They went straight to the nursery wing’s dining room, drawn by an unholy racket. It was full of people, all talking at once. Lysander introduced Alyssa, then stood back. The crowd fell silent. The staff, like him, were watching to see what Alyssa would do when confronted with five-year-old Ra’id. The child was holding court at the head of his dining table and scowling like a little old man. When Lysander saw the peculiar collection of food on the table, he frowned, too. None of it looked edible—especially the sardines in chocolate sauce and the cupcakes spread with Marmite. He watched Alyssa sum up the situation. Then he leaned in to enjoy the fragrant sensation of whispering into her small, perfectly formed ear.
‘Meet the poor little orphaned mite you’re going to rescue from his wicked, uncaring uncle.’
He expected her to apologise for her starchy attitude towards him, but she didn’t. Instead she hissed, ‘He seems to have recovered from the tragedy well enough to have your staff on the run!’
‘That’s because he was about as close to his parents as I was to mine,’ Lysander flashed back.
She gave him a strange look, then pinned on a smile before speaking out loud to the infant dictator.
‘Good afternoon, Prince Ra’id. It doesn’t look as though traditional Rosarian food meets with your approval, so we’ll get rid of it, and all these people.’
‘But he hasn’t had any food yet!’ A shocked voice burst out from the crowd. ‘And it isn’t traditional—we’ve brought him everything he asked for, but nothing’s been good enough yet.’
‘That’s a shame,’ Alyssa said evenly. ‘But lunchtime should have been over a long time ago.’
‘I’m hungry!’ Ra’id said through clenched teeth.
The huddle of servants held its breath. Lysander carried on lazily watching Alyssa. She took no notice of her little charge. Instead, she started piling up plates with quick, neat movements. After an exchange of glances, the rest of the staff stepped forward to help her. In minutes the table was clear and the room empty apart from Lysander, Alyssa and the little boy.
‘I’m hungry!’ Ra’id repeated, this time with more of a whine.
‘No, you aren’t. If you’d been hungry, you would have eaten the first thing you were served. You’re not to treat your staff like that, Prince Ra’id. They spent a lot of time satisfying your demands, so the least you could have done was try something. As your uncle Lysander has just told you, I’m in charge now. From today, you’ll eat at regular times. Whatever arrives is what you’ll eat, and that’s an end to it. There will be no alternatives.’ She glanced at her watch, then looked at Lysander. ‘Do you eat high tea at Combe House?’
‘For you, Alyssa, anything is possible.’ He chuckled.
‘Then could you order a simple meal of egg on toast for His Majesty, to be served in your dining room in half an hour?’
‘I don’t like egg. What is it?’ the little boy piped up.
‘It’s what you’re having for tea,’ Alyssa said with a determination Lysander wished he could see more often.
Ra’id wasn’t so impressed. ‘No! And I can do what I like, because I’m King.’
Lysander had consoled enough nursery maids to know that was the killer line. It always worked. He glanced at Alyssa with a grin that said I’d like to see you get out of that!
Alyssa didn’t need to answer him. She knelt down beside Ra’id and folded her arms on the ruined surface of his miniature Georgian dining table so that her face was very close to his.
‘Oho—not yet, you aren’t! Listen to me, young man. Your uncle Lysander is going to be in charge of you, and everything else around you, for at least the next four thousand days, so what he says, goes. That’s a long time, so get used to it. And he says you’ll eat the lovely food the staff are kind enough to make for you. If you don’t, you’ll go hungry.’ She looked up at Lysander with battle blazing in her eyes. ‘Right?’
Wide-eyed and speechless, the little boy switched his gaze from Alyssa to Lysander, searching for support.
‘That’s right, isn’t it, Lysander?’ Alyssa repeated, more forcefully this time.
Lysander knew she wanted him to back her up, but he took his time. He was busy with his own thoughts, enjoying the arousal that pulsed through his body as he watched this determined and beautiful woman in action. The sensation was far more enjoyable than talking to her about nursery routine. Miss Alyssa Dene had the sort of nerve he had never encountered before. He already knew she wasn’t going to roll over and submit to him like so many women that had filled his universe until now. He would have to break down her resistance to him inch by inch. It was an idea he found intensely exciting. It would make the moment she finally fell under his spell a real triumph, and a conquest worthy of his maverick skills. He allowed a slow, seductive smile to warm his face. Her need for him was so deeply buried she might not recognise it yet, but she would. Given time. He would make sure of it.
‘Right …’ He teased the word out slowly. ‘So from now on, Ra’id, you’ll do everything Alyssa tells you, OK?’
His answer satisfied her, although she laid down the law to Ra’id for a long time after that. While she rattled on, Lysander lost himself again in more luscious thoughts involving silk sheets, perfumed massage oil and Miss Alyssa Dene’s soft curves. He only realised he should have been listening to her instead when she coughed politely to attract his attention.
‘So, Lysander, Ra’id and I will see you in your dining room in half an hour.’
‘Of course,’ Lysander said suavely, still wondering if she knew what she was letting herself in for. He sent another leisurely glance over her body. The tempting reality of her promised to be even better than his fantasy.
‘Miss Alyssa Dene is the best nanny in the business, Ra’id,’ he told his nephew. ‘And I’m looking forward to discovering what other talents she has, very soon.’ He smiled, tilting his head towards her in a way that never failed to soften women. She stared at him, her cool blue eyes as assured as his own technique.
‘It’s a pity smiling doesn’t seem to be one of them,’ he went on, standing back to give her room to melt over his teasing. It had no effect.
‘Childcare isn’t a laughing matter, Lysander.’
Her wide-set eyes would have been beautiful if they hadn’t been focusing a stare on him that was as hard as sapphires.
The last few weeks had stretched Lysander’s patience so thin, it was practically transparent. He heard himself snap, like an elastic band that had been stretched too far.
‘Then that’s a shame. You’ll need a sense of humour if you’re going to work here.’
He regretted it instantly. Unleashing his bitterness wasn’t the way to win over rebellious women. Stepping in close to her again, he softened his retort by patting her gently on the back. ‘If only to put up with my short temper. So if you wouldn’t mind giving me a few moments of your time outside so we can discuss it, Nanny—?’
His hand slid sensuously over her ribcage on its way to become a support under her elbow.
‘My name is Alyssa!’
She jerked away from him so savagely, Ra’id gave a little cry of alarm. Instantly, she swooped down to comfort the little boy. Any angry remarks Lysander might have made at her overreaction died on his lips when he saw the way she reassured his nephew—that, and the way her shirt gaped a little as she bent forward. It gave him an illicit glimpse of her lacy bra as it cupped the creamy swell of her breasts. The view was so delicious, he forgave her everything.
It made him look forward to seeing a whole lot more of her, very soon.
Alyssa used a combination of psychology and her own novelty value to make