For a moment Rose was panic-stricken. Royalty? Could she even curtsey? She couldn’t do it—not a chance!
Why not? Hadn’t she made the successful transition from a small farm in Ireland to Raffa’s fabulous facility in the heart of Spain? Surviving six brothers meant she was no shrinking violet, and a working life was all about exploring possibilities. So long as entertaining royalty didn’t involve feathers or veils, she was up for it.
‘On board his yacht,’ Rose murmured thoughtfully.
‘He uses thePegasusas a floating office and entertainment centre,’ Adena explained.
‘I see,’ Rose murmured, wishing she had more experience to draw on. It wasn’t her ability to adapt to these new demands that concerned her, but her naivete where men were concerned. Flirting at the wedding was one thing, but being enclosed on a yacht for a week with a man she found so devastatingly attractive...six brothers looking over her shoulder and a drunken father in the background hadn’t exactly given Rose much chance to learn about men.
She’d done okay so far, Rose reasoned. She’d just have to rise to the occasion, and hope Raffa didn’t do the same.
Landing by helicopter on a swaying deck in the dark was quite an experience. There was no sign of Raffa in the welcoming committee, which consisted of two uniformed stewards who had obviously expected Rose to arrive with a great deal of luggage.
Shouldering her backpack, she smiled her thanks as a man who introduced himself as the purser helped her down. To say the ground was shifting beneath her feet was an understatement, but she was determined to make the most of this new adventure.
Try telling yourself that when you can’t get a signal on your phone, or your balance on the deck!Clinging to the rail, she smiled brightly at the purser as he waited patiently for Rose to follow him. This was the experience of a lifetime, she reminded herself, not a trial by ordeal.
Once they were inside the spectacular interior of the mammoth yacht, Rose began to relax, though another shock was waiting when the purser showed her into her quarters. She had expected something small and cramped in the bowels of the ship, but he had just opened a pair of grand double doors on the most amazing suite of rooms.
‘All for me?’ She breathed like a muppet as she took in what looked more like an upscale penthouse than a cabin on a ship.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ the purser replied. ‘All for you.’
Two very different worlds had just collided. She knew horses could often cross the boundaries of race, wealth and class, and Rose had always been comfortable working alongside Raffa on his ranch, but here she felt...completely at sea?
‘I hope you’ll be comfortable,’ the purser said as he showed her around the most sumptuous accommodation imaginable.
‘Are you sure this is where I’m supposed to be staying?’
‘If you’d prefer another suite—’
That wasn’t what she’d meant at all. ‘This is absolutely perfect.’ If entirely over the top for a groom. Alarm bells started ringing when she stared at the emperor-sized bed.
‘You’ll find the dressing room is stocked with most things you’ll need,’ the purser continued, ‘but if there’s anything else you can think of that’s missing, we can have it flown in by helicopter.’
Of course they could, Rose marvelled. ‘Well, this is wonderful.’ And miraculous. How did they even know her size?
Leading her through to a dressing room with the dimensions of a conventional lounge, the purser opened drawers and cupboards on an array of high-end goods.
‘Sorry to repeat myself,’ Rose said, frowning, ‘but are you sure all this is for me?’
‘Señorita Adena was asked to fill out a list of things you might like.’
Adena? Ah, that solved the mystery, but why hadn’t Raffa asked Rose straight out? Didn’t he trust her to ask for the right things to fit with his lifestyle on board the yacht?
The thrill of looking around made Raffa’s presumption fade away. Not only had Adena proved to be the best of friends, she’d done the most excellent job.
‘You’ll find a letter detailing plans for each day,’ the purser informed Rose. ‘In your free time, you may use the swimming pool on the sun deck, where you can call for drinks and snacks. Please enjoy the rest of your day.’
‘You’re very kind.’ She had to force herself to walk slowly to the door as she showed him out, but the moment the door had closed behind him she rushed back to pounce on the letter. Ripping the envelope open, she pulled out a note. Embossed with the logo of a flying horse, it said in Raffa’s bold black script:
You will be dining in the open-air salon tonight at eight o’clock. Dress: casual.
Casual, as in banged-up jeans and an old faded top? She doubted it. Shower first, with the suit she normally wore for interviews hanging in the bathroom to steam out the creases. A fresh blouse later, and she’d be ready for whatever lay ahead.
The temptation to take a quick tour of the outfits in her dressing room proved irresistible. It would be rude not to. Adena had gone to so much trouble. These were clothes Rose had only seen in magazines before. Caution was not a word she would use in connection with them. Glamour was the watchword here.
‘I miss you, Adena,’ Rose murmured as she stared in awe. ‘And I promise to wear at least one of these fabulous gowns, if only as a nightdress...’
