Prince Daddy & the Nanny (7 page)

“The timing of the meeting is unfortunate and unchangeable,” he told her, “which is why you're here to take care of Riley in my absence.”

“Don't you think it would be better if Riley had more than a week to get to know me before you left?”

“I agree the circumstances aren't ideal,” he acknowledged. “But I trust that you can manage for a few days.”

 

That was apparently her job—to manage. While her lack of experience had given her some concern about taking a job as a nanny, Hannah had sincerely looked forward to spending time with the young princess. But the truth was, she spent less time with Riley than did any of the little girl's instructors.

And while she rarely saw the prince outside of mealtimes, their weekend beach outing aside, just knowing he had gone back to Port Augustine somehow made the house seem emptier, lonelier. Or maybe it was the weather that was responsible for her melancholy mood. The day was gray and rainy, Riley was busy with one of her countless lessons, leaving Hannah on her own.

After wandering the halls for a while—she'd spent hours just exploring and admiring the numerous rooms of Cielo del Norte—she decided to spend some time with Caridad.
Although she'd only been at the house for a week, she'd gotten to know the housekeeper quite well and enjoyed talking with her. But Caridad was up to her elbows in dough with flour all over the counters, so she shooed Hannah out of her way.

Hannah felt as if she should be doing something, but when she finally accepted that there was nothing she
had
to do and considered what she
wanted
to do instead, she headed for the library.

It was, admittedly, her absolute favorite space in the whole house. She had always been a voracious reader, and on her first visit to the room she'd been thrilled to find that the floor-to-ceiling bookcases were stocked with an eclectic assortment of materials. There were essays and biographies; textbooks and travel guides; volumes of short stories, poetry and plays; there were leather-bound classics, hardback copies of current bestsellers and dog-eared paperbacks. She spent several minutes just perusing the offerings, until a recent title by one of her favorite thriller writers caught her eye.

She settled into the antique camelback sofa with her feet tucked up under her and cracked open the cover. As always, the author's storytelling technique drew her right in, and her heart was already pounding in anticipation as the killer approached his next victim when a knock sounded on the door.

The knock was immediately followed by the entrance of a visitor and, with a startled gasp, Hannah jumped to her feet and dropped a quick—and probably awkward—curtsy.

“I beg your pardon, Your Highness, you caught me—”

“In the middle of a good book,” the princess finished with a smile, as she offered her hand. “I'm Marissa Leandres, Michael's sister.”

Of course, Hannah had recognized her immediately. Although the princess kept a rather low profile and wasn't
a usual target of the paparazzi, she made frequent public appearances for her favorite charities and causes.

“I recently read that one myself and couldn't put it down,” Marissa admitted. “So if I'm interrupting a good part, please tell me so, and I'll take my tea in the kitchen with Caridad.”

“Of course not,” Hannah lied, because after being banished by the housekeeper, the prospect of actual human company was even more enticing than the book still in her hand.

“Good,” the princess said, settling into a balloon-back chair near the sofa. “Because I would love for you to join me, if you have a few minutes to spare.”

“I have a lot more minutes to spare than I would have anticipated when I took this job,” Hannah admitted.

The other woman's smile was wry. “I guess that means that my brother, once again, chose to ignore my advice.”

“What was your advice?”

“To give Riley a break from her lessons, at least for the summer.”

“So I'm not the only one who thinks that her schedule is a little over the top for a not-quite-four-year-old?” Even as the words spilled out of her mouth, Hannah winced, recognizing the inappropriateness of criticizing a member of the royal family—and to his sister, no less.

“Please don't censor your thoughts on my account,” Marissa said. “And I absolutely agree with you about Riley's schedule. Although, in his defence, Michael believes he is doing what's best for Riley.”

“I'm sure he does,” she agreed, even if she still disagreed with his decision to leave Cielo del Norte—and his daughter. Thinking of that now, she apologized to the princess. “And I'm sure the prince must not have known of your plans to visit today because he went back to Port Augustine this morning.”

Marissa waved a hand. “I didn't come to see him, anyway. I came to meet you. And I would have come sooner,
but I've been tied up in meetings at the hospital, trying to get final approval for the expansion of the neonatal department at PACH.”

“The Juno Project.”

Marissa smiled. “Of course you would know about it—your uncle has been one of my staunchest allies on the board.”

“He believes very strongly in what you're doing.”

“Don't encourage me,” the princess warned. “Because if I start talking about what we want to do, I won't be able to stop, and that really isn't why I'm here.”

Another knock on the door preceded Caridad's entrance. She pushed a fancy cart set with a silver tea service, elegant gold-rimmed cups and saucers, and a plate of freshly baked scones with little pots of jam and clotted cream.

“Thank you,” Marissa said to the housekeeper. “Those scones look marvelous.”

Though she didn't actually smile, Caridad looked pleased by the compliment. “Would you like me to serve, Your Highness?”

“No, I think we can handle it.”

“Very well then.” She bobbed a curtsy and exited the room, closing the door again behind her.

“She makes that curtsying thing look so easy,” Hannah mused. “I always feel like I'm going to tip over.”

Marissa smiled as she poured the tea.

“It does take some practice,” she agreed. “But I wouldn't worry about it. We don't stand on ceremony too much in my family—well, none of us but my mother. And it's not likely you'll have occasion to cross paths with her while you're here.”

The statement piqued Hannah's curiosity, but she didn't feel it was her place to ask and, thankfully, the princess didn't seem to expect a response.

“So how are you getting along with my brother?” Marissa asked, passing a cup of tea to her.

“I don't really see a lot of the prince,” Hannah admitted.

“Is he hiding out in his office all the time?”

“He's working in his office all of the time,” she clarified.

“He does have the National Diabetes Awareness Campaign coming up in the fall,” the princess acknowledged. “He always gives that a lot of time and attention—and pro bono, too.”

Her surprise must have shown on her face, because Marissa said, “I know Michael sometimes acts like it's all about making money, but he does a lot of work for charities—Literacy, Alzheimer's, the Cancer Society—and never bills for it.”

Hannah knew that his wife had been diabetic, so she should have expected that awareness of the disease was a cause close to his heart, but she hadn't expected to learn that he had such a kind and generous heart.

“I didn't know he did any of that,” she admitted.

“Michael doesn't think it's a big deal,” the princess confided. “But giving back is important to him. After Sam died…I don't know how much you know about his history, but he went through a really tough time then.”

“I can't even begin to imagine,” Hannah murmured.

“Neither can I,” Marissa confided, “and I was there. I saw how losing her completely tore him apart—nearly decimated him. I tried to be understanding, but I don't think anyone really can understand the magnitude of that kind of grief without having experienced the kind of love that he and Sam shared.

“It took him a long time to see through the fog of that grief—to see Riley. But when he finally did, he put all of his efforts into being a good father to his little girl. He prepared her bottles, he changed her diapers, he played peekaboo.”

As hard as Hannah tried, she couldn't imagine the prince
she'd only started to get to know over the past week doing any of those things. While it was obvious that he loved his daughter, it seemed just as obvious to Hannah that he was more comfortable with her at a distance.

“He made mistakes, as all new parents do, but he figured things out as he went along. Then he found out that Riley was gifted, and everything changed.”

“Why?”

“Because Michael was just starting to find his way as a father when one of the specialists suggested that Riley would benefit from more structured activities, as if what he was doing wasn't enough. So he asked Brigitte to set up some interviews with music teachers and language instructors and academic tutors, and suddenly Riley's day became one lesson after another. Honestly, her schedule for the past six months has been more intense than mine.”

While Hannah doubted that was true, she did think the princess's insight might explain Riley's bed-wetting episode. It wasn't that the little girl was regressing to her toddler habits, just that the signal of her body's need hadn't been able to overcome the absolute exhaustion of her mind.

“I think that's when he started spending longer hours at the office, because he felt like Riley didn't need him.”

“I've tried to talk to the prince about his daughter's schedule,” Hannah admitted now. “But he seems…resistant.”

The princess's brows lifted. “Are you always so diplomatic?”

She flushed, recalling too many times when she'd freely spoken her mind, as if forgetting not just that he was a prince but also her boss. “I'm sure His Highness would say not.”

Marissa laughed. “Then I will say that I'm very glad you're here. My brother needs someone in his life who isn't afraid to speak her mind.”

“I'm only here for the summer,” Hannah reminded her.

“That just might be long enough,” Marissa said with a secretive smile.

Hannah didn't dare speculate about what the princess's cryptic comment could mean.

I
t was ten o'clock by the time Michael left the restaurant Tuesday night, but he did so with the knowledge that the prospective clients were going to sign a contract at nine o'clock the following morning. He didn't need to be there for that part of things—he'd done his job, gotten the client's verbal commitment; the rest was just paperwork. The documents had already been prepared by his secretary and the signing would be witnessed by the company vice president, so there was no reason that Michael couldn't head back to Cielo del Norte right now. True, it would be after midnight before he arrived, but he wasn't tired. In fact, the drive would give him a chance to let him unwind.

But for some reason, he found himself following the familiar route toward his home in Verde Colinas.

He unlocked the door but didn't bother turning on any lights as he walked through the quiet of the now-empty house toward his bedroom. It was the bedroom he'd shared with his wife during their twelve-year marriage. Even the
bed was the same, and there were still nights that he'd roll over and reach for her—and wake with an ache in the heart that was as empty as his arms.

For months after she'd gone, he could still smell her perfume every time he walked into their bedroom. It was as if her very essence had permeated every item in the room. Each time, the scent had been like a kick to the gut—a constant reminder that while her fragrance might linger, his wife was gone.

He wasn't sure when that sense of her had finally faded, but now he was desperate for it, for some tangible reminder of the woman he'd loved. He drew in a deep breath, but all he could smell was fresh linen and lemon polish.

He stripped away his clothes and draped them over the chair beside the bed, then pulled back the covers and crawled between the cool sheets.

He deliberately shifted closer to Sam's side of the bed, and he was thinking of her as he drifted to sleep.

But he dreamed of Hannah.

 

The prince had told Hannah that he would probably be away overnight, but he was gone for three days.

At first, despite the nightly phone calls to his daughter, it didn't seem as if Riley was even aware of her father's absence. But then Hannah noticed the subtle changes in the little girl's behavior. She went about her daily routines, but she was unusually quiet and compliant at mealtimes, and she wet her bed both nights. The first morning that Hannah saw the damp sheets in a heap on the floor, she waited for Riley's tirade. But the little girl only asked if she had time to take a bath before breakfast.

By Wednesday, Hannah was desperate for something—anything—to cheer up the little girl. It was the only day of the week that Riley's lessons were finished by lunchtime, so
in the morning, she dialed the familiar number of her best friend.

“I'm calling at a bad time,” she guessed, when she registered the sound of crying in the background.

“Gabriel's teething,” Karen replied wearily. “It's always a bad time.”

“Maybe I can help,” Hannah suggested.

“Unless you want to take the kid off of my hands for a few hours so I can catch up on my sleep, I doubt it.”

“I was actually hoping to take Grace off of your hands for a few hours, but I might be able to handle the baby, too.”

She must have sounded as uncertain as she felt, because Karen managed a laugh. “The new nanny gig must be a piece of cake if you want to add more kids to the mix.”

“I wouldn't say it's been a piece of cake,” Hannah confided. “But I really would appreciate it if Grace could come over and hang out with Riley for a while.”

The only response was, aside from the background crying, complete and utter silence.

“Karen?” she prompted.

“I'm sorry. I'm just a little—a lot—surprised. I mean, Grace is a great kid, but she goes to public school.”

Hannah laughed. “She is a great kid, and I think it would be great for Riley to play with someone closer to her own age.” Although her friend's daughter had just turned six and the princess wasn't quite four, Hannah didn't have any concerns about Riley being able to keep up with Grace. “So—will you come?”

“I'm packing Gabe's diaper bag as we speak,” Karen assured her.

“Could you bring some of Grace's toys and games, too?”

“Sure. What does the princess like to play with?”

“That's what I'm trying to figure out,” Hannah admitted.

 

For the first time since Hannah arrived at Cielo del Norte, she felt as if she and Riley had a really good day. Of course,
it was really Grace's visit that made the difference for the princess. After Riley got past her initial hesitation about meeting someone new, the two girls had a wonderful time together. They played some board games, made sculptures with modeling clay, built towers of blocks—which Gabe happily knocked down for them—and sang and danced in the music room. The adults observed without interference until Grace suggested playing hide-and-seek, then Karen insisted on limiting their game to only four rooms, to ensure that her daughter didn't wander off too far and get lost.

Hannah was amazed by the transformation of the princess into a normal little girl. And while Karen still looked like she would benefit from a good night of uninterrupted sleep, she thanked Hannah for the invite, insisting that the change of venue and adult conversation were just what she needed to feel human again. For her part, Hannah was happy to have the time with her friend—and thrilled to cuddle with ten-month-old Gabe.

“Did you have fun playing with Grace today?” Hannah asked when she tucked Riley into bed later that night.

The princess nodded. “Her mommy is very pretty.”

The wistful tone in her voice made Hannah's heart ache for the little girl who didn't have any memories of her own mother. “Yes, she is,” she agreed. “Her mommy is also one of my best friends.”

“I don't have a best friend,” Riley admitted. “I don't have any friends at all.”

“Only because you haven't had a chance to make friends. That will change when you go to school in September.”

Riley looked away. “I don't want to go to school.”

“Why not?”

The little girl shrugged. “Because I won't know anyone there.”

“It can be scary,” Hannah admitted. “Going new places,
meeting new people. But it's going to be new for all of the other kids, too.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Hannah assured her.

“When did you meet your best friend?” Riley wanted to know.

“The first year that I came to Tesoro del Mar to live with my uncle Phillip.”

“He's my doctor,” Riley said, then her little brow furrowed. “But why did you live with your uncle? Where was your daddy?”

Hannah thought it was telling—and more than a little sad—that Riley didn't ask about her mother. Because, in her experience, it was more usual for little girls to live with their daddies than with both of their parents.

“My daddy lived far away.”

“Why didn't you live with him there?”

“I used to,” Hannah told her. “Before my mother died.”

The princess's eyes went wide. “Your mommy died, too?”

Hannah nodded. “When I was a few years older than you.”

“Do you miss her?”

She nodded again. “Even though it was a very long time ago, I still miss her very much.”

“I don't remember my mommy,” Riley admitted, almost guiltily.

Hannah brushed a lock of hair off of the little girl's forehead. “You couldn't,” she said gently, hoping to reassure her. “You were only a baby when she died.”

“But I have a present from her.”

“What's that?”

The princess pointed to the beautifully dressed silken-haired doll on the top of her tallest dresser. Hannah had noticed it the first time she'd ever ventured into the room,
partly because it was so exquisite and partly because it was the only doll the little girl seemed to own.

“I call her Sara.”

After the little princess in the story by Frances Hodgson Burnett, Hannah guessed, having seen a copy of the book on Riley's shelf of favorites.

“That's a very pretty name,” she said. “For a very pretty doll.”

The child smiled shyly. “Daddy said she looks just like my mommy, when she was a little girl. And he put her up there so that she could always watch over me.” Then she sighed.

“Why does that make you sad?” Hannah asked her.

“I just think that she must be lonely, because she has no one to play with.”

“Are you lonely?”

Riley shook her head, though the denial seemed more automatic than sincere, and her gaze shifted toward the doll again. “There's always a teacher or someone with me.”

“You are very busy with your lessons.” Hannah took Sara off of the dresser, smoothed a hand over her springy blond curls. The princess watched her every move, seemingly torn between shock and pleasure that her beloved Sara had been moved from her very special place. Hannah straightened the velvet skirt, then adjusted the bow on one of her black boots, and finally offered the doll to Riley.

The child's eyes went wide, and for a moment Hannah thought she might shake her head, refusing the offer. But then her hand reached out and she tentatively touched a finger to the lace that peeked out from beneath the doll's full skirt.

“But maybe you could spend some time with Sara when you're not too busy?”

She nodded, not just an affirmation but a promise, and hugged the doll against her chest.

“And maybe Grace could come back to play another time,” Hannah continued.

The last of the shadows lifted from the little girl's eyes. “Do you think she would?”

“I think she'd be happy to.” She pulled the covers up to Riley's chin. “Good night.”

“'Night,” Riley echoed, her eyes already drifting shut.

Hannah switched off the lamp on the bedside table and started to tiptoe out of the room.

“Hannah?”

She paused at the door. “Did you need something?”

There was a slight hesitation, and then Riley finally said, “Daddy sometimes sits with me until I fall asleep.”

And as Michael hadn't been home for the past two nights, his daughter was obviously missing him. “I'm not sure when your daddy's going to be home,” she admitted, because he never spoke to her when he called except to ask for his daughter and she hadn't felt entitled to inquire about his agenda.

“Could you stay for a while?” Riley asked. “Please?”

“I would be happy to stay,” Hannah told her.

The princess's lips curved, just a little. “You don't have to stay long. I'm very tired.”

“I'll stay as long as you want,” she promised.

Hannah wasn't very tired herself, but the night was so dark and quiet that she found her eyes beginning to drift shut. She thought about going across the hall to her own bed, but she didn't want to tiptoe away until she was certain that Riley wouldn't awaken. So she listened to the soft, even sounds of the little girl's breathing…

 

Michael had stayed away longer than he'd intended, and he was feeling more than a little guilty about his extended absence. And angry at himself when he finally recognized the real reason behind his absence—he'd been hiding.

His sister would probably say that he'd been hiding from life the past four years, and maybe that was true to a certain extent. But for the past three days, he'd been hiding from something else—or rather some
one
else: Hannah Castillo.

Since she'd moved into Cielo del Norte, she'd turned his entire life upside down. She made him question so many things he'd been certain of, and she made him feel too many things he didn't want to feel.

After two long, sleepless nights alone in his bed in Verde Colinas, he'd accepted that he couldn't keep hiding forever.

Besides, he missed his daughter, and hearing her voice on the phone couldn't compare to feeling the warmth of her arms around his neck.

Whether Hannah believed it or not, Riley was the center of his world. Maybe he spent more hours in his office than he did with his child, but it was the time he spent with her that made every day worthwhile. It was her smile that filled the dark places in his heart with light, and her laughter that lifted his spirits when nothing else could.

Even now, as he tiptoed toward her room, his step was lighter because he was finally home with her.

Of course, being home also meant being in close proximity to Hannah again, but he was confident that he would figure out a way to deal with the unwelcome feelings she stirred inside of him. And anyway, that wasn't something he was going to worry about before morning.

Or so he thought until he stepped into Riley's room and saw her in the chair beside his daughter's bed.

He stopped abruptly, and her eyelids flickered, then slowly lifted.

“What are you doing here?” Though he'd spoken in a whisper, the words came out more harshly than he'd intended.

Hannah blinked, obviously startled by the sharp demand. “Riley asked me to sit with her until she fell asleep.”

“I would hope she's been asleep for a while,” he told her. “It's after midnight.”

“I guess I fell asleep, too.”

“You should be in your own bed,” he told her.

She nodded and eased out of the chair.

He moved closer, to adjust Riley's covers. As he pulled up the duvet, he noticed that there was something tucked beneath her arm. He felt a funny tug in his belly as he recognized the doll that Sam had bought when she learned that she was having a baby girl.

It was the only thing Riley had that was chosen specifically for her by her mother. Now its dress was rumpled and its hair was in disarray and one of its boots was falling off. He tried to ease the doll from Riley's grasp, but as soon as he tried to wriggle it free, her arm tightened around it. With a sigh of both regret and resignation, he left the doll with his daughter and caught up with Hannah outside of the room.