The Nanny Proposition

She stepped in and ran a hand over the silky bed cover. “Did you choose this color scheme?”

“No, my mother had the house redecorated before she and my father moved out a few years ago.”

She walked into the next room along and turned around. Meg’s new nursery had mint green walls and accents in rose pink. The bed had a multihued knitted blanket, and on the walls was a photo series of bright pink tulips. “We should easily fit Meg’s crib and changing table in here along with the bed.”

“No problem to move the bed out if you want.”

Her eyes were drawn back to the bedcover. “Who knitted the blanket?”

“My mother,” he said, a trace of a smile flitting across his face. “My brothers and I each have several of them.”

“And the flower photos?” she asked, pointing to the tulips.

“They’re mine. I take lots of photos in the greenhouse for records. My mother had some of them framed.”

His tone was dismissive, but these were more than mere record keeping. The way the light had been captured hitting the leaves and the angle chosen to accentuate the shape of the petals were masterful. However, she didn’t think he’d appreciate her pointing that out, so she let it drop.

The room next to his, Bonnie’s nursery, had the same tasteful and elegant feel, but it was full of dark wood and tan walls. Masculine and heavy. Perfect for a male guest, but not so appropriate for a baby girl’s room.

Liam winced and threw her an apologetic glance. “Perhaps you could organize this room to be painted.”

“Absolutely. Any thoughts on color?”

“I’ll leave that to you,” he said, glancing out the window and seemingly distracted. “I’ll organize a credit card—it will make redecorating this room and obtaining ongoing things for Bonnie easier. Though if it’s something regular, like formula or diapers, let Katherine know and she can add it to the grocery order.”

“Okay.”

Bonnie fussed in his arms, and Liam’s eyes suddenly had an edge of panic.

Jenna put Meg on the floor with a rattle from her handbag. “Do you want me to take her?”

“That might be best,” he said and gently handed her over.

Jenna looked down at the sweet little baby and ran her hand over the soft, downy hair. “Her hair is so dark. Like yours, actually. Meg was bald when she was born.”

A smile flittered across his mouth then left. “Bonnie’s hair was how I knew for sure she was mine at the hospital.” Frowning, he threw a glance to the door. “Listen, I know you’ve just arrived, but I need to duck out to the greenhouse. I hadn’t expected to miss work this morning, so there are things I need to check on.”

“No problem,” she said, taking the cue. “You go back to work. We’ll be fine here.”

* * *

It seemed it had only been a couple of hours since she’d given Liam the list when a small truck with a stork emblazoned on the side pulled into the paved circular driveway. Liam had obviously found a place that was willing to deliver immediately. It probably helped that money talked.

Two young men jumped out and, with Meg on her hip, she met them at the front door. Bonnie was asleep in Liam’s room in an old basinet Katherine had found. Since Liam’s room was the farthest away from the rest of the house, she’d put the baby down there for the nap, hoping to not disturb her while they set up the nurseries. “We have a delivery for Liam Hawke,” the older man said.

“You’ve got the right place. Thanks for being so quick.”

“All part of the service,” he said. They walked to the truck, rolled up the back and started to unload. Jenna showed them the way to Bonnie’s nursery. The men assembled the new furniture in the living room and left piles of pastel pink crib sheets, blankets and other supplies stacked on the dining room table. Bonnie was lucky that her every need would be taken care of, that she wouldn’t want for anything—yet, there was something a little sad about all her personal things being delivered like a work order. Nothing had been handpicked by someone who loved her.

Though...had things already been bought for her? Bonnie’s mother must have been prepared for a newborn. Had she lovingly chosen little clothes, searched for and selected a charming crib and linen? Dreamed about playing lullabies as her baby went to sleep? Jenna’s throat felt thick with emotion.

“That’s it,” the delivery man said from behind her. “Mr. Hawke paid over the phone, so I just need you to sign for the delivery.” He handed her a clipboard with some papers attached.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the clipboard then setting Meg down on the carpet.

As she put pen to paper to sign for the order, she hesitated for a moment before remembering her name. Jenna Peters. She’d had the name for more than a year now; surely soon it would become second nature to use it?

But even as she signed the fake name and handed the form back, she knew the truth—she’d always be Princess Jensine Larsen, youngest of the five children of the reigning queen of Larsland. A princess who’d never put a foot wrong in her twenty-three years until she made one mistake big enough to obliterate that record.

She’d become pregnant out of wedlock.

At first the news hadn’t been too bad—she and Alexander were in love and had been planning to marry one day. They’d just have to move the date forward. And tell their families. Their relationship had been a secret—after a life lived in the public eye, she’d just wanted one thing that was hers alone. She grimaced. People always said to be careful what you wish for. Now her entire life was lived in secret.

They’d planned on telling their families when Alexander came home from his latest military deployment. But Alexander hadn’t come home. He’d been killed in the line of duty, leaving her grieving and pregnant, with no chance of salvaging her honor.

She hadn’t been able to tell her parents and face their disappointment. Perhaps worst of all, once the local press found out, it would have tarnished the reputation of the royal family, something she’d been brought up to avoid at all costs. A royal family that had, unlike many of its European neighbors, avoided any hint of scandal in its modern history. The situation would have dealt Larsland royalty its final blow in an age when people were questioning the need for royalty at all.

She’d only been able to see one way out. She’d fled the country and set up a new identity in Los Angeles with the aid of a childhood friend, Kristen, who now worked in the royal security patrol. Jenna had originally planned to run to the United Kingdom because she’d been there before and it had a population large enough to lose herself in, but Kristen had a friend in the United States who’d worked with her on an exchange program a couple of years ago and was now in a position to help. Kristen and her U.S. counterpart were now the only two people who knew both who she really was and precisely where she was. She was sure her parents would have used her passport’s trail to track her to the U.S., but it was a big country.

She’d been sending vague updates to her family through Kristen so they knew she was okay, and the press and citizens had been told she was overseas studying. In retrospect, the plan had several flaws, not least of which was that she couldn’t be “overseas studying” for the rest of her life. But she’d been panicking and grieving when she’d made the plan and couldn’t see a way out now it was in place.

She’d worried that she’d put Kristen’s job in jeopardy, but her friend had assured her that her job was probably the safest of anyone’s in the patrol. The queen needed Kristen right where she was in case Jenna needed specialized help, and to keep the updates coming.

As the truck turned a corner in the driveway and drove out of sight, she closed the door and picked Meg up.

“Shall we see what goodies were delivered for Bonnie?” she asked. Meg gurgled in reply and Jenna kissed the top of her head.

Liam came across the back patio, toed off his shoes at the door and waved to her through the open living areas that connected the front door to the back.

“Was that the baby supplies arriving?”

“Yes. They assembled the furniture so we just need to put it into position and bring the other pieces into the nurseries.”

“We can do that now if you want,” he said, resting his hands low on his hips.

“Bonnie’s still asleep in your room, so it would be good timing.”

They spent twenty minutes moving an extra chest of drawers into Meg’s nursery and a single bed out of Bonnie’s to make way for the new crib. Once they were done, they sat on the rug on the floor in Bonnie’s nursery, Meg playing with a stuffed velvet frog that had been in the delivery, Liam taking sheets, blankets and baby clothes out of their plastic packets and Jenna unpacking the baby creams and lotions and setting them up on the new changing table.

Liam’s deep voice broke the silence. “Is your accent Danish?”

She hesitated. Was telling him her true homeland risky? She’d been telling people she was Danish, just on the off chance they’d seen a photo of her before and the name of her country jogged their memory. But for some reason she didn’t want to lie to Liam Hawke any more than it was necessary. Perhaps because he was trusting her with his daughter—the ultimate act for a parent—she felt that she’d be betraying him somehow with a lie she could avoid.

“I’m from Larsland. It’s an archipelago of islands in the Baltic Sea. We’re not far from Denmark and people often get our accents mixed up.”

“I’ve heard of it. Lots of bears and otters.”

“That’s us,” she said, smiling.