Название: Betrothed to the Prince
Автор: Raye Morgan
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781408945193
isbn:
“No doubt about it.” The cook turned and spoke to the kitchen maid. “Milla, call the orphanage. Tell them we’ll be sending another baby over.”
Tianna looked up, frowning. She hated to think of letting this little angel go. “Don’t you think we should call the police? And perhaps, Children’s Services?”
“Children’s Services? Oh my, no. We’ll call the Nabotavian Orphanage, that’s what we’ll do. They’ll take her. We Nabotavians like to take care of our own.” She frowned at Tianna. “Aren’t you a daughter of the Rose nation, my dear?”
“Yes, of course I am.”
“Been in this country a little too long, though, haven’t you? Started to think like an American. Just like my young prince. It’s a good thing we’ll all be going back soon.” She shook her head. “We’ve almost lost our heritage, I do declare.”
“So you’re preparing for the return?”
“We’re at sixes and sevens, my dear. All this moving back to Nabotavia has the entire staff in an up-roar.” She looked overwhelmed by it all. “The housekeeper left a week ago to manage the preparations at Red Rose Palace and she took some of our best workers with her. She left Mr. Harva, the butler, in charge, and he immediately ran off with the pastry chef. Now I’m left to try to keep things from falling apart here, and heaven knows I have my hands full.”
The little maid returned at that moment, walking into the kitchen with a bouncy step. “The orphanage can’t take her. They’ve got chicken pox. They can’t take anyone new for at least four days.”
“Oh my heavens! What’s next?” The cook turned to Tianna, shaking her head.
Tianna looked from the cook to the baby and back again. Hesitating, she recognized that she was at a crossroads. She could hand the baby back and identify herself, and everything would change. She would be the princess and escorted to the other side of the house where she would be given a beautiful bedroom for the night and probably not see this baby again.
Or she could let them think she was a mere job seeker and stick around for a while. She looked down into the baby’s face. The lower lip was trembling and the huge blue eyes were clouded. A wave of protective affection seized her. The child felt so soft and snuggly and she smelled like something fresh and new—which was exactly what she was. But she was also so helpless. Tianna hadn’t been quite this young, but she had known what it was to be helpless and lost. She didn’t wish that on anyone, especially not this innocent. Someone had to make sure nothing bad happened to her. And since she’d had plenty of experience helping with her sister’s baby, she supposed she was the one to do it.
“I…well, I suppose I could help….”
“And what is your name, child?”
Her chin lifted. “Tianna Rose.” It was the name she went by in daily life, and would do for the moment. No one would connect it to the Katianna Roseanova-Krimorova who was betrothed to the prince.
“Ah, a Rose, are you?” The cook nodded knowingly. “Related to the royal family by any chance?”
Tianna met her gaze levelly but she wasn’t prepared to outright lie. “Perhaps.”
“Ah, yes. Everyone likes to claim a little relationship here and there.” The cook smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure you have the usual references. Well, we can put you to work, I think. Somebody is going to have to take care of this baby, and I don’t dare let Milla do it. She’d probably leave it out in the yard again.” She smiled hopefully. “What do you know about the nanny business, Tianna Rose?”
For Prince Garth, driving his Porsche was a major part of the joy of life. Sleek and silver, his car purred like a giant cat and was so responsive to his handling, it reminded him of a sensual woman. Maybe that was why, as he drove up the winding driveway, returning from an afternoon of boring meetings in town with lawyers and business managers, his thoughts went to the lovely woman he’d met that morning in the gazebo.
He could still feel the way her curves had fit against his body and the memory stirred his reactions in a way that made him laugh at himself. She was certainly a tempting bit of luscious femininity—which should put him on guard, as he’d recently sworn off women altogether.
Women! They never played fair. Even those who agreed to ground rules from the beginning—vowing to keep things light and playful, swearing there would be no hearts involved, ended up wanting commitments and long-range promises in the end. And if you rebuffed their come-on advances, they usually found a way to make you pay.
He was still reeling from his last scandal involving a woman he hadn’t even kissed. She’d told the tabloids a wild tale of sex in public places and orgies on yachts and all because he’d stopped taking her phone calls. Sometimes you couldn’t win for losing.
On the other hand, he hated to think of how many women he’d hurt over the years. But their hearts seemed to break so easily. He’d finally come to the conclusion that it was better just to stay completely out of the game. After all, he was betrothed. He didn’t need to search for a mate, so why not give up women for the time being?
Still, the lovely yet dangerous visitor intrigued him. She’d said she was a photographer, yet all evidence suggested she was here to apply for the pastry chef position. Hopefully, she was going to be preparing tempting confections for him from now on. That thought made him smile again. Leaving his car out front for Homer, the chauffeur, to deal with, he went straight into the kitchen and greeted Cook with a peck on the cheek.
“There you are,” she said in a harried fashion. “Will you be having your dinner here tonight, then?”
“Yes, I think I will.” He glanced around the kitchen but didn’t catch sight of the woman he was searching for.
“Good.” Cook gave him a baleful look. “You’ve been out gallivanting too much lately. It’ll do you good to stay at home for a change. Any guests?”
“No.” He peered around the kitchen, noting Milla shelling peas and a thin stranger cleaning off a counter. “What happened to the new pastry chef?”
Cook nodded in the direction of the slender woman. “There she is. She’s hard at work.”
Garth did a double take and frowned. “No, I mean the other one.” He turned to the older woman in alarm. “You didn’t hire her?”
“Oh, that one.” She waved a hand in the air. “Tianna, you mean. Yes, she’s still here. She agreed to be nanny to that baby that was found in the yard, at least until the orphanage can take her—or someone shows up to claim her. She’s probably up in the nursery right now…”
But Garth was already on his way, whistling as he went. Tianna. So that was her name. A lovely and typically Nabotavian name, a lovely and typically Nabotavian girl. Against all his better judgements, he was looking forward to seeing her again. Although he had a rather inflated reputation as a playboy, he had never actually dallied with the help. It wasn’t his style. But then, the help had never been quite so beautiful before. There was always the exception that proved the rule.
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