The Prince's Nanny by Carol Grace Page B

appropriate subject came to mind, one that was apropos to her job as a nanny and his job as a father.
    “About that snake,” he said suddenly as he approached her chair.  “What happened to it?”
    She was so startled she dropped the book she was reading, took her sunglasses off and looked up at him, her eyes wide, her lips – pink and ripe and tantalizingly kissable - parted.

Chapter Six
    The sight of her employer at the pool where she least expected him still wearing a swimming suit so surprised Sabrina that she sat up abruptly and the book she was reading slid off her lap.
    “The snake was given its freedom to chase mice and other rodents,” she blurted trying not to stare at his broad shoulders, his bare chest sprinkled with dark hair and his muscular legs.
    “Good,” he said.  Then he picked up her book and handed it to her, his hand brushing hers and causing a frisson of awareness to travel up her arm.  “The Guide to the International Academia of Florence,” he said after a glance at the title.  She was glad he’d changed the subject.  She had no more to say about snakes.  She could think of nothing coherent to say on any subject, not with him standing there, looming over her, half naked.  She gripped the book tightly to keep her hands from shaking.  A sudden chill had caused goosebumps to run up and down her arms despite the warm afternoon sun.
    She shaded her eyes with one hand.  It wasn’t so much to block the sun, but to block the view of the man who stood over her, formidable and charismatic, bigger and sexier than any man had a right to be.  And completely at home, dressed for an afternoon around the pool.  Even though she’d been lead to believe he never took time off, never relaxed, never used his pool.
    “I thought I could get some research done here at the pool, maybe I was wrong…” she trailed off.  Reading anything with him there was impossible.“It must be the atmosphere, the smell of the rain-washed flowers, the pool…Did Nanny Chisholm do much swimming and sunning?” she asked.
    “I rather doubt it, but you are nothing like our Scottish nanny.  Remind me to show you a photograph of her.  Why shouldn’t you use the pool for research or just relaxation?  You deserve it after what you did this morning,” he said.
    She took a sip of the delicious fresh juice to help her find her voice and recover from the shock of seeing her employer here at his own pool when she imagined he’d be inside working.  “I found the book in their room. It will help me prepare the children for their interview next week.”
    “What is your opinion?” he asked, taking a seat in the chaise next to hers as if their meeting at the pool was nothing out of the ordinary.  Did he know she’d be there?  Did he hope to be alone?  She might never know.
    “Of the school?”  Happy to have something to do besides stare at him, she leafed through the booklet and opened it to a picture of the campus and read the text aloud.  “’Housed in an ancient palace with frescoes and vaulted ceilings, the Academia offers young women every opportunity for learning, both inside and outside the classroom.’”  I must say it’s very impressive.  They seem to do an excellent job preparing girls for a life of service.There’s an long list of alumnae, women from many countries who are artists, politicians, and business leaders.”
    “I have a hard time picturing my daughters on that list,” he said soberly.
    “Give them a chance.  They’re only seven.  Which as you know, I think is too soon to go away to school.  My step-mother wanted to send me away to school when I was young, but my father intervened.  Later I wanted to go when I was at a public school with my step-sisters who teased me unmercifully.  I longed to get away from them and leave home, but that was not to be, not until I finished college and nanny school.”
    She paused and self consciously pulled a colorful beach towel around her