“Her, and she doesn’t like football.”
My heart leaps. I shouldn’t care that this girl apparently only has time for one friend, and that friend is not a guy. Trixie would chide me for assuming that means she’s unattached, but this nanny’s reaction to my lingering looks and perhaps too friendly touch doesn’t scream lesbian to me.
“The club president’s wife doesn’t either, but there’s good food and free drinks on the VIP level.”
She shifts again, and I’m not sure if it is purely from physical discomfort. “She might like that.”
Dietrich places a kiss on his daughter’s cheek and puts her back on the floor. The woman takes the little girl’s hand.
“Ready to go, dearest?” Little Darcy makes no attempt to hide a huge yawn. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she giggles. “What do we say to Prince Friedrich?”
“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” The toddler dips into a clumsy curtsy, and her nanny is scarcely more graceful.Definitely an American.
“Your Highness,” she breathes from her bent position.
I take her hand and bring her back to standing, holding her hand to my lips. Her skin is soft and warm,and I catch a hint of a light perfume, floral and maybe a little citrus. Bright and feminine with a whisper of something spicy underneath. I allow my fingers to trail down hers as I let her go, pausing briefly at the very tips and swelling at the goosebumps rising on her arm.
“The pleasure is mine, Miss…” I trail off. How have I not asked her name?
“Aurelia,” the tiny blonde at her side supplies brightly.
I incline my head to her. “Miss Aurelia.”
She blushes again and gives me a small nod. I try not to watch the sway of her hips as she walks away, but her dress hugs her ass just right and how can I help myself? Dietrich’s wife is waiting near the door, holding a snoozing child who is passed off to Aurelia. The women exchange a few words and then she is gone.
Shit.I had been so wrapped up in how beautiful she is that I didn’t even ask for her number. Dietrich is off speaking with one of the other staffers in the prime minister’s office. I can’t ask him anyway; I’d never hear the end of it.
Miles returns to my side, no drink in hand, his signal for ‘let’s fucking go.’ I’m ready too; my interaction with the young Miss Aurelia has my nerves at the ready, and I’m glad for my suit jacket covering certain bits that might be too excited to meet her.
“She was pretty,” my friend observes.
“Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck. “Hang on. I gotta see Rebecca really quick.” I’m already making myway through the mass of people and barely hear Miles’s protests.
“Your Highness.” Rebecca pays me the same greeting as everyone else.
I wave my hand to her. “You don’t need to bother with all that shit, Lady Rebecca.”
Dietrich’s wife had grown up around the palace; her father was Lord Chamberlain for over twenty years, and his family was often present around the palace and at most major parties, balls, and dinners. Rebecca is a couple years older than me and was more like a sibling growing up. That is, until I came home from boarding school for the summer at thirteen and realized she had tits. She showed me once, but I’ll never tell Dietrich.
I lean in to whisper to her. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“You can ask,” she teases.
“I need the number for your nanny.”
She laughs. “Uh oh, Your Highness. Did someone have a little slip up?”
I roll my eyes. “You must be thinking of my brother.” If anyone is going to have a royal oopsie-baby, it’s my younger brother. Claus may be eight years younger than me, but I wouldn’t be surprised if his track record far surpasses mine with the way he carries on.
This garners another laugh from Rebecca. “I saw you talking with her over there.” She gestures behind me somewhere. “She didn’t give it to you then?”
I scrub a hand through my beard. “No, I, erm, forgot to ask.”
“And shedidn’t offer it?”
I shake my head.
Rebecca makes a little humming sound. “I’m not sure I should share it then if she didn’t do so herself.” She’s ribbing me, and I’m strongly reminded of a childhood with her and my cousin hanging about.
“Come on, Rebecca.” I try to keep the desperation from my voice, but I know she can see through me. “You know I can get it another way, but this seems less creepy.”
She taps her chin in fake contemplation. “Still creepy, but less.” She sighs. “Fine.” She pulls her phone from her clutch and I brighten. My phone dings, and I see the contact card in my messages.
“Thanks, Bex.” My old friend smiles at the use of her childhood nickname, and I place a swift kiss on her cheek.
“You owe me, Fritz,” she calls after me as I go back to Miles.
“Flowers are already on their way!” I call back as I type out a message to my personal assistant, Tristan.
