She’d started to smile again, only for me to break it with the dreadedhomework. “I hate homework.”
“I know the feeling,” I commiserate. “What’s your favorite subject?”
“Science. The rest is boring. But why do I have to go to school at all? I am to be queen. Not a scientist. I just didn’t want to have a tutor here in the palace. She smelled like moldy cheese, and I wanted to leave the palace for once.”
Oh boy. “Because there is nothing more powerful than being smart and educated. Especially for a woman. Learn as much as you can, and you’ll be the best queen there is.”
“Can’t you be my teacher?” she counters. “You told us you were an English teacher. My teacher is so strict and I’m by myself. Even when I’m at recess, I have no one to play with.”
I shake my head ruefully. “Sorry there, kiddo. I was hired to be your nanny. Not your teacher. But think up a fun game you want to play later, and we’ll make time to do it.”
That seems to brighten her up, and I have to say, I was worried the girls wouldn’t take to me as well as they did on Saturday when I broke the bust. They already seem comfortable with me, which is such a relief. And Zayer clearly follows whatever his sisters do.
“All right young princesses and prince. I need to get up and get dressed. Do you normally wake this early?” If so, I’ll have to plan ahead.
“Zayer does and he comes in and wakes us up,” Sabrina informs me, still bouncing. “Normally he snuggles in our room, but today we got up early so we could see you. He doesn’t like to be alone.”
Good to know. “And what about breakfast?”
“We usually eat with Tante Althea and the nanny when we have one.”
“And your father?”
“Papa rarely is able to eat with us.”
Even better. Any chance to avoid the king I’ll take.
I help Zayer onto the floor and Sabrina and Phaedra jumpoff my bed, skipping along like it’s ten in the morning instead of six.
“If you give me twenty minutes to wash up, I’ll happily come and join you for breakfast.” And drink coffee. So, so much coffee. All the fucking coffee.
I walk them to the door of my room, wishing my bathrobe wasn’t hanging in the bathroom. I feel a bit exposed with no bra under my thin shirt and tiny shorts that reveal nearly all my legs. I’ll have to start sleeping in something else if they come straight into my room like this.
I pop my head out my door, looking left and right, but there’s no Althea in sight, and I certainly can’t yell for her. I have to imagine something like that is frowned upon and considered crude behavior in a palace.
I turn back to the kids. “Does your aunt normally come and get you or do you go down by yourselves?” I don’t particularly love that idea since Zayer is so little and this palace is massive.
“No. I take them down.”
This man has the most absurd way of catching me off guard. I turn. Slowly. Reluctantly. My face frozen in whatever mask of horror it’s stuck in. I glance up. And up. Because he’s tall. A lot taller than me. And he’s wearing a suit, something fancier than what he was wearing the other day. That was light slacks and a button-down, which in retrospect is kind of odd since he’s the king and I imagined him always dressed more like this.
His suit is dark charcoal with a crisp blue shirt and a tie a shade darker than his shirt, which manages to make his gray-blue eyes almost colorless and clear. Like a wolf. He shaved and I almost wish he hadn’t because that two-day-old stubble he was rocking on his jaw the other day was pure sexy magic and now the dimple indenting his chin is even more prominent, which is a whole new kind of sexy.
Only, I need to stop thinking of him as sexy. Like right now.He may be a sexy asshole, but he’s also my boss, and seeing him as anything else will get me nowhere.
“Oh.” That seems to be my go-to here when I can’t remember language, English or French.
His eyes, those magnificently beautiful glacial fuckers, latch onto mine for less than a second before they trickle down, past my lips, down the slope of my neck, and hold on my nipples. The hard peaks that are one hundred percent saluting him through my nightshirt. His mouth twists into something I can’t discern, and his eyes, well, I can’t read what that is either, even as they continue to trail south, landing on my upper thighs beneath my boy shorts.
“Your Majesty?” I question, and I don’t even know what I’m asking. I’m certainly not about to ask if he likes what he sees. Though the temptation is real in a purely ironic way since I don’t for a second think he likes anything he sees. He regrets me being here already, if his distressed brow is anything to go by.
“Is that what you wear to sleep?”
Oh, that’s just too damn good to pass up. “Sometimes,” I reply, my voice light and airy. “Sometimes I sleep in less.”
His jaw locks, his expression tight, and, yeah, he hates me. But he forced me here when he could have just as easily not been a dick and demanded I leave my life and my job to be his kids’ nanny. If I can make his life a bit of hell for that, all the better. I realize I destroyed something priceless to his family and my father did break into his forbidden palace, but, hell, none of that was malicious.
Still, I’m here. And lucky for him, I do like his kids. Plus, if the income amount on my contract is correct, then I’m earning more than double my previous salary without having to worry about room and board. I can save money. I can pay for my father. I can carve out a path and a life because I’m pretty sure havingroyal nannyon my résumé is gold for future employers.
