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The camera made him look good, it accurately captured his patrician features, all hard angles and intriguing carved hollows, the tummy-quivering gleam in his heavy-lidded silver-grey eyes with the famous long lashes, his masterful nose and the much-raved-about sexy mouth.
Kate had always privately suspected that the real in-the-flesh man would be a bit of a let-down. She’d been prepared for it. What she hadn’t been ready for was the fact that no photo could do him justice. It did not even hint at the skin-peelingly raw masculinity he exuded or his physical presence so strong it seemed to suck the oxygen from the room, or at least her lungs.
Her chin lifted as she tried to regain a little dignity. As first impressions went...maybe he had a sense of humour but, looking at his fallen-angel dark face, she decided it was doubtful.
‘I’m Kate Armstrong, the new nanny.’
She took a step forward and held out her hand, dropping it a couple of humiliating moments later when he showed no sign of taking it.
God, perhaps it was against the law to touch his royal personage.
‘Should I curtsey?’ The words were out before she could stop them.
Marco’s eyes slid to the high but loose neckline of her nightdress. His eyes darkened a shade to steel.
‘Probably not.’
The way his eyes slid downwards made Kate remember for the first time that she was just in her nightdress. The knowledge that it was the sort of nightdress your grandmother would approve of eased her flurry of sink-through-the-floor horror.
‘I appreciate your efforts to protect Freya, but the next time maybe just press the panic button...?’ The sardonic suggestion sent the heat flying back to her cheeks. She resented the fact he could make her feel a total idiot just by lifting one of his eyebrows.
‘Oh, gosh, yes, definitely,’ she agreed, nodding her agreement and vowing there would not be a next time. She wouldn’t give the sarcastic superior devil the satisfaction to patronise her. ‘But I wasn’t in bed. I couldn’t sleep, it’s so hot.’
She pulled at the neck of her nightdress, seemingly oblivious to the provocativeness of the action.
‘A storm is coming,’ Marco said, feeling the prickles of attraction like a rash across his overheated flesh as he dragged his glance upwards, only to have it fall on her soft sensual mouth with the promise of... He brought his line of speculation to an abrupt control-claiming halt.
This was crazy. There were any number of attractive women working at the palace, which proudly proclaimed itself an equal opportunities employer, but it was irrelevant to Marco. There was a code—which his father had never quite got his head around—which meant that there were things a man in his position did not do, and that was sleep with a woman who called him Highness, or sir, or, in this case,Freya’s dad.
The fact was his annoyance was not about her uncontrollable flamelike hair or her sensual mouth, or the sledgehammer attraction hit her appearance had delivered. It was the fact that she was wrong for the job, too young, too much of a temptation for staff less controlled than he was. He wanted a calming, stable influence for his daughter, he told himself, choosing to forget the occasions recently when his daughter’s lack of spontaneity and mischief had caused him the occasional passing concern, enough concern for him to ask his mother’s opinion.
‘Freya is a sweet little thing. We have lovely cosy chats. She is not the least bit like you. I never had a moment’s peace worrying about what you’d do next.’
Her response had eased his concerns, even though his mother had not to his knowledge ever worried about his welfare. That arduous task had been delegated to nanny. Pretty well nothing disturbed his parent’s serenity, which as far as he could tell was achieved by deciding that she simply wouldn’t see or hear anything that wasn’tnice,including her husband’s in-house mistress.
Kate shivered. She had never liked storms much, though she wondered if the electricity she felt in the air was entirely to do with atmospheric conditions and was not connected in some small way to the gleam in his slitted sliver eyes.
‘How long is your trial for, Miss Armstrong?’ he asked.
Kate, who had been surreptitiously edging towards the door, froze at the abrupt question.‘Trial?’She looked at him, her nose wrinkling as she focused, or tried to. This had been a long day that had been topped by making a total fool of herself in front of her new boss. She expelled a slow steadying breath. She’d seen the clause in her contract but had not really paid it much notice.
‘Six months...oh...’ Comprehension dawned. ‘I do know how important continuity is for a child,’ she told him earnestly. ‘I would never leave you in the lurch,’ she went on to assure him, sounding shocked at the idea of such dereliction of duty. ‘I’m yours until Freya starts school formally.’ Seven seemed late to Kate, but, as the educational system on the island was envied around the world, she was willing to learn. In fact, she was eager.
‘You are mine,’ Marco mocked and was punished for his cruelty, or rewarded, depending on your viewpoint, by a rush of hormonal heat. This was more than slightly insane. He had gone too long without.
It was an obvious explanation for this explosion of unprecedented lust. His recent work-pleasure balance had of late been pretty heavily skewed in favour of work. He needed to make the effort, though that was part of the problem. There was no effort.
He knew most women he was attracted to would be available, not because of his irresistible charm, but because of who he was, and if he was honest the entireeffortinvolved in the mating ritual had become...tiresome. Boredom had set in. It was all so predictable, as was the inevitable post-coital guilt that followed those moments of mind-blanking pleasure when he forgot, when he lost himself in sex. No matter how mind-blowing the sex was, he paid the price in guilt, theemptyfeeling.
Kate watched the Prince rub the gold marriage band on his finger with his thumb, a reminder of what he’d lost, but it didn’t make his mockery any more palatable or this situation any more comfortable.
‘I’m your employee and I’d frankly feel more comfortable discussing my role here during office hours and when I’m not jet-lagged and likely to say something I’ll regret.’ She registered from the look of astonishment that washed over his face that she probably already had. She was too tired and stressed by the situation to care much. ‘Goodnight, and sorry to disturb you... Your...’
There was a sudden loud rumble of thunder, the vibration continuing long after the sound died. It wasn’t the only vibration. The sudden shock had made her flinch and drawn a soft cry of shock from her lips. It also affected her centre of gravity. She had the oddest feeling of being drawn towards his mid-section, which looked as solid as iron. Her delicate fingers flexed as she made a conscious effort to redress the balance, quite literally.
She’d heard about male magnetism before, but she’d never actually felt the tug personally.
She was shaking. Marco could see the fine tremors running through her body. Sympathy overrode the justified irritation he felt towards her having been dropped into his neatly managed life, a small piece that didn’t fit and skewed the neat symmetry of the whole.
