Prince Daddy & the Nanny. Brenda Harlen
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Prince Daddy & the Nanny - Brenda Harlen страница 8

Название: Prince Daddy & the Nanny

Автор: Brenda Harlen

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Современные любовные романы

Серия:

isbn: 9781408971239

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ he couldn’t deny that she tempted him in more ways than he was ready to acknowledge.

       Chapter Three

      Well, that hadn’t gone quite as she’d expected, Hannah thought as she exited Prince Michael’s office. And she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, not just with their meeting but in the man himself. She’d thought he might want to talk to her about Riley’s favorite activities at the beach, give her some suggestions on how to keep the little girl busy and happy, but she’d gotten the impression he only wanted her to keep the child occupied and out of his way.

      As she made her way down the hall in search of the princess, she realized that she’d never actually seen him with his daughter. The first time she’d met Riley—the day of the ice cream mishap at the art gallery—the little girl had been in the care of her nanny. When Hannah had arrived at the prince’s house to interview for the position, Riley had been out with Brigitte. She’d gone back for a second visit, to spend some time with the child so that she wouldn’t be a complete stranger to her when she showed up at Cielo del Norte, but she hadn’t seen the prince at all on that occasion.

      Now he was in his office, and the princess was apparently somewhere else in this labyrinth of rooms preparing for a piano lesson. Did they always lead such separate lives? Did the prince really intend to spend most of his supposed holiday at his desk?

      Once she’d gotten over her wariness about taking a job for which she had no experience, she’d actually found herself looking forward to spending the summer with the young princess. She’d imagined that they would play in the water and have picnics on the beach. She hadn’t anticipated that the little girl wouldn’t have time for fun and frivolity. Yes, she’d been born royal and would someday have duties and obligations as a result, but she wasn’t even four years old yet.

      Brigitte had made a point of telling Hannah—several times—that Riley was an exceptionally bright and gifted child who was already reading at a second-grade level—in French. She’d encouraged the young princess to demonstrate her talents at the piano, and Riley had done so willingly enough. Hannah couldn’t help but be impressed, but in the back of her mind, she wondered why the child didn’t seem happy.

      Somehow that question had Hannah thinking about what she’d been doing as a four-year-old. Her own childhood had hardly been traditional, but it had been fun. In whatever village had been their current home, she’d always had lots of local children to play with. She’d raced over the hills and played hide-and-seek in the trees. She’d gone swimming in watering holes and rivers and streams. She’d created rudimentary sculptures out of riverbank clay and built houses and castles from mud and grass.

      Her parents had never worried about the lack of formal education, insisting that the life skills she was learning were far more important than reading and writing. While the teacher in her cringed at that philosophy now, she did understand the importance of balance between life and learning.

      At the princess’s age, she’d picked up some words and phrases in Swahili and Hausa and Manyika, enough to communicate with the other kids on a basic level; Riley was studying French, Italian and German out of textbooks. And whereas Hannah had learned music by banging on tribal drums or shaking and rattling dried seed pods, Riley had lessons from professional instructors.

      She could hear the piano now, and followed the sound of the sharp, crisp notes to the music room to find the prince’s daughter practicing scales on a glossy white Steinway.

      She was sitting in the middle of the piano bench, her feet—clad in ruffled ankle socks and white patent Mary Janes—dangling several inches above the polished marble floor. Her long, dark hair was neatly plaited and tied with a pink bow. Her dress was the same shade of cotton candy, with ruffles at the bottoms of the sleeves and skirt. The housekeeper was in the corner, dusting some knickknacks on a shelf and surreptitiously keeping an eye on the princess.

      The soaring ceiling was set off with an enormous chandelier dripping with crystals, but the light was unnecessary as the late-morning sun spilled through the tall, arched windows that faced the ocean. The other walls were hung with gorgeous woven tapestries, and while Hannah guessed that their placement was more likely for acoustics than aesthetics, the effect was no less breathtaking.

      Suddenly, the fingers moving so smoothly over the ivory keys stopped abruptly. Riley swiveled on the bench, a dark scowl on her pretty face. “What are you doing in here?”

      “Hello, Riley,” Hannah said pleasantly.

      “What are you doing in here?” the princess asked again.

      “I wanted to hear you practice.”

      “I like to be alone when I practice,” she said, demonstrating that she’d inherited her father’s mood as well as his dark eyes.

      Hannah just shrugged, refusing to let the little girl’s attitude affect her own. “I can wait in the hall until you’re finished.”

      “I have my French lesson after piano.”

      Hannah referred to the schedule she’d been given, which confirmed Riley’s statement. “I’ll see you at lunch, then.”

      The princess’s nod dismissed her as definitively as the prince had done only a few minutes earlier.

      On her way out, Hannah passed the piano teacher coming in.

      The older woman had a leather bag over her shoulder and determination in her step. Clearly she had a purpose for being here. Hannah had yet to figure out her own.

      The conference call that Michael had rescheduled came through at precisely eleven o’clock and concluded twenty minutes later. A long time after that, he was still struggling to accept what he’d learned about Miss Castillo—high school teacher turned temporary nanny.

      Phillip Marotta had said only that she was a teacher; Michael had assumed that meant she had experience with children. Because he trusted the royal physician implicitly, he had taken the doctor’s recommendation without question. Apparently he should have asked some questions, but he acknowledged that the mistake had been his own.

      Still, despite the new nanny’s apparent lack of experience, he knew that the doctor had stronger reasons than nepotism for suggesting his niece for the job. And from what Brigitte had told him, Riley seemed to accept her easily enough. Of course, his daughter had had so many doctors and teachers and instructors in and out of her life that she accepted most newcomers without any difficulty.

      So why was he uneasy about Miss Castillo’s presence at Cielo del Norte? Was he really concerned about Riley—or himself?

      When Sam died, he’d thought he would never stop grieving the loss. He was certain he would never stop missing her. But over the years, the pain had gradually started to fade, and Riley’s easy affection had begun to fill the emptiness in his heart. He’d been grateful for that, and confident that the love of his little girl was enough.

      He didn’t need romance or companionship—or so he’d believed until Hannah walked into his life. But he couldn’t deny that the new nanny affected him in a way that no woman had done in a very long time.

      A brisk knock at the door gave him a reprieve from these melancholy thoughts.

      “Lunch will be served on the terrace as soon as you’re ready,” Caridad told him.

      He nodded his СКАЧАТЬ