Rose stared at him, unsure of what to say. The last hour had been utterly perfect. Candles, twinkling lights, champagne under the stars . . . what more could a girl ever ask for? And Diego, sitting across from her, so devastatingly gorgeous and sexy that she felt like an awkward, naïve schoolgirl. She didn’t belong here . . . and yet he insisted she did.

And now he was saying things that made her hope for the fairy tale. And fairy tales were the one thing she didn’t believe in. It wasn’t that she was bitter. It was more a case of knowing how the world worked, and knowing that happiness had to be earned. Girls like her didn’t have a prince fall into their lap.

“You don’t believe me,” he said gently. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “It’s not you. It’s that . . . I don’t believe something like this could happen to someone like me. I don’t trust it. It’s too surreal.”

“And yet here we are. And you don’t have to trust it. You just have to trust me. Can you?”

Her heart stuttered. “I want to,” she admitted. “And that scares me.”

“Because of our differences.”

“Because I’m not princess material. I’m the help. Even Cecilia . . . she was from a wealthy family, was she not? She fit into this world nicely. I’d simply be awkward and always worried about doing the wrong thing. Saying the wrong thing.”

“Don’t be silly. You’ve been working for the upper class for years and have more class in your little finger than most women do in their whole body. This almost sounds like reverse snobbery, Rosalie Walters.” He lifted his brows, challenging her.

She held out her glass and he drained the last few drops of the champagne into it. If she was going to confide in him at all, she needed a touch more liquid courage.

“And what would people say if they knew my background?” She drank deeply, ran her tongue over her lips, and savored the last taste. “I’m from a working-class family. My address isn’t in the swanky part of town. My brother is a vicar, and he and his wife barely make ends meet. Then there’s my sister . . .”

“What about her?” Diego leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee.

“She had a baby when she was still in school. The father took off and left her alone, and she thought that I should be her nanny, considering I had all the training. When I said no, that I was signing on with an agency, she was furious.” More than furious, Rose remembered. She’d said all kinds of hurtful things. “She said that I’d never find a man of my own to give me babies so I was going to look after someone else’s. And that I wouldn’t look after hers because I was jealous because at least someone had wanted her. The press could easily dig that up and make a case about Hayley’s sour grapes. It’s better for everyone if I stay in the background.” It hurt her deeply to say it, but it was the truth.

She swallowed against the bitter taste in her mouth. Hayley knew how to be vicious. Rose had always been a bit of a wallflower. She’d had a few brief relationships in university but no one, ever, had fallen head over heels in love with her. Hayley’s words hit a sore spot because they’d felt true.

All the same, Rose loved her work. It was incredibly fulfilling.

“So you don’t have a good relationship,” Diego said, frowning a little. “Is that really a problem?”

“We get along better now. But she’s young, and trying to make ends meet in London. I send what I can so that they . . . so they have enough. And I try to spend some quality time with Alice when I’m in the city. But Diego, don’t you see? If you want to stay out of the rags, dating someone like me isn’t the way to do it. The press is sure to dig up stuff on my family and our working-class roots.” Her heart sank as she realized her faith in her sister wasn’t that strong. “And despite getting along better, I wouldn’t put it past Hayley to make the most of it, either. I have a freedom that she doesn’t. And even though she loves me, she resents that. As much as I hate to say it, I know she could be bought.”

Diego reached over and took her hand in his. His fingers were strong and warm, and he rubbed his thumb over her wrist.

“The thing about the tabloids is that they’ll write stories anyway, whether they have a basis in fact or not. So no matter who I date, there’s a certain level of damage control to be done. And Rose? I’m finished letting the paparazzi dictate my life. I decided that the moment I saw the news of the car wreck on the pub TV screen. There were camera flashes going the whole time, using our tragedy for their profit. My life decisions are not going to be made based on what the press might say. And they certainly won’t keep me from being happy. Life is too short.” He held her gaze. “Too precious.”

Nothing he’d said was as comforting as his last words. There was a strength and integrity to them that she appreciated, and they showed her once more who the real Diego was. He was a strong, behind-the-scenes man who put family first, with a definite romantic side. How could she be immune to that, particularly when he didn’t seem to care one bit about her background?

“I’m glad to hear it,” she answered, relaxing a little.

“Rose, I want to be with you. Is that so bad?”

“Of course not.”

“Then let’s see how it goes, shall we?”

“And what if it doesn’t work out, Diego? What then?” She wasn’t sure how she’d feel about working at the palace, having Diego coming and going, and not hers. Not . . . friends.

He twined his fingers with hers. “Then I will do what I’ve been threatening to do for a long time, and set up my office elsewhere. Outside the palace.” His gaze searched hers. “Before you arrived, I was hardly ever here. I never had a reason to stay.”

“The children . . .”

“They had Ceci and Mariana, and their father. And once you arrived, I didn’t need to be here anymore. But I am. And it’s because of you, Rose.”

He was very good at giving speeches, and at making her all mushy and sappy. “It strikes me as surreal every day. Like I’m going to wake up and find that I’ve only imagined that you really care for me. That this is really happening. But it’s real. And I’m scared, Diego. The idea of this working out is too huge to comprehend. And the idea that it won’t hurts my heart.”

“Then don’t think about that. Just think about this.”

He stood and tugged at her hand, pulling her into his arms. She expected him to kiss her, but he didn’t. He just folded her into his arms and held her close.

And in that moment, with her face against the crisp fabric of his shirt, the scent of him filling her nostrils, and the warmth of his arms around her body, she felt herself fall into love for the first time in her life.

* * *

For two weeks, Rose and Diego caught stolen moments alone. Once, when he brought her coffee while the children were napping after a vigorous swim in the pool, he fed her little almond cookies and kissed the crumbs off her face. Another time he took her on a proper tour of the palace, pointing out the works of art lining the hallways and the impressive ballroom that was used for parties. His sister had been presented at a state ball there, he told her, and accepted as a princess even though she was the illegitimate daughter of King Alexander. He squeezed her hand when he told her that story, as if to say she wouldn’t be the first to challenge the royal status quo.

There were long talks over glasses of red wine in the evenings, but after a while Rose knew that eventually the sneaking around would have to stop. She had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, she felt guilty about hiding their relationship, and it was difficult to steal time together. On the other hand, she knew that once they went public, everything would change.

Diego came to her one evening and sat across from her in her suite. “So, next week is Raoul’s birthday, and we’ve decided to throw a party. Nothing too fancy.”

“What’s your definition of too fancy?” she asked, crossing her leg over her knee and taking a sip of a particularly nice tempranillo.

He grinned. “Well, there will be . . . people. Probably a hundred or so. But not official like a state dinner or anything. We’ll have food. A giant cake. Some dancing. The children are requested to attend through the dinner, but then they can go to bed after that.”

“And Raoul isn’t telling me this why?” She wondered why Diego was the one letting her know the plans for the children instead of their father. Most communication regarding specific requests came from him or through Stephani.

“Oh, he will. Tomorrow. We’ve been discussing it for a few weeks now. Invitations have gone out. The menu’s been decided.”

“I see. I’ll be sure to have the children ready. Will they be needing new outfits?” She smiled softly. “Emilia would probably love a new dress. Maybe we could go shopping.”

“You should get one for you, too,” he suggested. “You’ll be accompanying the children.”

“I will?” Her brows pulled together. “But surely I’ll just deliver them to the party, as I always do, and retrieve them after dinner?”

“Not this time.” He sat back against the sofa cushions. “Before, they always had Cecilia to keep them in line at a big function. Not three bachelors. They need a steadying hand.”

She imagined going to such a party and instantly felt overwhelmed. “You want me to sit with the children?”

“Yes. At the head table, to keep an eye on them.”

To keep an eye on the children. Not as his date. Strictly as the nanny. Which was as it should be, so why was she disappointed?

This together / not together thing was more difficult than she’d expected. What were they even doing? Playing at a relationship? The kind where he put on his tuxedo, sash, and medals and sat to the left of the king, and she sat at the end of the table, making sure children used their napkins and otherwise being invisible? And then getting together behind closed doors and talking about how much they cared about each other? It was no way to run anything.

“You don’t look happy,” he observed, leaning forward. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up and met his gaze. “Diego, what are we doing?” she whispered, unable to keep the note of longing out of her voice. “We can’t be together in public, we can’t keep going on like this. It sounded all right in the beginning, but weren’t we just fooling ourselves?”

He reached out for her hand. “Don’t say that. You know I care about you. You’re not just the nanny, you know that.” He turned her hand over and kissed the base of her palm. “There’s something special between us. And going to the party makes you visible, yes? Why not ease you into the spotlight? We already have the pictures from the market that day. A few more family appearances will make it seem like you’re one of the family more and more . . . to everyone.”

“You mean, to Raoul and your father. To ease them into the idea.”

He smiled. “Yes, now you’re getting it.”

Her heart trembled. She should have listened to her gut all along. It wasn’t even that Diego was a bad guy—he wasn’t. But she’d been in lukewarm relationships before. Easing into anything sounded lackluster at best, and certainly not the action of a man who was ready to stand up and make her his.

At first she’d thought propriety was her biggest concern. But she realized, quite suddenly, that there was something bigger at play. Maybe there was something to what Hayley had said after all, about how Rose looked after other people’s children because she didn’t think she’d have any of her own. Unintentional or not, she wondered if perhaps she considered herself such a wallflower that no one would ever take notice. Would ever give her the fairy tale.

Fairy tales, she realized, were horribly overrated. Reality was very different from being whisked away into a perfect fantasy. Reality, in fact, felt like navigating a professional and personal minefield.

She kept her gaze level as she looked at Diego. “You know, you could just tell them that we’ve been seeing each other. See what they say.” Her heart clenched a bit. There was always the chance that she’d be sacked, but it would be worse if they found out on their own.

He frowned. “I just think the party isn’t the time, you know?” He got up from the sofa and paced a bit. “The timing’s a bit tricky. Remember how I talked about damage control a few weeks ago? There are so many things to consider about the party. And guests coming from around Marazur and other countries. When we talk to Raoul and my father, it should be something we can discuss and make a plan forward.”

He put his hands on his hips and looked down at her.

“You have always struck me as spontaneous. Impulsive,” she replied, folding her hands in her lap. He didn’t need to see them shaking.

He came and sat by her side. “Darling, I am. But my family has to be handled with care. I don’t want to start a paparazzi firestorm. I want to show them I care for you but also that I want to work with them to make this the easiest it can be for the monarchy.”

She stiffened. “I didn’t realize I was a problem to be solved.”

“You’re not!”

“Of course I am,” she replied. “I am an issue that needs to be handled. Strategized.”

“That sounds cold.” He touched her knee. “Just come to the party. Enjoy yourself.” His gaze was so warm and intense that she didn’t want to look away. Felt herself being convinced by those dark depths and his honeyed voice. “Please, querida. Be a part of our family for the evening.”

“But I wouldn’t be there as a part of your family. That’s what you don’t seem to understand.” If Raoul dictated it, she’d have no choice. But for right now, she did.

She removed his hand from her leg. “Diego, for the past two weeks, we’ve had some amazing stolen moments together. But for me to go to this dinner . . . I wouldn’t be able to pretend I wasn’t the nanny. And I would feel like . . . well, like I was the plaything that the papers called me.”

She got up from the sofa. “I think I need to think about us for a bit, Diego. Maybe it would be better if we didn’t see each other for a few days. This is so confusing.”

“That’s what you want?”

“Yes, it is.”

He nodded. “I know this situation is a lot to handle and it can be overwhelming. If you need some time to think, I’ll respect that. I would never want to hurt you, Rose. Just know that I want you to be there.” His voice softened. “I want you to feel you belong there.”

Her throat tightened, and a stinging took up residence just behind her nose. “I know that,” she answered, and it was true. She knew he didn’t want to hurt her, but she also saw that he didn’t know how to fight for her. It didn’t have to be a grand gesture to the whole world, but perhaps, if this party was truly a big thing, he could have an honest chat with Raoul about his feelings. About their feelings.

That he was backing away felt like a letdown, even if it was cushioned by respect.

She cleared her throat. “I’ll speak to Stephani about a dress for Emilia tomorrow, and anything else the children might need.” And for arrangements that didn’t include her sitting with the family at dinner. The Prince’s Plaything. The Palace Plaything. The Playboy’s Plaything. There were any number of variations, but all of them were the same. Maybe their feelings for each other were genuine, but in the eyes of the world, she would always be the help. A gold digger. Perhaps an opportunist. And she was starting to realize that the potential labels really did bother her. She and Diego had been self-indulgent these last few weeks, and it had to stop.

They either had to go into this all the way or not at all. There was no “easing” in. If she was worth it, if they were worth it, Diego had to stop worrying about fighting with her and start fighting for her. Until he was willing to do that, it would be better to cool things off.

“I need to get some sleep now, Diego. Maybe we should call it a night.”

He placed his half-full wineglass next to the bottle, and put his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want to leave you this way,” he said quietly. ”I promise, Rose, I didn’t come here to upset you. I’m trying to do the right thing and in the right way. Remember, this is all new territory for me, too.”

The confession softened her resolve just a little bit. “I’m not upset,” she said, which was only a half-lie. “I mean, I really do need to think. We always knew this was going to be complicated.” Though she hadn’t thought it would be this complicated. Still, if Diego couldn’t tell his family about her, how could he expect her to face the world, which wouldn’t be nearly as understanding or kind?

A flash of hurt crossed his face before he sighed. “Then I guess all I can say for now is buenas noches,” he whispered, and kissed her forehead. “If you need anything—and I mean anything—over the next few days, I’ll either be down at the stables or in my office. I’m still working on that education program snag.”

He was a good man; she knew that.

But being a good man wasn’t the issue. Navigating the ins and outs of a complicated relationship was. They had to be completely united in their approach, and Rose wasn’t convinced he really understood her perspective—or if he ever would.