A Princess Under The Mistletoe. Leanne Banks

glanced at her. “What?” he asked.

      “Just a thought,” she said. “Maybe after your appointment, you could do something fun.”

      He stood for a moment then nodded. “Good idea,” he said then turned to Sam. “Ice cream or video game afterward?”

      Sam’s eyes lit up. “Can I have both?”

      Gavin chuckled. “Only one,” he said and scooped his son into his arms.

      “Ice cream,” Sam said.

      Gavin sent a sideways glance at Sara. “This could make bedtime more difficult.”

      Sara smiled. “I’m sure Adelaide will be asleep by the time you return, so it will be easier dealing with just one,” she said, hoping that would be true. “If you need to know where to go, there’s a wonderful gelato place downtown on Geneva Street.”

      “Geneva Gelato?” he asked.

      “Yes,” she said. “Have you been there?”

      “No. Just sounded right,” he said. “What flavor is the best?”

      “The hazelnut chocolate is to die for. Best in the world, with the exception of Italy, of course,” she said.

      “You’ve traveled the whole world?” he asked, studying her.

      His scrutiny made her nervous. She resisted biting her lip and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s an expression. Try it and let me know what you think.”

      Sara watched the duo head out the door and turned to Adelaide. “How about a bath and a bottle?” she asked the baby, carrying her toward the kitchen sink. Princess Bridget of the royal Devereaux family had taken Sara under her wing so that Sara could learn some of the finer points of how to care for babies and active boys. Since Bridget had given birth to a baby girl less than a year ago and was the mother of two adopted boys, she was quite informed.

      After cleaning the sink, Sara placed a towel in the bottom of it and filled it partway with warm water. She undressed Adelaide and put her into the bath. She tried to take the washcloth away from the baby, but Adelaide screamed in protest. “All right, all right. You can keep it. Let’s just try not to get soap on it.”

      Sara talked the entire time about nothing in particular. Princess Bridget had told her that talking soothed and reassured infants while bathing. After the bath, she dried off Adelaide and dressed her in clean clothing and negotiated an exchange for a fresh washcloth.

      Rechecking the schedule Gavin had given her, she saw that it was still too early for Adelaide’s bottle and bedtime, so she attempted to read a book. Adelaide fussed and kicked in protest. “Not in the mood for reading,” she muttered and walked around the house.

      The sight of the piano jumped out at her. “Well, why not?” she asked. “The most you can do is howl at my playing.”

      Placing Adelaide in her infant rocker next to the piano, Sara sat down on the bench and looked down at the keyboard. A combination of excitement and relief snapped through her. Playing had been a solace for her for as long as she could remember.

      She played a couple of scales to familiarize herself with the springiness of the keys and the tuning. Gavin had been correct. A few keys were off, but she was so happy to play she didn’t care. “I know Mozart is supposed to be good for kids, but I’m going to play it safe with Bach. I’m sure you’ll let me know your thoughts on Bach’s Goldberg Variations.”

      Sara played and since no screaming commenced, she continued for fifteen minutes. When she stopped and turned to glance at Adelaide, the baby was sitting calmly and seemed to have forgotten the need for her washcloth. Sara smiled and picked up the baby from the carrier. “Good girl. Bach has been soothing the savage beast in all of us for many years. Time for your bottle.”

      Adelaide drank her formula, Sara rocked her for a few minutes, then placed the baby in her crib. She made sure the baby monitor was turned on and walked quietly from the room. Exhaustion hit her and she let out a heavy sigh. She realized this was only the first day of being a nanny, but she hadn’t expected the job to completely sap her energy. What a wimp. It was just eight o’clock and more than anything, she wanted to go to bed.

      Instead, she poured herself a cup of tea and sat on the couch, blinking her eyes so she would stay awake.

      * * *

      Gavin ushered Sam in the door of the cottage. They’d returned much later than he’d intended, but the palace had ordered road construction on a twenty-four-hour basis. Despite the limited population of the Mediterranean island, there’d been a ton of traffic tonight.

      Sam proudly carried the small white bag holding a cup of mostly melted gelato for Sara. He darted toward the den and skidded to a halt. He glanced up at Gavin. “She’s fast asleep,” Sam said in a loud whisper, using the language from some of the books Gavin and his mother had read to him.

      Gavin gazed at the new nanny to his children and felt a shot of sympathy. He could understand her exhaustion. Between Sam’s fear of new people and Adelaide’s general crankiness, he’d wondered if he should ask for two nannies instead of one. He stepped closer to Sara, taking in the sight of her. Faint blue circles shadowed her eyes, but her skin was like ivory porcelain. Her dark eyelashes spread like fans under her closed eyelids and a heavy strand of her dark hair covered one eye. Her pink lips parted slightly, almost as if in invitation.

      Her body was slim, but hinted at the warm curves of a woman. A thud of awareness settled in his gut, startling him. He shook it off. Heaven knew he had no room for those kinds of thoughts. His kids needed him and he needed to get himself centered. Gavin and his late wife had grown apart during the past couple of years. They’d tried to put things back together—that was how Adelaide had happened. But he’d been concerned when Lauren had gotten pregnant again because she’d suffered from postpartum depression after she’d given birth to Sam. Even though he knew Lauren’s death had been an accident, he still couldn’t shake his feeling of guilt. He wasn’t sure he ever would.

      Sam nervously clutched the paper bag between his hands. Sara’s eyes fluttered at the sound and she glanced up at both of them. She winced and straightened. “Oh, no. I fell asleep. What time is it?”

      Gavin glanced at his watch. “Ten after eight,” he said.

      “Oh,” she said, laughing. “Eight-minute nap. Ten at the most. Welcome back. Shall I pour you some tea?” she asked Gavin. “Would you like something to drink, Sam?”

      “I’m not a big tea drinker,” Gavin said. “We’ll both take water. Sam has something for you.”

      Sara looked at Sam and saw the paper bag he held. She smiled and clapped her hands together. “Oh, don’t tell me what it is. Let me guess,” she said. “Is it pizza?”

      Sam shook his head.

      “Is it cheese and crackers?”

      Sam shook his head.

      “Is it a bunny?”

      Sam shook his head and his little mouth lifted in a grin. “Here,” he said, offering the bag to her.

      She opened the bag and pulled out the small cup of gelato and took off the top. She dipped her head and took a swipe with her tongue. “Hazelnut. My favorite. Thank you so much. What kind did you have?”

      “Chocolate and marshmallow,” Sam said.

      “I took your advice and got the hazelnut. You were right. It’s pretty good. You’d probably better eat that quickly. We got caught in road construction, so it’s melted.”

      “Just nice and soft. Let me get your water,” she said as she headed for the kitchen.

      As soon as she left, Sam turned to him. “She’s pretty, but she’s a terrible guesser.”

      Gavin couldn’t shut off his awareness of her presence. It wasn’t