The Prince's Nanny by Carol Grace

Vittorio got out and the mood was broken.  The fresh air was like a slap in the face.  A dose of reality.  He opened her door, thanked her again and went to his office.  As if nothing had happened.  For him, it hadn’t.  She felt like she’d hit a bump on a smooth highway and smashed her head on the roof of the car.  Just what she needed.
    He didn’t ask what she would do next or make any suggestions.  Why should he?  A nanny is never at a loss for something to do.  She ran up the stairs in search of some job to do, something to take her mind off Vittorio.
    In the twins’ fairy tale room she found the catalog from the Academy in Florence.  Every thing was in perfect order there.  After all, they had a  the staff to maintain such perfection.  No need for those girls to pick up a single item from the floor when someone else was paid to do it for them.
    Then she went to her suite to gather up the books she’d brought along to use for the girls’ instruction.  Everything was in perfect order there too, her clothes had been pressed, her bathroom full of clean towels and a selection of lotions and soaps.  How would she ever adapt to real life after this kind of luxury?  After changing into one-piece maillot, she wrapped herself in the robe hanging in the bathroom and headed for the pool.  As far as she knew no one was using it and she’d be alone.  A perfect place to enjoy the ambience, the sun and get some work done.  The kind of work she was trained and hired to do.  Preparing children for life in the big world, whether it was prep school or a prestigious academy.
    As soon as she’d taken off her robe and seated herself in a deck chair under a large umbrella, a maid appeared to ask what she would like to drink.
    “Some juice would be nice,” she said and thumbed through her pocket dictionary.  “ Spremuta dell’arancia sanguigna .”
    The maid beamed her approval at Sabrina’s attempt at Italian and quickly brought her a fresh cold drink.  Sabrina cautioned herself not to become accustomed to being waited on or to lunching with her employer.  And most of all not to get carried away by a friendly gesture.  None of these things would likely happen again.
    In the house, Vittorio stood at the window of his office looking out toward the pool without really seeing the trees or the crystal-clear water.  He had work to do.  He didn’t need any distractions, but for once his well-trained and disciplined mind wouldn’t cooperate.  All he could think about was Sabrina.  It was impossible to concentrate on the upcoming merger after a day like this . He couldn’t remember relaxing and enjoying the company of a woman so much.  It was almost as if…  No, that couldn’t be.
     The face and voice of Aurora had somehow faded away.  When he thought of her he wondered how he could consider marrying her when he felt absolutely nothing.  Not that he’d expected to find passion or excitement again.  He didn’t want to.  He wanted to avoid being swept away.  The last time had been so gut-wrenchingly painful when it ended.
      He blinked and there she was.  His nanny was walking slowly toward the pool.  She took off her robe and appeared in a swim suit that was modest by Italian standards, but still showed her uplifted breasts, her long legs and her hips to full advantage.  He pressed his face against the window but she had taken a seat in a chaise lounge and was out of sight.  He was irrationally, undeniably, crashingly disappointed.
    He told himself to go back to his desk.  What was wrong with him?  He shouldn’t have held her hand.  It only made him want to do more than that.  He’d driven around the lake a few times just to prolong the ride back from the restaurant, but eventually it had to end.  But he hadn’t wanted it to.  He’d wanted to continue their conversation, to find out more about her.  He told himself to forget it. It would be wrong to even consider more intimate