Page 20 of Revelations of A Secret Princess

Yet she didn’t want to be a nanny. She was Ariane’smother.

No wonder she hadn’t slept. She’d tossed all night, imagining one scenario after another where Ariane’s uncle stopped her claiming her daughter.

Zoe was right. He was her uncle despite being no blood relation. Before Caro met him she’d wondered if he might be relieved to be rid of responsibility for his orphaned niece. That hope had died as she’d seen his protectiveness for Ariane.

Thinking about Jake Maynard disturbed her. He made her...unsettled.

Caro told herself it was because he had a claim to her daughter. His sharp eyes had softened when he watched Ariane. Clearly he was determined to do his best for her.

He’d never tamely give her up, even to her rightful mother.

That explained Caro’s edginess. Because they were destined to be rivals, if not enemies.

It had nothing to do with the fact that he made her feel, for the first time in ages, aware of her femininity.

She couldn’t be so self-destructive as to be attracted to the man who stood squarely between her and her daughter.

Caro stepped into the office, masking her nervously roiling stomach with a façade of calm. She was grateful for her father’s insistence that she learn to conceal her feelings behind a show of well-bred calm. Being in the same building as her child for the first time in four and a half years tested her to the limit.

‘Take a seat, Ms Rivage.’

Instead she stopped beside the desk. How could she sit while Jake Maynard paced the room?

He was even more intimidating than he’d been yesterday in his tailored business clothes. Those black jeans revealed muscled thighs and, when he moved away, a taut, rounded backside that turned her throat to sandpaper. His fine-knit pullover was a shade darker than his eyes and clung to broad shoulders and a flat belly. Even the way he’d pushed the sleeves up to reveal strong forearms dusted with dark hair did strange things to her insides.

He was potently masculine and far too disturbing.

And last night he’d called her Caro.

The knowledge beat in her bloodstream, slowing her pulse, making it ponderous with unexpected need.

For one crazy second she’d thought he might reach out to her as she grappled with yesterday’s emotional onslaught. She’d been disappointed when he didn’t.

When she’d thought of finding her daughter, she’d imagined Ariane’s uncle as kind and ordinary. Not sucking up all the oxygen in the room. His presence shouldn’t be electric, demanding, stifling the breath in her lungs.

How woefully underprepared she’d been.

He turned and surveyed her over his desk. No sympathy in his eyes now.

Not that it was sympathy she wanted.

She hurried into speech. ‘I’d prefer to stand, thanks.’

One slashing eyebrow rose. ‘You look like you’re facing a firing squad.’

She inhaled roughly, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. How did he read her so easily?

He was right. After the way he’d quizzed her in Ariane’s room last night, she knew he was suspicious of her. All through breakfast she’d been conscious of his piercing stare trained on her.

Did he hope to discomfit her? On the thought she pushed her shoulders back. He might be tough and used to taking charge but as an adversary he had nothing on her father. Jake Maynard was a hard man but he seemed to play by honest rules, unlike her devious, despised dad.

‘I’m expecting to hear your decision. And after sitting for the last hour with Ariane I’m comfortable standing.’

‘As you wish.’ He surveyed her in a leisurely way that made her skin itch. He might have all the time in the world but she needed an answer.

He must know she was on tenterhooks. Was this some extra test to pass? Despite her joy at being in the same building as Ariane, Caro felt as if she’d been scraped too thin by the emotional overload. She hadn’t slept and her mind spun relentlessly like a mouse on a wheel, trying to work out the best way to deal with this fraught, complicated situation. She didn’t have answers, just the certainty that whatever she did Jake Maynard wouldn’t be happy.

‘You still want to work for me?’

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