The Prince's Royal Dilemma. Brenda Harlen

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СКАЧАТЬ was the prince regent now, and as a leader, he had to be decisive and he had to stand behind his decisions. He shouldn’t let a child’s tearful pleas or the memories of the nanny’s impassioned speech create doubts in his mind. He had to do what was best for the children, to ensure they got the guidance and discipline they needed.

      Do you think that spending a few hours at the dinner table with them on special occasions has made you an expert on what they want or need?

      Even as Lara’s words echoed in his mind, he knew that the situation with Damon clearly proved he was not.

      He’d done what was necessary for his own peace of mind, and he’d used his concerns about the children to justify his actions. It didn’t matter that he’d truly believed he was doing what was best for all of them—he should have remembered about good intentions and the road to hell.

      Tomorrow he would walk straight down that road and face a woman who could tempt him to sin more easily than the devil himself.

      Chapter Three

      Lara tiptoed toward the doorway of the room that Marci and Kayla shared to check on them one last time before heading off to her own bed, as she’d always done with Christian, Lexi and Damon.

      The thought came automatically, as so many thoughts and memories of the Santiago children did, and was accompanied by a sharp pang of longing. She rubbed a hand over her chest, as if the action might assuage the ache in her heart. She knew there would come a time when she would think of them with fondness and without pain, but she feared that time was a long way in the future.

      Pushing open the door of the girls’ bedroom, she saw that Marci’s bed was empty. Her heart jolted, then settled when she noted the two heads snuggled close together on Kayla’s pillow.

      She wondered if one of the girls had had a bad dream or if they sometimes just preferred the comfort of sleeping close together. She’d have to ask Luke. After more than a week with his family, she was still getting to know them, learning their routines, discovering their likes and dislikes.

      The twins had accepted the news that she was to be their new nanny easily, if not warmly. They were quiet children, polite and well mannered. Certainly they’d given her no trouble, nor had they given any indication that they wanted or needed her presence in their lives.

      Luke, at least, seemed grateful to have her around. The widowed father never failed to notice the little things she did—the fresh flowers in the parlor, the tidying of the books in the library, the weeding of the flowerbeds out front—and he was always appreciative of the simple meals she prepared. Though cleaning and cooking hadn’t been part of her responsibilities at the palace, she was grateful for the additional tasks now because they helped her feel as if she was making a real contribution.

      As she turned away from the girls’ bedroom, she found herself thinking again of Julian and Catherine’s children. She wondered if their new nanny checked on them at night, if she made sure Christian had turned out his light before falling asleep, if she gently brushed Lexi’s hair away from her face, if she tucked Damon’s covers around him. And she wondered—and worried—who was comforting Damon when he awakened in the night.

      Not Prince Rowan, she was certain. His rooms were on the fourth floor of the palace, and the nursery was two stories below. But maybe Damon’s nightmares had finally stopped. For his sake, she hoped so, though she suspected that it would take some time still before he accepted the loss of his parents and managed to sleep without dreaming of them.

      She was pulling back the covers to climb into her own bed when she heard a knock at the door. She frowned and glanced at the clock on her bedside table as the knock sounded again. It was almost eleven, and though she was hesitant to answer the door at such a late hour, she was even more reluctant to have the girls awakened by the pounding.

      And it was a pounding now, as whoever was at the door was obviously growing impatient.

      She grabbed her robe from the back of the chair and shoved her arms into the sleeves, reaching the bottom of the stairs just as the door of Luke’s office swung open. The disheveled hair and creases on his cheek confirmed that he’d fallen asleep at his desk again.

      “I’ve got it,” he said.

      Lara hovered behind him, her curiosity turning to shock when he opened the door and she saw who was standing on the porch.

      But Luke clearly didn’t recognize the prince, because the furrow in his brow deepened. “Can I help you?”

      “I need to speak with Miss Brennan.” Rowan’s gaze moved past Luke to settle on her.

      She was suddenly conscious of the way she was dressed—or rather not dressed—as she automatically dropped into a curtsy. “Your Highness,” she murmured.

      “Your Highness?” Luke echoed, immediately stepping away from the door and offering an awkward bow. “Forgive me, I didn’t realize—”

      “It’s all right,” the prince said, interrupting. “I’m the one who should apologize for intruding at such a late hour. I wanted to come sooner but got held up at dinner with the Japanese ambassador.”

      His eyes again shifted from Luke to Lara, narrowing as he took in her employer’s rumpled appearance and her nightclothes. His jaw tightened, but he made no remark.

      He didn’t need to. She knew what he was thinking, because she knew he’d always had a less-than-favorable opinion of her, and she didn’t care. Not anymore.

      She lifted her chin. “Why are you here, Your Highness?”

      His eyes lifted to hers, and the intensity in that dark gaze sent a jolt of heat straight through her. Then he spoke the words she’d never thought she’d hear him say, four words she was helpless to resist.

      “Because I need you.”

      There were any number of people Rowan could have sent from the palace with his inquiry, but he knew that passing off the task would have been cowardly. He needed to see Lara—Miss Brennan—himself, to apologize to her personally and to make his appeal directly. It was the only way he could be sure that she wouldn’t refuse.

      She didn’t owe him anything. He was all too aware of that fact. Just as he was aware that she would want to turn down his request. He had enough of both pride and stubbornness to recognize those qualities in someone else. He also recognized weakness, and he knew Lara Brennan had three: Christian, Alexandria and Damon. Yes, she would want to turn him away, but she wouldn’t refuse the children anything.

      The man who answered the door—her new employer? her lover? Rowan pretended it didn’t matter—excused himself so the prince could speak with Lara in private.

      She led him into the kitchen and gestured for him to sit, though she didn’t take a seat herself. Instead she tightened the belt on her robe and turned away from him to make a pot of tea.

      He could have told her that he didn’t want any damn tea, but he knew that what he wanted wasn’t really important right now. And she seemed to need to do something to keep herself busy while she considered the implications of his appearance on the doorstep.

      She set the kettle on the stove and flicked a knob to turn on the burner before she faced him again. “Why do you need me?”

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