Revelations Of A Secret Princess

‘I see.’ He leaned back again and she tried not to let her gaze drift to those imposing shoulders or that strong jaw. ‘You do get around, don’t you? First in St Ancilla, now in Switzerland.’

Why couldn’t Jake Maynard be easy-going and friendly? Eager to employ a nanny from Ariane’s island homeland in the Mediterranean?

Caro met his gaze with the polite smile she’d perfected as a child. The one her father had approved when she needed to look happy for the press.

She had no intention of admitting she only knew of Jake Maynard’s search for a nanny because she’d been seeking a chance to meet Ariane. Let him think she was in Switzerland for some other reason.

‘Fortunately both air travel and the Internet are available to many of us now, Mr Maynard.’

A hint of a smile turned up the corner of his mouth and for a second Caro saw a glimmer of appreciation in that hard gaze, making it look almost warm. The effect was startling.

She sucked in a slow breath, to her consternation feeling her bra scratch flesh that suddenly felt oversensitive. Deep inside flared a kernel of heat that had nothing to do with nerves. It felt like feminine awareness.

Caro told herself she was imagining things. She was immune to men.

‘You think I should give you the job because you come from the same country as my niece?’

She brushed her sleeve, giving herself a moment’s respite from that searching gaze.

‘I think it’s useful that I speak the language and understand the culture. Such things are comforting, especially at a time of loss.’ She paused. ‘Even if she’s not going to live there, there’s a strong argument for her keeping her native language.’

Slowly he inclined his head, as if reluctant to agree. ‘Frankly that’s the only reason you’re here, Ms Rivage. Because Ariane needs someone who can speak Ancillan as well as English. She’s lost her parents but I don’t want her to lose her heritage too.’

His voice hit a gravel note and something shifted inside her. For the first time since Caro entered this imposing library she felt real sympathy for the man before her. His expression hadn’t altered yet that tiny crack in his voice hinted at deep-buried grief.

He might remind her of a sexy fallen angel with that blatantly raw masculinity and a simmering impatience that bordered on arrogance, but he’d recently lost his sister and brother-in-law. Plus inherited responsibility for his niece.

He probably wasn’t at his best.

‘I have some experience of dealing with loss, Mr Maynard. If you give me the chance I’ll do everything I can to support your niece and help her thrive.’

His eyes held hers and for the first time she sensed he wasn’t quite so negative. Was it wishful thinking?

She didn’t have a chance to find out for there was a tap on the door and it swung open.

‘Sorry to interrupt, Jake, Ms Rivage.’ It was the secretary, Neil Tompkins, who’d escorted her upstairs. ‘There’s a call I really think you need to take. The Geneva consortium.’

Jake Maynard pushed his chair back. ‘My apologies, Ms Rivage. This is bad timing but it’s crucial I take this.’

Even so, Caro gave him credit, he didn’t simply march out, but waited for her response.

‘Of course, Mr Maynard.’

‘I won’t keep you long.’ Then the pair disappeared, the studded oak door closing behind them.

Caro shot to her feet as if from a catapult. Sitting under that icy scrutiny had taken its toll. Leaving her bag beside her chair, she paced the room, drawn to the incredible vista of snowy mountains, so different from her Mediterranean home.

Her mind raced through what he’d said and how she’d responded. What she could have said better. What she could say to sway him on his return.

If the other applicants were so much more experienced it was unlikely he’d entrust his precious niece to her. On the other hand, Ancillan wasn’t a common language. Its origins were ancient, with roots in classical Greek and even, the linguists thought, Phoenician, but influenced over the centuries by trade and conquest so it had traces of Italian, Arabic and even Viking borrowings. If she was the only applicant who could speak it she had a chance.

The door banged open and Caro swung around. But it wasn’t Jake Maynard who entered, nor was it the door to his secretary’s office that stood open. It was a door on the other side of the room.

In front of it, poised as if in mid-flight, was a small, dishevelled figure. Her frilly dress was rumpled and her plaits were half undone so her head was surrounded by a bright bronze nimbus of curls.

Caro’s heart stopped.

She breathed. She must have, for she didn’t black out. But she couldn’t move.

Memory swamped her as the little girl turned a tear-stained face and drowned violet eyes met hers.

Caro felt a trembling begin in the soles of her feet and work its way up her legs to her hands and belly. She swallowed then swallowed again, unable to moisten her suddenly arid mouth.

She’d struggled, hoped and prayed for this moment. But nothing had prepared her for the raw shock of reality.

Those eyes. That hair.

She was thrown back in time to her own childhood. To the only person in the world who’d ever loved her. To gentle hands, tender words and a thick mass of curls of the same distinctive burnished bronze.

‘Where’s Uncle Jake?’

The little girl’s words dragged Caro back to the present. She tried to smile but her mouth trembled too much. Her knees gave way and she sank onto the padded window seat, her hand pressed to her middle as if to still the tumult inside.

‘He’ll be back in a minute.’ Her voice was barely audible, rough with emotion.

The girl’s eyes widened. ‘You speak like me!’

Caro hadn’t realised she’d spoken Ancillan.

Then the girl she’d come all this way to find, the girl she hadn’t known about till a few weeks ago, slowly crossed the room towards her.

Caro went hot then cold as relief, disbelief and wonder hit. She was torn between the urge to grin and the need to sob.

Or to gather Ariane close and never let her go.

CHAPTER TWO

OBLIVIOUS TO HER distress, Ariane stopped before her and held up a teddy bear that looked worn and well loved.

‘Maxim’s arm came off.’ Her bottom lip trembled as she held up the separated limb. ‘Can you fix him?’

It took Caro a moment to follow her words. She was so busy taking in the heart-shaped face, wide eyes and smattering of tiny freckles across that little nose.

Despite all the evidence Caro had told herself it was possible there’d been a mistake. Things like this—long-lost relatives and scandalous secrets—didn’t happen in the real world.

But face to face with Ariane, doubt disintegrated. Those eyes, that hair, even the shy, questioning tilt of the head, were unmistakeable. Was it possible for a child to inherit a gesture, a way of holding themselves, if they’d never spent time with their birth family?

The impossible was real. Real and here before her.

Searing emotion smacked Caro in the chest. She gulped a noisy breath, unable to fill straining lungs. Her eyes filled—her first tears in years.

Instantly the little girl backed away.

That was possibly the only thing that could have helped Caro get a grip, the sight of Ariane retreating.

From somewhere Caro conjured a wobbly smile.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.’ She lifted a hand to her eye, blinking back the unshed tears. ‘I think I had something in my eye. Now, tell me about your bear. He’s called Maxim?’

Ariane nodded but kept her distance.

‘That’s a fine name.’ Caro resisted the urge to move closer. She’d already upset the poor kid with her tears. It would do no good to rush this, though instinct urged her to wrap her arms around the child and hold her tight. ‘Did you know there was once a king called Maxim? He was very brave. He fought off the pirates who tried to invade St Ancilla.’

Ariane took a step nearer. ‘That’s where I come from.’ She tilted her head. ‘Are you from there too?’

‘I am.’ Caro let her smile widen. She’d never allowed herself to imagine having this conversation, as if it might tempt fate into obliterating all her hopes.

This was a bittersweet moment. Sweet because after all the grief and years of emptiness, Caro had found the girl she hadn’t known about. Bitter because of those wasted years.

But there was no time for dwelling on past wrongs. Suddenly Caro had never felt more alive, more brimming with excitement.

‘What happened to Maxim? Was he in a battle with pirates too?’

Ariane smiled and Caro felt it like a dart of sunshine piercing her heart. ‘No, silly. There aren’t really pirates.’

‘Aren’t there?’ Caro stared at the bright face with the dimpling cheeks and felt her insides melt.

Ariane shook her head. ‘No. Uncle Jake said so.’

‘Ah, I see.’

‘So don’t be scared if you dream about them. They’re not real.’

‘That’s good to know. Thank you.’

Did that mean Ariane often had nightmares? Again Caro resisted the impulse to gather her close.

Ariane tilted her head, clearly curious. ‘Who are you? You look...’ her forehead scrunched in concentration ‘...like someone I know.’

Caro’s heart thudded high in her throat. ‘Do I? Who do I look like?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’

Caro drew in a slow breath, reminding herself Ariane was a little girl. She imagined Caro was familiar, possibly because they were from the same place. Maybe speaking Ancillan made her seem familiar. There was no more to it. Anything else was impossible, even if Caro felt the connection between them as a tangible bond.

‘What happened to Maxim if he wasn’t fighting pirates?’

Ariane pouted. ‘I don’t know. I woke up and he was like this.’

Caro eyed the bear, with its fur rubbed off on one side where he’d clearly been cuddled a lot. She’d guess Ariane usually held him by that arm and the stitching had given way after much use.

‘That’s easily fixed.’

‘It is?’

‘Of course. All we need is a needle and thread to sew him back together.’

Ariane stepped closer and held out the brown bear and his separated arm. ‘Can you fix him now? Please?’

Those huge eyes in that grave little face would make any heart melt. As for Caro, it took everything she had to keep things light.

‘I don’t have any thread with me but we can patch him up till we get some.’

‘Patch him?’

‘Yes. If you get my bag from near the desk I’ll see what I can do.’ Because even now her knees felt too wobbly to take her weight.

She watched the girl dart across the room. Obviously Maxim was a much-loved bear. Who’d given it to her? Her parents? Her Uncle Jake?

Caro thought of the self-contained man who’d interrogated her across the desk and tried to imagine him with this precious little girl. She couldn’t conjure the image, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care. He was protective of Ariane.

‘Here.’ She held out Caro’s capacious bag.

‘Thank you.’ Caro barely stopped herself calling the child by her name. ‘My name is Caro. Can you say that?’

‘Caro. That’s easy.’

‘And what’s your name?’

‘Ariane.’

‘What a pretty name.’

‘My daddy said he and Mummy picked it because I was so pretty.’ Those big eyes filled with tears and Ariane’s chin wobbled.

Caro’s excitement shattered, her insides curdling. Ariane had lost her parents. She was grieving.

‘I can see that,’ Caro said slowly as she reached for her bag and began to rummage in it. ‘I know some girls in St Ancilla who are called Ariane. They’re named for a famous lady. She was very pretty, but more importantly she was kind and brave too.’

‘She was?’ Ariane blinked up at her, diverted.

‘Oh, yes. She lived a long time ago before there were good hospitals and medicines. When all the people were very sick from a bad illness the lords and ladies shut themselves away because they were afraid they would get sick too. But Ariane came out of her castle and visited the poor people. She made sure they had food and clean water and helped them get better.’

‘I want to be like her. I want to help.’

‘Well,’ Caro said slowly, withdrawing a scarf from her bag, ‘you can get some practice now, helping Maxim. Here. Can you hold his arm like this?’

Ariane nodded and stood by Caro’s knee, head bent as she concentrated on holding the bear and his arm in just the right way. Caro felt the brush of her soft little hand. A flutter of sensation rippled up Caro’s arm, arrowing to her heart. She tugged in a tremulous breath and focused on fashioning the scarf into a sling.

There’d be time for emotion later, when she was alone. She couldn’t give in to it now. That would be self-indulgent, besides scaring a child who knew her only as a stranger.

But as Caro knotted the scarf, her attention wasn’t on the bear but on Ariane, whose world had been ripped apart. Who needed stability, kindness and above all love.

Caro vowed that, whatever it took, she would be the one to provide that.

Jake stood in the doorway, watching the pair with their heads bent over the teddy bear.

There was nothing especially arresting about the sight. Yet there was something about the woman and the girl together that hit him like a fist to the ribs.

Because it should have been his sister Connie here with Ariane?

Jake released a slow breath from searing lungs.

That went without saying. He’d give everything he had to see Connie here, alive and well. But this skitter of preternatural awareness didn’t spring from loss. Or not loss alone.

What was it about this pair that stopped him in his tracks?

They spoke Ancillan so he didn’t understand their conversation. Yet he’d understood Ariane’s sadness and the way Caro Rivage had directed the conversation, allaying the tears he’d seen brim in his niece’s eyes.

His confidence in this woman as a potential nanny soared. Anyone who could make Ariane smile these days was good in his book. He liked Ms Rivage’s sensitivity, the deft way she’d handled what looked like a fraught moment.

Not that he was ready to give her the job. Her qualifications were laughably light compared with some of the experts who’d worked in the field for decades.

Jake frowned, watching her wind something around the teddy’s arm, murmuring to Ariane.

There was something there he couldn’t put his finger on. Some...similarity between them. His nape prickled as instinct stirred.

It wasn’t their colouring. Ariane’s was vibrant whereas Caro Rivage had dull brown hair and dark brown eyes. Ariane’s face was heart-shaped and Caro Rivage’s was oval. Yet the slanting set of their eyes looked similar and maybe something around the shape of the nose.

He shook his head as his brain cleared. There was no link. It was merely the way they worked together, both intent, both speaking Ancillan. He imagined things.

For some reason his sixth sense had worked overtime ever since Caro Rivage arrived. So much that after the phone call he’d checked her application again at Neil’s desk, looking for anomalies. But there was nothing that didn’t fit. The references and qualifications of all the shortlisted applicants, including Ms Rivage, had already been checked.

His first assessment had been right. She was ordinary, not outstanding.

Jake always chose outstanding. He didn’t have time for ordinary. That was how he’d built his business and his personal fortune, through excellence. Yet he couldn’t stifle the idea that perhaps it wasn’t outstanding Ariane needed but someone ordinary. Someone to help her grope her way back to normalcy after her trauma.

He frowned. That was crazy. He wanted the best for Ariane.

Jake ploughed his fingers through his hair. Maybe he was oversensitive when it came to choosing Ariane’s nanny. This wasn’t like his usual decisions. Then there was nothing at risk but money, albeit lots of it.

Where his niece was concerned, Jake refused to take risks. She’d been through enough. He thought of his sister and brother-in-law’s car, crushed almost to nothing by a massive tree brought down in a storm. It was a miracle Ariane had survived when her parents died.

He owed it to her and Connie to keep her safe.

He stepped into the room. Instantly the woman in brown jerked her head up, those impenetrable eyes locking on his.

What was it about her that made his hackles rise?

Clearly, despite her apparent absorption in the child, she was attuned to his presence. Jake didn’t know whether that was good or suspicious.

Or maybe, the idea surfaced again as their eyes held and his chest expanded on a deep breath, it wasn’t suspicion tugging at him. Could it be attraction?

Jake dismissed the idea. Caro Rivage might have fine features and a certain understated elegance, and poise...definitely poise. But Jake preferred more in his women. Eye-catching beauty and scintillating personalities for starters. Jake didn’t date dull sparrows.

Nor did he mix work and pleasure. No dating the staff.

He stopped before them, jaw firming. She wasn’t staff. Not yet. Probably never.

‘What happened to Maxim? Is he okay?’

Ariane looked up and he caught a fleeting smile. His niece was pleased to see him, even if not pleased enough to hug him. He stifled a pang of regret.

He couldn’t blame her. He was still almost a stranger. His trips to St Ancilla hadn’t been frequent and though he’d stayed with Connie and her family, he’d usually worked during the day when Ariane was awake.

‘His arm came off. But Caro can fix him. We need...’ She turned to the woman.

‘Thread. Wool to sew his arm on.’

Ariane nodded. ‘Wool. Do you have wool, Uncle Jake? Please? Then we can make him better.’ Pleading eyes turned to him and Jake felt that familiar stab of discomfort.

It was crazy that he should be responsible for this needy child. What she required was someone who knew how to care for her. Someone who could fill the gaps he, with his lack of experience, couldn’t.

‘I’m sure we can rustle some up.’ He hunkered near his niece, enjoying the way she smiled back, clearly delighted with his news.

What he hadn’t counted on was discovering the surprisingly rich scent of the woman holding Ariane’s teddy bear. Jake’s nostrils flared as a hint of her warm, spicy fragrance reached him. It was the perfume of a sensual woman, not heavy but far more intriguing than the predictable floral scent he’d have expected of a prim sparrow. He inhaled deeply then wished he hadn’t as his sense receptors shuddered into awareness.

Jake shot a look at her under lowered brows but she avoided his gaze.

Because she felt that jag of awareness too?

Grimly he yanked his brain back to order. There was no awareness.

‘I’ll call Lotte and we’ll see if she has any wool, shall we?’ The ever-efficient housekeeper would have some, or be able to acquire it.

‘And a needle please, preferably a large one.’

Up close Caro Rivage’s husky voice sounded surprisingly sensual. Was she trying to entice him into giving her the job? She was in for a rude awakening if she thought he’d be swayed by a sexy voice.

Yet once more when he looked she was all but ignoring him. Instead she smiled at Ariane as she put the teddy into the little girl’s arms.

Jake stared, amazed at how that smile turned this passably pleasant-looking woman into someone almost...stunning. The joy in her expression could be bottled and sold as a tonic.

As if sensing his stare, she darted a glance at him then away, fussing over the sling she’d arranged.

‘Please, Uncle Jake. Can you ask now?’

‘Of course.’ He got up and called Lotte on the house phone. The interview had been derailed by Ariane and her damaged bear. But perhaps that was a good thing. Despite requiring the best qualified person, he also had to find someone caring. Someone Ariane could relate to.

As he watched the two females together it seemed as if he’d found just that. Or, he amended, someone who could put on a good initial show but who might not have the depth of experience Ariane needed. The thought loosened the ribbon of tension tightening around his gut.

He didn’t want to give Caro Rivage the job.

Yet there was no denying Ariane liked her. He owed it to his niece to give the woman a chance, despite his doubts. Without a solid reason to reject her she deserved that much.

Ariane spoke again.

‘Can you speak English, Ariane?’ that throaty voice asked. ‘I don’t think your uncle understands Ancillan and it’s not nice to exclude him.’

Spoken like a true governess. As if he cared. He was just glad to hear Ariane sound so animated after weeks of being withdrawn and teary.

‘Exclude?’

‘It means to shut someone out so they feel all alone. It’s not a friendly thing to do. You don’t want to hurt your uncle’s feelings, do you?’

Ariane shook her head yet she looked unhappy. ‘But I like talking with you. It’s like being home, talking with my...’ Her mouth clamped shut and her little chin wobbled and Jake wanted to tell her he didn’t give a damn what language she spoke. He hated it when she withdrew into that grief-stricken bubble where he had trouble reaching her.

He opened his mouth but Caro Rivage spoke first. ‘Of course you want to speak Ancillan. I’m sure you’ll soon be able to do that a lot.’

‘With you?’

Jake’s heart cramped as he looked into that woebegone little face.

‘We’ll have to see, won’t we?’ Full marks to Ms Rivage for not playing on Ariane’s desperation to make promises she couldn’t keep. She turned to the opening door. ‘Now, is this Lotte?’

Jake crossed his arms and leaned against the desk to watch proceedings. As expected, Lotte had wool in several colours, plus needles and scissors. The housekeeper reached for Maxim, offering to sew him better, but she was forestalled by Ariane, who insisted Caro do it.

He saw the women’s gazes meet, assessing and something more. Caro asked permission to use Lotte’s supplies, then sought a second opinion on the choice of colour and needle size. By the time the two had discussed possible stitches and the need to reinforce Maxim’s other arm, the women were firm allies.

Silently Jake applauded Caro Rivage. She knew she trod on the housekeeper’s territory and had adroitly co-opted her as an ally rather than a rival. Lotte fretted over Ariane like a broody hen with a single chick yet now she smiled and nodded, praising the newcomer’s stitching and telling Ariane that Maxim would be as good as new.

Caro Rivage was a smooth operator, able to read people’s sensitivities.

Was that what she tried to do with him? Were those downcast eyes a ploy to make her seem the ideal nanny?

But she’d met his gaze steadily when she had to. He sensed she really was nervous, despite her show of calm. Clearly she wanted this job badly.

Was she broke? Her clothes looked new if unremarkable. Maybe she wanted the kudos of working for him. A stint in his employ would open any door to her.

The idea eased his tension. Why shouldn’t she want the job? This vague sense of something askew dissipated. The woman checked out. She had no criminal record and her references were good.

‘Maxim looks as good as new,’ he murmured when she cut the thread and handed the bear to a grinning Ariane.

‘Thank you, Caro!’

Jake thought Ariane might even hug the newcomer, but instead she cuddled the toy while Lotte looked on, beaming from ear to ear.

Jake cleared his throat. ‘Perhaps, Lotte, you could take Ariane for a snack while Ms Rivage and I conclude our business?’

It took some doing as Ariane didn’t want to leave but finally they were alone. He watched Caro get to her feet. Her hands twisted together before she seemed to collect herself and let them fall to her sides. Her eyes met his and once more he felt the curious blankness of that dark-eyed stare. It struck him that when she was in control of herself she gave little away.