sudden coolness told her he had a story, and it wouldn’t surprise her if a beautiful woman was involved. She was curious to know what had happened to him. And she might just be here long enough to find out—if he didn’t see through her disguise and send her packing.

Then his comment really sank in and pushed her buttons. Beautiful women an unwelcome distraction? It was no fault of his if he became distracted? A knot of annoyance tightened inside her. Apparently there was no way to adequately prepare for his brand of arrogance. She was raised to take responsibility for her actions, but maybe a sheik could get away with blaming others for his flaws.

“Your Highness,” she began. “Let me make sure I understand. If you are unable to stay on task, as we say in the education field, it is the fault of the woman—if she happens to be beautiful?”

Again she lifted her chin and met his gaze straight on, letting him get a good look at her. If her disguise couldn’t hold up under scrutiny, it was best to know now. She’d considered a wig, buck teeth and a fake wart on her nose. In this situation, she felt simplicity was the cornerstone of success. Yet she’d always been unable to suspend her disbelief when no one could tell that Clark Kent was who he really was—merely because he slicked down his hair and wore unappealing glasses. There was still that mouthwatering body. A hunk by any other name… Right?

She didn’t consider herself beautiful—not in the leagues Prince Fariq Hassan played in. But back home she’d had her share of attention, not all positive. She had the scars to prove it. She didn’t think her looks, or lack thereof, should be the basis for whether or not she was qualified to care for his children.

They stared at each other for several moments, and she wished he would say something. She figured this was where her mouth had yet again written a check her cockiness couldn’t cash. Still, it was better to know now—for both of them. And especially for the children.

“Let me see if I understand the question,” he said. There was a gleam in his eyes that could be humor. “If I am unable to concentrate in the presence of a beautiful woman you are asking who’s to blame?”

“That about sums it up.”

“It’s her fault, of course.”

Again she didn’t know whether or not he was joking and decided to behave as if he wasn’t. “Then there’s something you need to know about me before we go any further.”

He folded his hands together, then placed them on his desk as he leaned forward. “What is that?”

“The foundation of my philosophy in dealing with children is that one always needs to take responsibility for one’s actions.”

“And there’s something you should know about me.”

“What is that?”

“I’m not a child. And I’m never wrong.”

He was so inherently masculine in such a very primal way that his first statement bordered on ludicrous. “Duh” was her instinctive mental response and nearly distracted her from the swagger in his second statement. Never wrong?

“It’s always good to know where your employer stands on an issue,” she said. “Assuming you still are my employer. Or that I’m your employee.” She held her breath.

“I think my aunt has chosen well. You’ll do nicely.”

Crystal realized she should have been elated that she’d passed muster. She was in. Hired. She’d cleared the hurdle. Before meeting the prince it was what she’d hoped to do. Unfortunately, now that her job was in the bag, she felt oddly deflated at her rousing success. He believed she was as plain as she pretended. How about them apples?

Most people associated all of Washington state with apples. Even Fariq had. Which just goes to show you should never assume anything. But he took her clothes, hair and glasses at face value and looked no further.

She sighed. Oddly enough, she felt that life could be compared to an apple—at its core. You could always count on the fact that there were seeds to spit or swallow and Fariq was hers. And yet she had to respect the man. In spite of a thumbs-up from a trusted family member and the fact that people in his position paid others to raise their children, he loved his kids so much he’d insisted on meeting her. It was obviously important to him to see for himself and approve of the person who would care for them.

“I’m very anxious to meet the children,” she said. If this were an interview, she would be guilty of leading it. But technically it wasn’t. And she was eager to meet her charges.

“I will take you to them and introduce you.” There was a note of pride in his voice and a tender look in his eyes.

He stood and rounded the desk, then held out his arm indicating she should precede him. She stopped at the heavy wooden door. At the same time they both reached out to open it, and their hands touched.

“Allow me,” he said. His butterscotch-and-brandy voice made her shiver.

“Thank you.”

In the hall outside his office, she looked around. Her low-heeled shoes sank into the thick, plush carpet. Wood paneling lined walls hung with ornately framed enhanced photos of El Zafir in various stages of development.

In all her life she’d never seen such luxury as she had since arriving at the palace. Marble floors, grand staircases, a fountain in the foyer, lush gardens. There were sinfully expensive furnishings and gold fixtures everywhere—priceless art, paintings, vases and tapestries, oh, my.

And big. The number of rooms in this place would give an army of Molly Maids a lifetime of job security. Not to mention a girl could walk off a whole lot of chocolate indulgence here. “Wow” didn’t do justice to her feelings, but it was the first word that kept coming to mind.

When she’d arrived in the business wing for her meeting with the prince, her nerves had obscured her surroundings. Now that she’d passed the first hurdle, she noticed a lot more. There were four offices. The king’s was first, then the crown prince, followed by Fariq’s, where she now stood. To her right at the end of the hall was the last one, and she guessed it belonged to Rafiq, the youngest of the brothers. She thought she heard children’s voices, then shrieks of laughter.

Glancing up—way up—at her employer and guide, she cocked her thumb in the direction of the noise and said, “They went thataway.”

“A reference to the B-Westerns of your country,” he commented.

“You know the expression.”

“I attended college and graduate school in America.”

“Of course. I knew that.”

They turned into the last office and there on the leather sofa against the wall sat two children and a man who could only be Fariq’s brother. A little girl sat on one knee and was messing up his hair. At the same time Prince Rafiq was tickling the boy who occupied his other knee, the child shrieking with laughter at the same time he begged him to stop. No doubt these were the five-year-old twins who would be in her care.

“And they say men are incapable of multitasking,” Crystal couldn’t resist saying.

Fariq lifted one eyebrow. “Guard the secret well.”

The gleam in his eyes and the smile curving his lips told her he was teasing and capable of humor. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with the information and didn’t have a chance to figure it out. Suddenly the boy and girl squealed.

“Papa!” the children said at the same time.

They jumped off the couch and ran to him, each wrapping their arms around one of his long legs. He bent at the waist and embraced them.

“Hello, little one,” he said, running a knuckle tenderly down his daughter’s nose. She looked up at him adoringly. “And you.” He grinned at his son as he ruffled the boy’s hair. “There’s someone here who wants to meet you,” he said. Suddenly two pairs of very dark, very curious and just a bit shy eyes were turned on her. “This is Miss Rawlins. What do you say?”

“Hi,” the boy glanced up at his father. “I mean how do you do?”

Fariq nodded approvingly.

The little girl still clutched his leg. “How do you do?” she mimicked her brother.

The prince smiled tenderly at his daughter then angled his chin toward the other man. “That poor excuse for a nanny is my younger brother Rafiq.”

“Your Highness,” she said, acknowledging the adult introduction first.

The prince stood and ran his hands through his disheveled hair, attempting to correct the damage his niece had inflicted. Any man who would play with children at the expense of his appearance was all right in her book.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Rawlins,” he said, extending his hand.

“And you, Your—”

“Call me Rafiq. I insist,” he said before she could protest.

“Thank you.” She looked first at the boy, then his sister. “This must be Nuri and Hana.”

“How did you know our names?” the little girl asked, clearly impressed. She blinked huge, beautiful black eyes fringed by exceptionally long thick lashes.

In fifteen years, probably less, the male population of El Zafir had better hang on to their hearts with both hands, Crystal thought. “Your Aunt Farrah told me. When I met her in New York, she showed me pictures of you both.”

“Your glasses are very large,” Nuri said. “And very ugly.” He was as handsome as his sister was beautiful and had no doubt picked up a dash of arrogance from his father.

“You’re very observant,” she said dryly.

“Your hair is too tight,” Hana said.

“It only looks that way,” Crystal answered quickly. But the beginnings of a headache put a lie to her words.

“Does it hurt?” Hana asked, studying her intently.

“No.” Crystal looked from one tall man to the other, then fixed a gaze on the children’s father. “May I ask a question, Your—”

“Fariq,” he said. “My brother is correct. There’s no need for formality in private. And I will call you Crystal.”

“All right. Fariq.” She tested the name and found she very much liked the exotic sound.

“Is it a stupid question?” he asked, with a look she now knew meant he was joking.

“You’re going to make me regret that remark, aren’t you?” she said, smiling. “Never mind. I’ll risk it. I was just wondering if you take the children to work with you often.”

“You mean because they are here with my brother,” he stated. “The answer to that question is no. But my little brother offered to pick up the slack, as you Americans say. Because he blames himself for the last nanny’s sudden and less-than-dignified departure.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” the other man protested, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Don’t fib, uncle,” Nuri said. “Nanny was in your bed.”

“How do you know that?” The stern facade was destroyed by his half smile.

“Aunt Farrah told grandfather,” the boy explained. “Then he said the new one must be a dried-up old prune.”

“How did you hear that?” Fariq’s tone was disapproving.

“Nuri was hiding behind Aunt Farrah’s sofa again,” Hana cheerfully volunteered. She looked shyly at Crystal. “I’m glad you’re not old or dried up.”

“That goes double for me,” Crystal said, grateful that someone in the royal family could see the forest for the trees.

“Little one, you shouldn’t tattle on your brother,” the prince admonished his daughter.

“Even if it’s the truth and he’s naughty?” the girl wanted to know.

“Even so,” he explained. “Family loyalty is a treasure.”

Fariq enjoyed the embarrassed exasperation clearly visible on his brother’s face and struggled not to laugh at his son’s words. He’d been unaware that the boy knew details of the former nanny’s downfall, but it was the truth. A word to the wise would be in order, he thought, watching Crystal carefully observing his brother. He wondered what she was thinking.

Fariq cleared his throat. “Like every woman Rafiq meets, the former nanny developed a crush on him. Her actions were an effort to garner his regard. The resulting attention was probably not what she’d had in mind.”

Crystal’s eyes widened. “I think I can guess what that attention was since I’m here and she’s not.”

“Instant dismissal,” Rafiq confirmed. “I talked the king out of beheading her.”

Hana giggled. “You’re fibbing again, Uncle.”

“Yes, little one. Your uncle is quite the fibber,” Fariq agreed. “He claims to have rebuffed her advances.”

“It is the truth,” he protested. “Innocently, I walked into my room and there she was. I immediately turned and walked out again. Father believed me.”

“The king was uninterested in explanations,” Fariq said to Crystal. “He ordered my brother to cease and desist flirting with the staff and to find a wife and settle down. His exact words were that he didn’t want justice, merely peace and quiet.”

“I can understand why,” she answered.

“But there was still the matter of no nanny.” And the necessity of finding another. Since the twins’ own mother was gone. That thought was followed by a familiar twist of anger. The woman still had the power to arouse his ire, further stoking his displeasure.

Fariq looked at his new nanny. “I was in negotiations to bring a hotel and a well-known, upscale department store to El Zafir. It was decided that Aunt Farrah would go to the world-renown employment agency in New York.”

Fariq hadn’t disagreed with his father’s stipulation. In fact, he’d thought the addition to the list of qualifications a good idea. He had no wish to deal with a woman hiding a duplicitous heart by flaunting the face of an angel. Once had been enough.

He decided Crystal was exactly what the king had in mind when he’d made his decree. And his children had a keen eye for detail, he thought proudly. Her glasses were indeed very large and ugly, but they couldn’t quite hide her engaging, hazel eyes. Cat’s eyes. They shimmered with intelligence and humor. He’d seen through her spectacles, although they did conceal a good deal of the upper half of her face. Still, the skin he could see was flawless and smooth.

Her hair was brown, and the severe style hid any possible attractive shadings. It did look quite painful. He wouldn’t be surprised if her eyebrows behind the glasses had a permanent, quizzical arch to them. But he couldn’t fault her for having a single strand of hair out of place.

Her loose-fitting navy skirt skimmed her ankles and was topped by a matching jacket that he couldn’t help wishing was a bit shorter and more tailored—so that he might get a better idea of her shape. The ankles he could see showed great potential for the rest of her legs hidden from his view. And he was a bit curious about the exact contour of the limbs attached to the ankles with such potential. But curiosity killed the cat, he reminded himself. Therefore he should be grateful for the conservative attire that restricted his view. Because he needed a nanny, and his aunt had assured him Crystal was perfect.

He had to agree. He liked her forthright manner. Lack of pretense was a character trait he’d learned to value the hard way. Crystal said what she was thinking. It was most refreshing.

Then there was the sense of humor she’d revealed in their conversation. It was evidence of a lively and quick mind. He found he liked her and the thought raised a warning. Which he chose to overlook. It merely meant that their interaction regarding the children would be more efficient. If those encounters had the potential to be the slightest bit entertaining, he would merely ignore any pleasurable sensations.

He agreed with his aunt. She seemed perfect. Except for one small thing—her smile. He’d seen it a few minutes ago when her lips had curved upward revealing straight, white teeth, and he’d found the expression quite lovely.

When Crystal smiled again, this time a tender look for his daughter, Fariq felt an odd sensation in his chest. He attempted to disregard it as he listened to her soft, clear, melodic voice. She exuded warmth and a nurturing spirit. Something important for the children. Nothing else mattered.

Crystal bent to look directly at the child. “Hana, I agree with your father about tattling. But I also remember how good it feels to get something on your brother.”

“You have a brother, Crystal?” Rafiq asked.

“Four,” she clarified, straightening. “I’m the youngest. And I’m ashamed to admit I was a bit of a tattler in my day.”

Fariq looked at her. “How did your brothers deal with that?”

“Not well. But there wasn’t much they could do after my dad ordered them not to lay a hand on me. ‘You don’t hit girls,’ he always said.”

“A man who would strike a woman is swine,” Rafiq agreed.

“According to my father he’s worse than the stuff cleaned out of swine cages,” she said.

“Your father is undoubtedly an honorable man.” Which boded well for his raising an honorable daughter. Fariq met her gaze. “My country has no tolerance for abusers of women. The transgression is dealt with severely.”

“As are lies and deceit,” Rafiq interjected self-righteously.

Fariq caught a look on Crystal’s face and thought her lovely skin paled. He looked at his brother and asked, “What are you talking about?”

“Your lies and deceit have corrupted my good name. I am an honorable man who speaks only the truth. I do not know why our father holds me responsible for that woman’s reprehensible behavior. It’s not my fault.”

“What was it Shakespeare said about protesting too much?” Fariq asked.

But maybe his brother couldn’t help it that women found him charming. It was easy if one had never been deceived and played for a fool. When that happened, a wise man went out of his way not to attract attention from the opposite sex.

Rafiq looked at Crystal. “Do you think I’m the kind of man who would be dishonest?”

“I hardly know you,” she answered. Then she blinked and her eyes widened. “What I meant to say is—”

“Never mind,” Fariq interrupted. “No need to sugarcoat it as you Americans say. Your first answer was accurate.”

“So get to know me,” Rafiq invited. “At dinner tonight. The whole family will be there. Decide for yourself.”

Here he goes again, Fariq thought. Ever the charmer. But for some reason, his brother’s attentiveness toward Crystal bothered him. Was it her artless remark about the order of love, marriage and children? Damn him. She was far too innocent to deal with Rafiq’s flirtations.

“Yes, please,” Hana said, putting her hands together in a gesture of supplication directed at Crystal.

Fariq knew his daughter. The little girl who didn’t usually trust easily had taken to this woman right away. “My brother is correct. You must meet the family. Dinner is at seven.”

“Very well. Thank you.”

She said the correct words easily. But Fariq wondered why his newest employee looked more as if she’d been sentenced to a beheading in the Casbah square. He would make it a point to find out.

Chapter Two

Four hours ago Crystal had left the palace business wing pale as a ghost after receiving an invitation from her boss to dine with the entire royal family. Now she was sitting at their table wondering if any color had returned to her face. Even the fact that she was eminently qualified for the nanny position didn’t make her feel better about taking her ruse out for a test drive in front of the entire family. For goodness’ sake, Rafiq had joked about beheading the last nanny. He’d looked as if he was kidding, but many a truth was spoken in jest.

“I believe the new nanny is a fraud.” Princess Farrah studied her.

Crystal froze. Heart pounding, she ceased and desisted rubbing the gold edge on her china dinner plate and felt that if any color had returned to her cheeks, it had just drained away again. She forced herself to meet the princess’ gaze. “Excuse me?”

“You’re quiet—not at all the vivacious young woman you were when we met in New York.”

Okay. Royal humor through exaggeration. She tucked the info away. “According to my mother it’s always better to not say anything and risk being thought simpleminded than to open your mouth and prove it.”

“A wise woman, your mother,” King Gamil commented.

“Yes, she is.”

Crystal glanced to her left toward the head of the table where the king sat watching her. She guessed his age to be somewhere in his mid to late fifties. He was still quite handsome, and the silver glistening at his temples also streaked his black hair, giving a distinguished air to his good looks. Her mother would have said he worked for her in a big way.

Vicki Rawlins would have loved dining with the royal family of El Zafir. Married and a mother before saying goodbye to her teens, she’d frequently vocalized her regrets at never experiencing life outside of Pullman, Washington. After Crystal graduated from college, her parents had finally been in a position to do the traveling her mother had always longed for. But that wasn’t to be. They’d divorced, shocking everyone. Then there’d been her mother’s devastating car accident, followed by a slow, painful and expensive recovery.

In spite of that, or maybe because of it, she’d encouraged her youngest child and only daughter to do everything she wanted before settling down with a husband and starting a family. She’d been giddy with excitement when she’d learned about Crystal snagging this job. That and the generous salary were the reasons Crystal was so determined to make this employment experience a success. Failure was not an option. She’d rather be beheaded.

“The fact you are so quiet,” the king continued, “does this mean you are not enjoying yourself this evening?”

“On the contrary, Your Majesty. I’ve never had such a wonderful dinner.”

It was being scrutinized by the entire royal family that had her nervous as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs.

“I’m glad you are enjoying the food.” The king set down his gold fork.

“And the company is exemplary, too,” she said.

Glancing around the table, she noted that the king’s sons had inherited superior DNA, probably from their good-looking and distinguished father. During the cocktail hour before dinner, she had finally met Crown Prince Kamal, the third of the three princes. Like his brothers, he was tall, dark and devilishly handsome. Although, in her humble opinion, Fariq was by far the best looking. But anyone could see the royal family of El Zafir was extremely photogenic, which was no doubt one of the reasons they frequently appeared in the tabloids.

Princess Farrah was the king’s sister and seemed to fill the family post of feminine guiding hand for the widower. Her age was impossible to guess. She could be anywhere from forty to sixty, although Crystal leaned toward the low end. The woman looked fabulous with her dark hair stylishly cut into a sleek style that barely brushed the collar of her royal-blue Chanel suit. Her black eyes appeared huge with the assistance of subtle cosmetics.

Princess Johara, the king’s youngest child and only daughter, was seventeen. She was a strikingly lovely girl with large black eyes and a delicate look. She sat on the same side of the table with Crystal. Hana was between them with Nuri on the teen’s other side.

“I can’t help feeling there’s another reason for your restraint,” Fariq commented. “Something other than caution.”

“Really?” she said, stalling. The man was far too perceptive for her own good.

“Is it possible that you are intimidated by your surroundings?” he asked.

“Me? Intimidated?”

She was a small-town girl from eastern Washington. Tonight her surroundings included the entire royal family of an oil-rich country swiftly emerging onto the world stage. She was in a large room filled with the most expensive furnishings she’d ever seen. Candles flickered in crystal wall sconces, and fragrant flowers graced the dining table, as well as numerous arrangements artfully placed on occasional tables. The cloth covering the dining table probably cost more than she could earn in a month. It would be just her luck to spill something on it in front of the entire royal family and stain the sucker so badly even homemaker high priestess Martha Stewart would have no removal remedy.

Hysterical laughter threatened. Crystal managed to hold it back as she glanced around the table, a surface so long and flat it made her wonder if the royal pilot could land the royal jet on it. She wasn’t a country bumpkin by any means, but these surroundings were intimidating. Her frame of reference lacked anything on this scale.

For goodness’ sake, the china was edged in gold, the real, honest-to-goodness, solid twenty-four karat variety. Intimidated? She felt like a sumo wrestler in a tearoom.

“Now that you mention it,” she said meeting Fariq’s amused gaze, “I am a tad overwhelmed by my surroundings.”

“Please don’t be,” Princess Farrah said. “We’re just normal people.”

“Define normal.” Crystal laughed. “Your Highness, My family has never had a cocktail hour before dinner and formal dress is T-shirt, jeans and sneakers.”

She glanced down at her plain, unflattering drab brown dress and sighed. Even if she’d known after-five attire was required for the job, she couldn’t have worn anything that flattered her. Beside her, Hana slid from her chair and ducked beneath the table to retrieve the napkin that had slipped off her lap.

The king frowned as he cleared his throat. “Perhaps we are a bit more formal that the average family. But I join with Farrah in urging you to relax and be yourself. May I say my sister did an admirable job in hiring you. I think you’ll make a splendid nanny for Nuri. And perhaps Hana if she comes out from beneath the table,” he said disapprovingly.

The little girl put a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle as she looked up at Crystal. She wished she’d already assumed her full duties so she could rescue these restless children and get them ready for bed. But she wasn’t to take over until tomorrow. At least the two five-year-olds were still in good spirits. If that changed, she would have to say something. After winking at the little girl, she patted the chair beside her and the child scrambled into it.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I appreciate your endorsement.” She smiled at him and let out a breath.

Her adrenaline was beginning to settle after spiking off the scale from the “fraud” remark. So far, so good. No one had seen past the ugly glasses and tasteless clothes. She should be grateful. She should be exhilarated. She should be doing the dance of joy. But she wasn’t. And that confused her.

“May I inquire where you went to school?” Kamal asked. He was more serious than his brothers. Rafiq was friendly and charming. Fariq was sedate, although he’d revealed the humor lurking behind his reserved exterior. But she had yet to see Kamal crack a smile.

“I went to the University of Washington.”

“What did you study?” he asked.

“I majored in elementary education with a minor in childhood behavior.”

“What other attributes qualify you to look after my niece and nephew?” he asked.

She glanced at Fariq and was sure there was the hint of amusement in his gaze. Here we go again, she thought. It felt like yet another interview. This was the third time. Dare she hope it was the charm?

“I worked my way through college taking care of children for well-to-do families during summer and winter breaks. I believe my references are included with the résumé I gave Princess Farrah.”

“I will look them over,” Kamal said.

Crystal wondered if these people ever communicated with each other or simply repeated everything because they were conscientious overachievers. She couldn’t resist a question of her own as she gazed around the table. “Is there anyone else who wants to interview me and make certain I’m qualified?” she asked sweetly.

Princess Farrah waved her hand in dismissal. “Don’t let the Hassan men frighten you, my dear. You had the position when I hired you in New York. My nephews merely have a penchant for posturing.”

Fariq put down his crystal water glass. “It is not posturing to be thorough when it comes to my children.”

“I agree. And the children are very dear to me, as well,” Farrah maintained. “The New York agency has a reputation for being the best. With their help, I conducted a meticulous and painstaking search for the perfect nanny. Hana and Nuri will be in excellent hands. Crystal is an admirable young woman.”

“Time will tell,” he said.

Crystal thought Fariq’s words and especially the cynical expression on his face contained hidden challenges. Before she could decide whether or not she should worry, Nuri slid under the table after his napkin.

Johara didn’t notice. She stared at her father. “I want to go to New York.”

“It’s just a city,” her father commented, dismissing her comment. “You are far better off here. It is your home and where you belong.”

“I don’t want to be safe. I don’t want to belong. I want to have experiences. I wish to live my life without everyone telling me—”

The king waved his hand impatiently. “Nonsense, Johara. It is time you let go of your foolish dreams.”

“They’re not foolish dreams—”

“Enough,” the king said. “I do not wish to hear more of your girlish fantasies. Speak of it no more.”

The young woman shot a dark look in his direction. She obeyed his command to keep silent but hostility radiated from her in nearly tangible waves. And Crystal couldn’t blame her.

She knew the king was heralded as a monarch who listened to his people’s needs and heeded them as best he could. But if he didn’t start listening and heeding under his own roof, there would be hell to pay. El Zafir might be located on the other side of the world from the United States, but she would bet its teenagers shared the same wants, needs and characteristics. One of which was the yearning to be validated and taken seriously, not to mention pursuing happiness…and rebellion in the quest for independence.

“So tell me, Crystal, do you have a political affiliation in your country?” the king asked, completely changing the subject.

Although she wanted to shake him and tell him to ask his daughter what her beliefs were, she held back. In fact, after being grilled like an expensive steak by the male members of the royal family, she was beginning to wish they would treat her more like the teenage princess and ignore her completely.

She met the king’s gaze. “Yes, Your Majesty. I’m a Republicrat.”

There was sudden silence around the table, and she felt six pairs of eyes on her. It would have been eight, but the twins were squirming in their chairs and putting their napkins on their heads. They’d lost interest in the conversation right after the entree had been served. It was just a matter of time until they disappeared under the table together.

“Republicrat?” Fariq frowned. “I studied the politics of your country, but I have never heard of this party.”

“Neither has anyone else. It has a membership of one. Basically I take the best from the Democrats and Republicans, then vote my conscience.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “You are a hybrid.”

Mongrel, mixture, mutt. That described her to a T. “Exactly,” she said, nodding emphatically.

“Crossbreeding in politics.” The king nodded approvingly. “Shows responsibility as well as intelligence. You do not simply follow like a sheep. A woman who can think for herself.”

“That’s me,” she agreed. “Crossbred in politics and ancestry. Nothing pedigreed about me.”

“Thank goodness,” Rafiq interjected, his expression serious. “I have much experience with horses, and it is my opinion that Thoroughbreds are a great deal of trouble.”

“I’ll let you know,” she muttered, wondering what it would be like working with Fariq, whose bloodlines were probably impeccable.

“Excuse me?” he said, his gaze piercing as he met hers.

Thinking fast, she answered, “I said, I’ll bet you know. Since your brother is an accomplished horseman, he would have firsthand knowledge of how much trouble purebreds are.”

“Yes.” Fariq sipped his champagne. “And people are much like horses in that regard.”

Crystal’s cheeks and neck grew hot. Was it possible he’d heard her mumbled words? Had he actually understood she’d been referring to the fact that his royal bloodlines could make him a pain in the neck?

“I’m not sure I follow you,” she said.

“Thoroughbreds can be difficult and demanding. Not unlike my own children. I require someone of intelligence, strength and quality to guide them. One thing we have not discussed is your views on raising children.”

Thank goodness they were leaving the subject of horses behind. She felt confident and qualified to discuss her views on child rearing. “I would be happy to review my philosophy whenever you’d like.”

“What about now?” he asked, glancing around the table.

“Fine. It will save time since everyone is here. What would you like to know?”

“What are your views on discipline?” Fariq set his fine linen napkin beside his plate.

“I’m in favor of it, but I think any punishment should fit the crime.”

At that moment little Hana hit her plate with her elbow, bumping it into her glass, which fell over with a crash. Water went everywhere and the goblet shattered.

“Oh, Nanny,” the little girl said, hiding her face against Crystal’s shoulder.

She put her arm around the child. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Accidents happen.”

“Johara,” the king said sternly. He flashed the teenager an angry look as a server rushed forward to clean up the mess. “The children are your responsibility tonight. Make them behave.”

“But, Father, they have been sitting too long—”

With one hand he waved away her excuse. “Take them to their rooms at once.”

“With pleasure.” The princess threw her napkin on the table and stood. “Hana, Nuri, come with me.”

Crystal gave the little girl a quick hug before letting her go with her teenage aunt. When they were gone, an awkward silence filled the room.

Fariq cleared his throat. “And what punishment would you allot for that crime?”

“First of all that wasn’t a crime, but an accident. If she’d done it on purpose that would be a different story.” She glanced at the king, debating how blunt to be, then decided the whole royal kit and caboodle of them might as well know how she felt. “Second, I agree with Princess Johara. Five-year-olds have approximately forty-five minutes of model behavior in them. Hana and Nuri passed that three quarters of an hour ago. In my opinion they were way past their grace period. They had been sitting too long and needed their space, to be children.”

“What would you have done?” Fariq asked, his expression unreadable.

“I’d have taken them back to their rooms and started the bedtime routine long ago.”

“But they are part of the royal family,” the king protested.

“Children of the royal family,” she stressed. “Not just short adults. As they mature, they’ll be able to handle the demands of pomp and circumstance. But they’re only five, hardly more than babies.”

“But Johara—”

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” she interrupted. “The princess is not to blame. Trying to control unpredictable five-year-olds would be like trying to harness the wind.”

“Crystal, you are so right.” Princess Farrah delicately wiped her mouth with a napkin, then set it beside her plate. “I plead ignorance in the art of child rearing, as I have none of my own. Gamil is hardly an expert, since all four of his offspring were raised by nannies and in boarding schools. I knew you would be perfect as soon as I met you.”

Crystal was grateful to the princess as she looked around the table and watched all the royal men mulling over her words and nodding in agreement. A bubble of satisfaction, liberally laced with exhilaration, expanded inside her.

Usually her appearance was what got her noticed. In fact, she’d come way too close to marrying a man who’d decided she would make the perfect accessory wife for an attorney on the way up the ladder of success. He’d actually told her to keep her thoughts to herself, stand up straight with her chest out and look beautiful. She’d told him to stick his proposal in his ear.

It was refreshing to be taken seriously for her brains. In this job her looks were actually a handicap to overcome. But the shiver of excitement that raced down her spine when she found Fariq’s hooded gaze on her made her wish for a little lipstick, mascara and a flattering dress. Unfortunately, she couldn’t have it both ways. Until she’d been there a while and convinced him she was the best person to care for his children, she was forced to keep the secret.

“I appreciate that, Your Highness,” she said to the princess as an ear-to-ear grin threatened. She managed to hold it back.

“Why is it you have no children of your own?” the princess asked her.

Fariq’s eyes gleamed, making her think what a rascal he must have been as a boy. But he was a man and it made him look roguish, masculine and so exciting. That doggone shiver boogied up and down her spine again.

“Miss Rawlins believes in love, marriage and children. In that order,” he added.

“Ah,” the princess said, nodding. “And you have not met a man who makes your heart beat faster? Someone who turns your thoughts to love?”

Against her will, Crystal’s gaze strayed to Fariq. Quickly she averted her eyes and looked at the king’s sister. “No, Your Majesty. I was almost engaged once. But—”

“Almost?” Fariq asked. “And now?”

“He’s out of my life,” she said with a shrug. She was beginning to feel like the key player in the Spanish inquisition.

“So to turn your thoughts from a broken heart you accepted this position far from home?” Kamal asked.

She refused to address the broken-heart portion of the question. “From the time I was a little girl, my mother drilled it into me that it’s best to experience life before you have responsibilities tying you down.”

“Drilled? Interesting choice of words,” Fariq commented.

“I have four brothers who followed my parents’ example and married young, then started families right away. I’m the only one who hasn’t and my mother’s last hope to do as she said not as she did. I’m hoping to make her proud.”

The first man to tempt her into overlooking her mother’s tenet had only been interested in her as a tool to advance his career. There wouldn’t be a second temptation. That game needed two players. Without warning, her thoughts fixed on Fariq. Silly. Because he wasn’t likely to participate. Especially with a plain woman.

“So your mother’s advice is our gain,” Fariq commented.

“I hope you continue to feel that way.” She removed her glasses for a moment and rubbed just above the bridge of her nose where the eye pads chafed. She missed her contacts—

Princess Farrah leaned toward her. “Crystal, do you really need your glasses to correct your vision?”

The question stunned her. Just when she’d thought it was safe to let her guard down, there was an unexpected zinger. Hurriedly she put her glasses back on and nearly poked herself in the eye.

“Why d-do you ask?”

“Because your eyes are quite lovely. And your skin is absolutely flawless—from what I can tell you aren’t wearing cosmetics of any kind.”

“I’m not.” She sighed, deciding to leave it at that. “I’m blind as a bat without corrective lenses. Near sightedness combined with astigmatism distorts my vision terribly.” At least that much was the honest truth. “Without my glasses I wouldn’t be able to see across the table.” She met Fariq’s penetrating gaze and decided maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. “Although in my own defense I’d like to point out it’s quite a large table.”

“Yes it is,” the princess answered. “But how unfortunate. Without such eyewear, I believe you have the potential to be quite pretty. Have you ever considered looking into contacts?”

Crystal grinned. “Good one, Your Highness.”

“What?” The woman’s brow furrowed as she thought.

“Your pun—looking into contacts—”

“What does it matter?” Fariq’s voice was edged with annoyance. “She’s fine as she is. Beauty is a highly overrated quality.”

Rafiq leaned his forearms against the table. “So, my brother, you would prefer a woman with a face that would stop a clock?”

“I didn’t say that—”

“If beauty does not move you, what female attributes do you find enticing?” Kamal asked, the corners of his mouth curving up slightly.

“Honesty,” Fariq said without hesitation.

Of all the attributes he could have named, that was the one Crystal could have done without. Not only that, this man had a high profile all over the world. His name had been linked with some of the world’s most stunning women. But he was more interested in candor than comeliness. That pretty much shocked her right out of her support stockings.

So she said the only thing she could think of. “My mother always says beauty is as beauty does.”

After several moments of silence the king asked, “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure.” Crystal shook her head. “I think it has something to do with using genetic gifts only for good.”

Everyone laughed, including Fariq, and she was glad to have lightened a moment quickly becoming awkward and tense. With luck, Princess Farrah would stop trying to make her over. And what was that all about anyhow? What about the whole “plain” nanny scenario? It didn’t take a billboard ad on the interstate for her to get the message that the king frowned on his sons pursuing anything of a personal nature with the hired help.

Crystal finally chalked it up to a chick thing. Women couldn’t resist make-overs. She could only hope the matter would be dropped. Because she wasn’t a superhero. She had no tricks up her cape to preserve her alter ego. And she didn’t want to think about what would happen if Fariq found out she could look better if she wanted.

Chapter Three

Fariq tossed the file he’d been reading onto the coffee table in his suite. The more he tried to concentrate on work, the more his thoughts turned to his children’s new nanny. At dinner several hours before, he’d found her to be a curious yet intriguing mixture of spirit and intelligence.

He had sworn on the honor of his ancestors not to be taken in by a beautiful face ever again. Was it breaking his promise to think about this woman? She was certainly not the stunning sort with whom he was constantly and erroneously linked. But he’d found her pleasant and surprising.

He looked at the open French doors leading onto the balcony as a noise from outside drifted to him. After rising from the sofa, he walked to the doorway and glanced out. The night was dark as clouds covered the moon. But in the shadows to his right, he saw a figure leaning on the balcony railing outside the rooms where his children slept.

“Hello,” he said.

Crystal whirled at the sound of his voice. Dim light from inside the suite illuminated her as she pressed a hand to her chest. “Good grief,” she gasped, “I thought I was alone.”

“And so you were until I came outside. This balcony runs the length of my suite. All the rooms are connected by it, and from here we can see the ocean. My bedroom is there,” he said pointing to the room past the living area.

“Oh. I didn’t actually understand the layout. I just came out for some air. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

“You didn’t,” he lied.

She’d disturbed him even before he’d discovered her outside his window, a wraith in the night. He noticed that her hair was no longer pulled away from her forehead in the excruciatingly severe style she favored. A breeze from the Arabian Sea blew the strands across her face. Although the exact shade was still hidden by the shadows, he could tell that the length hung down her back and the ends caressed her waist.

Most contemporary women of fashion did not wear such a long style. Clearly, Crystal was not a woman of fashion. Her long hair was lovely. But the temptation to run his fingers through the glossy length annoyed him.

As his eyes adjusted from the light inside to the darkness of night, he noted further details about her. His pulse jumped when he realized she was dressed for bed. Her sleeping attire was high-necked and demure. Looking more closely, he saw that her nightgown was white, fashioned from satin and lace. Somehow that made it more erotic.

She wasn’t wearing a robe—because she’d thought she was alone? Life with his wife had taught him to question everything, and he wondered if Crystal truly hadn’t known of his presence. Or if she had another agenda. But the manner in which she clung to the shadows hinted of a guileless quality that complemented the virginal image she portrayed in her innocent, high-necked nightgown. He swallowed hard, telling himself it was past time to go back inside. But he found that to do so required more energetic determination than he possessed just now.

Moving closer, he stopped just close enough to inhale the seductive scent of her skin.

“It’s late,” she said. “I’d better go in.”

Her voice held a breathy, husky quality that he found pleasing and far too appealing. “Of course. You are still adjusting to the time difference. You must be tired.”

“Oddly enough, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Then please stay,” he said. “Keep me company.”

What had made him ask that? It was unwise and foolhardy to voluntarily seek out a woman’s company—any woman. What was it about this one that dissolved his common sense?

“Okay.”

The single word spoken in her soft tone chafed his nerve endings. He shook his head. Enough of this nonsense. She was nanny to his children. He would discuss them with her.

“Hana and Nuri—are they asleep?”

She nodded. “Like little angels.”

“I wish to thank you for taking their part tonight—with the king.”

“You needn’t thank me. They were behaving exactly like average five-year-olds and doing nothing wrong. Your father has four children. He should understand that.”

“It has been many years since my brothers and sister and I were small. As my aunt said, he left our care to others.”

“Of course. Because he was busy running the country.” She folded her arms over her bosom and leaned back against the wrought-iron railing.

“I am their father and protector. I should have intervened on their behalf.”

“It’s difficult to know what behaviors are age appropriate when you’re not trained in the care of children.”

“Miss Rawlins, is that an attempt to cut me some slack, as you Americans say?”

Her teeth flashed white when she smiled. “It’s just the truth. Most fathers work and only see their children in the evening. It’s the primary caregiver who knows them and can make a judgment about whether or not they’re trying to pull a fast one.”

“Not my children,” he said wryly.

“Of course not,” she agreed. “It’s a parent’s job to think their children are perfect and work twenty-four/ seven to make it so. It will take me some time to get to know them. To interpret what they know and what they’re capable of understanding. I don’t believe it’s right to hold them accountable for something if they can’t comprehend what’s expected of them.”

“They will be held to standards beyond those of the average child.”

“But they are still children,” she protested.

“Royal children. Hana and Nuri will have many more pressures just because of who they are. More will be expected of them because of their high-born status.”

“Too much pressure will crush them if they’re not prepared.”

“It is your job to make certain that doesn’t happen,” he said.

“And I will do my best. But they will also need the influence and guidance of someone who’s been where they are and knows how it feels.”

“Someone like their father?”

“Yes,” she agreed. “And their uncles. And aunt. Johara really has a way with children, an instinctive understanding and empathy.”

“As do you.” He slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks. Her sensible approach and protectiveness toward his children pleased him.

“Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “I was wondering why—”

“Yes?”

“They say curiosity killed the cat. But I can’t help wondering what happened to the other nannies. Why five in a year?”

“It is wise to know the blunders of those who have gone before in order to avoid the same mistakes.”

“I’ll make new ones,” she teased.

“Let us hope they are not beheading offenses.”

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