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Undercover Princess
Undercover Princess
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Undercover Princess

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He stood and turned to face her, and Katherine hurriedly erased her smile and shifted her gaze to one of the framed watercolors that hung on the wall, pretending to be completely absorbed in the shades of blue used in the ocean scene.

Trey Sutherland didn’t know where Bill Lewis was. But he believed it likely that Mr. Lewis could “drop in” at any time. If Katherine truly wanted to find Mr. Lewis, and she did, then—

He was looking at her. He was making noises of agreement into the telephone and, while he thought she wasn’t paying him any mind, he was sneaking a look at…her legs?

That was absurd. If anyone was going to dare to look at a princess’s legs, he would look at Alexandra’s or Elizabeth’s legs, not Katherine’s. While her legs weren’t precisely unattractive, she simply didn’t dress in a manner to draw a man’s eyes in that direction. That is, assuming the man was bold enough to check out a princess in the first place. Most men weren’t.

But, of course, Trey Sutherland had no idea that Katherine was a princess. Trey Sutherland thought that Katherine was in his office to apply for a job as a nanny.

He hung up the phone. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right.”

In the brighter light of his office, she saw that there was a trace of silver at his temples. And his eyes really were a quite disarming shade of blue. His gaze swept over her again in a most disconcerting way. This time, it wasn’t so much checking her out as assessing. Taking stock. Studying. There was nothing disrespectful about it—he was simply doing it in an extremely male way.

“You’re younger than I’d hoped you’d be,” he said bluntly, coming around to sit in the other leather armchair in front of his desk.

Katherine blinked at him. “Younger…?”

“This is a live-in position,” he explained. “If you’ve got a husband and family—”

“I don’t. Have a husband, I mean.”

“A boyfriend?”

She felt herself blush. “No.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.” This was absurd. This man’s questions were so direct as to be rude. And she wasn’t even here to be hired on as a nanny. “How old are you?” Oh dear, where had that come from?

But he answered her. “Thirty-five. At least until the beginning of January, and then I’ll be thirty-six.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“No, that’s fair. You’ve got every right to ask as many questions as you want. This interview is a two-way street. Do you like kids?”

She was blinking at him again. “Do I…?”

“Yeah, I know. It seems like a stupid question considering the job you’re applying for, but I’ve run across more than my share of people claiming to be nannies who don’t particularly like the children they’ve been hired to care for. They don’t particularly like children at all.” His eyes were hot with intensity as he leaned toward her. “My kids need to be respected and liked at the very least. And you better believe if I could pay you to love them, I would.”

He stood up suddenly, as if he’d given too much away, or if there was a limit to how long he could contain his sheer energy and stay seated in a chair.

“My turn to apologize,” he said, as he moved behind his desk. “Our last nanny left without even saying goodbye to Stacy and Doug. It’s important to me that I find someone who fully understands the extent of the burden I’m placing upon them. These are kids who know too damn well what it means to be deserted, and—I’m getting way ahead of myself. I haven’t even asked you your name.”

“I do like kids,” Katherine said softly. She liked kids, Trey Sutherland seemed in rather desperate need of a nanny, and, if she kept up this insane subterfuge and moved into the Sutherland estate, she’d be here when and if William Lewis turned up.

She’d also be here to watch Trey Sutherland’s amazingly beautiful eyes blaze with intensity and passion. She imagined his eyes lit up that way at least several dozen times a day.

He smiled only very slightly, yet it was enough to soften the somewhat harsh lines of his face. “That’s good to know, Miss…?”

She tucked her hand behind her back, crossed her fingers, and for the first time in her life, acted on complete impulse.

“Wind,” Princess Katherine of Wynborough said in her very best Sean Connery. “Kathy Wind.”

It was funny, but as Trey reached to shake Kathy Wind’s hand, it was almost—at first—as if she were extending her knuckles to be kissed, as if she were the Royal Queen of England.

But although her hand was soft, her nails were short, some of them bitten. Whoever heard of a queen who bit her fingernails?

She had a solid, warm handshake, and although it was absurd to base such things on gut reactions, he liked her even more for it.

“Where are you from?” he asked, releasing her hand.

She had to crane her neck to look up at him, and he sat down on the edge of his desk to put them slightly more on the same level.

She had a very direct way of looking steadily into his eyes, and he liked that about her, too.

“I’m from the country of Wynborough,” she told him in her Mary Poppins accent. “It’s a small island not far from England.”

“So what brings you all the way out here to the American Southwest?”

“I have…family…in Aspen. Colorado,” she added in that earnest way she had, as if he might not know where Aspen was.

Yeah, Trey liked her. And that was a damn good thing, because, as Anita had let him know, Kathy Wind was the only surviving candidate for the position of nanny. The others had either been scared off by the size of the estate, or by the dark rumors that surrounded both this place and its master.

He gazed into Kathy’s wide gray eyes, wondering what she’d heard about him, and wondering, if she had heard something, why it didn’t matter to her. Of course, this interview was only just starting. She still had time to bring the subject up.

“Ever been arrested?” he asked. It was amazing the variety of answers he’d received to that question when interviewing potential child care providers for his two kids.

Kathy laughed, a sudden burst of startled surprise. “I should hope not!”

“I should, too,” Trey said dryly. “But have you?”

She flushed slightly. That was the second time she’d done that. The effect was completely sweet and totally charming. “No!”

“Good. Neither have I,” he told her.

Something nearly imperceptible shifted in her eyes, and he knew that she had heard something about him. But she didn’t take the opportunity to question him about it. She was either too nervous or too polite.

Too polite, he decided. Despite the chewed-on fingernails and an undercurrent of some kind of emotional energy, Kathy Wind wasn’t afraid of him. God, he would sure love it if some of those quiet manners rubbed off on Stacy. His daughter had become completely wild since Helena’s death. And as for Dougie—the kid had completely stopped talking. All Trey wanted was to hear his son’s voice again. At this point, he wouldn’t even care if the boy used it to tell him to go to hell.

“How long have you worked as a nanny?” he asked her, moving behind his desk to shuffle through the meager pile of résumés the agency had sent him. “The agency hasn’t sent me your references.”

“No?” Kathy blinked at him. “Well, I’m…new. But I’ll…have them faxed to you.” She shifted in her seat. “Actually, Mr. Sutherland, I’ve got to be honest. I’m not from the agency. I heard about this position through an, um—” she cleared her throat “—an acquaintance. But I’ll see that you receive a full list of references later today. However…”

Trey watched her closely, aware that something still wasn’t quite kosher—as his college friends at NYU would have said—despite her honest admission.

She drew in a deep breath and steadily met his gaze. “I’m afraid you might find me slightly underqualified for this position. I’ve never actually been a nanny before.” She gave him the sweetest, most crookedly hopeful smile. “But everyone’s got to start somewhere, right?”

She was adorable. She warmed him in a way he couldn’t quite remember being warmed before. It wasn’t that he found her attractive. Not sexually attractive, that is. Sure, she had a great pair of legs, and her figure—at least what he could see beneath that incredibly non-feminine wool suit—was slender and rather well-proportioned and…Okay, so she was attractive. She was outrageously attractive, but in a fresh-faced, sweet little sister sort of way. Not that he’d ever had a little sister. But if he had, this warmth might be what he would feel toward her.

She was quietly pretty with a slightly round face, innocently free of makeup, that made her look closer to fifteen than twenty-five. Her features were even, almost delicate—small, straight nose, slightly pointed chin. Her mouth was full and friendly, but her eyes were what he liked the best—gray and wide with thick dark lashes. She played at being cool and remote, but she couldn’t hide the very appealing mix of intelligence, interest and innocence that lingered there.

And while Trey would have preferred hiring an experienced nanny, everyone did have to start somewhere.

“You’ll need a driver’s license,” he said. “Do you have one?”

“Of course.” Blink, blink. “Why?”

“You’ll be in charge of getting the kids to and from school,” he said. “They both attend a private school about four miles from here. And then there’ll be parties and things they’ll need rides for.” At least, he hoped there would be. Even though Stacy was in eighth grade this year, her social calendar remained rather empty. “And Stace has clarinet lessons several times a week.”

“So basically, you’d be hiring me as a chauffeur,” Kathy noted, one eyebrow elegantly lifted.

“No, believe me, there’s supervision involved,” Trey told her. “A lot of it, actually. You’d put in long days. You’d have the hours off that the kids are in school, but I’d need you available in the evenings. And during school vacations, I’d need you twenty-four/seven.”

She blinked at him again. “Twenty-four…?”

“Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week,” he explained. What rock had she been hiding under, that she hadn’t heard that expression before? “You’d be compensated for the overtime, of course.”

“Of course, but…” Her eyes were innocently wide. “When do you see them?”

“My time’s going to be really tight between now and the New Year,” he said as if that answered her question. He stood up abruptly. “Before we go any further, you need to meet them. Anastacia’s thirteen and Douglas is six. Neither of them are easy to get along with.” He forced a tight smile. “But that shouldn’t be surprising considering who their father is.”

She studied him seriously. “You seem all right to me.”

Yeah, well he wasn’t. “Their mother died three years ago and neither of them have adjusted very well.”

“That doesn’t seem like something any child would adjust to—at least not well.”

That was a good point, but Stacy and Doug’s lack of adjustment sometimes seemed off the map. Of course, Trey was a fine one to talk. He hadn’t adjusted particularly well to Helena’s death, either.

“Stacy’s pretty hostile,” he told Kathy. Understatement of the year. “Her grades are abysmal, she’s actually left home a few times—sometimes in the middle of the night. She hasn’t gotten far, not enough to call it running away, but still it’s…”

“Frightening,” she supplied the word. “I can imagine. You must have been terrified.”

“She needs…something that I don’t seem to be able to give her,” Trey said honestly. “And as for Doug…” He shook his head. His son had chosen a different way to escape the realities of life after his mother’s death. Trey gestured toward the door. “Now would probably be a good time for you to meet them—that is, if you’re still interested in the job.”

Kathy didn’t stand up. Not a good sign. She sighed. “Mr. Sutherland.”

“Trey,” he said. “Please. We don’t stand on ceremony in this house.”

“Trey.” She looked up at him. “Please would you mind sitting down for just a moment? You’re quite relentlessly tall and I’m afraid that what I have to say to you is an eye to eye sort of thing.”

Trey smiled. This woman was a riot. Only she hadn’t intended any of what she’d said to be funny. But since she was probably going to tell him she didn’t want the job, it no longer seemed very funny to him, either. He sat obediently in the chair next to hers, resigned to what she was about to say.

She turned slightly to face him. “As much as I’d love this position—and I truly would—I’m not sure I’m the right woman for the job,” she told him earnestly, her eyes so serious. “You see, I’m not looking for long-term employment, and it seems to me, sir, that you and Stacy and Doug would be best served by hiring a nanny who would be prepared to stay until the children are grown. It seems to me that they—and you—have had enough upheaval in your lives.”

This was too much. She wanted the job, but here she was, trying to talk him out of hiring her—for the sake of his children.

“I suppose it’s too much to hope I could change your mind,” he wondered aloud. “Talk you into staying on for, say, ten years?”

She smiled at that. She had the cutest dimples when she smiled. “Ten years of twenty-four/seven?” She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“Are you sure this isn’t negotiable?” he asked. “We could rethink the twenty-four/seven thing or—”

“I’m flattered that you think so highly of me after only one brief meeting,” Kathy told him. “But, no, sir. It’s not negotiable. I’d like to hope that someday I’ll have a family of my own and…well…”

“Of course,” Trey said, backing down. “I understand. It’s just…I’m kind of in a bind. This isn’t exactly the time of year where people want to change jobs. The agency said I’d have a better selection of candidates in January, but I can’t wait that long. I can barely wait until tomorrow. I need someone starting now.”

She gazed at him thoughtfully. “I could stay until January, provided I’d have a week off for Christmas,” she told him. “It wouldn’t be the best scenario, but…Maybe if the children knew from the start that I’d only be here temporarily…?”

“Maybe what you better do is meet them first,” Trey countered, “before you start making such generous offers.”

Kathy stood up. “Then lead on,” she commanded in that royal manner she had.

“Right this way, Your Majesty,” he said, leading the way to the door.

She faltered. “Excuse me?”

“Bad joke,” he said. “I think it’s probably your accent. Very…regal.”

“Really?” She looked completely taken aback. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—”

“Relax,” Trey told her. “It suits you. It’s very cute.”

Chapter 2

Cute.

Of all the things Princess Katherine of Wynborough had been called in her relatively uneventful life, cute had not been one of them.

Until now.

She followed Trey Sutherland down the stairs, down another endless hallway. If she were going to live here, she’d need to take a few hours and go exploring with a map. As far as she could figure, the house was shaped like a square U, with two long wings stretching back from the main building, forming the shelter for the center courtyard. The tower was on one front corner of the building—at the beginning of the opposite wing than the one they were heading down now.

In fact, if she looked out the window, across the courtyard and up, she could see the windows of Trey’s office, lights still blazing through the late-afternoon dreariness.

Trey slowed his pace and glanced at her. “I meant what I said,” he told her. “Instead of coming to a definite decision after you meet the kids, you go home and think it over. Fax me your references, and tomorrow, if we still both think this will work—temporarily, of course—we’ll talk again.”

He was giving her an out.

“This is the playroom,” he said, taking a deep breath before he opened the door.

Katherine wasn’t sure exactly what horror she’d expected to find, but the cheerful, brightly lit room, filled with books and games and toys, furnished with two big, overstuffed sofas and a small handful of rocking chairs wasn’t it. There was a huge fireplace. It was cold and dark now, but when lit it would be capable of warming nearly the entire large room. Windows and skylights let in what little light remained of the darkening afternoon. A cabinet was open, revealing a TV and VCR. A Disney tape was playing to the otherwise empty room.

Trey strode to the VCR and turned both it and the TV off. He then went to an intercom system that was built into the wall. He leaned on one of the buttons, bent close to the microphone. “Stace. I thought I asked you to stay with Doug in the playroom this afternoon.”

A young girl’s voice came through the speaker, tinny and thin and clearly annoyed. “I was. But then he chewed through his leash….”