Undercover Princess. Suzanne Brockmann

times a week.”

      “So basically, you’d be hiring me as a chauffeur,” Kathy noted, one eyebrow elegantly lifted.

      “No, believe me, there’s supervision involved,” Trey told her. “A lot of it, actually. You’d put in long days. You’d have the hours off that the kids are in school, but I’d need you available in the evenings. And during school vacations, I’d need you twenty-four/seven.”

      She blinked at him again. “Twenty-four…?”

      “Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week,” he explained. What rock had she been hiding under, that she hadn’t heard that expression before? “You’d be compensated for the overtime, of course.”

      “Of course, but…” Her eyes were innocently wide. “When do you see them?”

      “My time’s going to be really tight between now and the New Year,” he said as if that answered her question. He stood up abruptly. “Before we go any further, you need to meet them. Anastacia’s thirteen and Douglas is six. Neither of them are easy to get along with.” He forced a tight smile. “But that shouldn’t be surprising considering who their father is.”

      She studied him seriously. “You seem all right to me.”

      Yeah, well he wasn’t. “Their mother died three years ago and neither of them have adjusted very well.”

      “That doesn’t seem like something any child would adjust to—at least not well.”

      That was a good point, but Stacy and Doug’s lack of adjustment sometimes seemed off the map. Of course, Trey was a fine one to talk. He hadn’t adjusted particularly well to Helena’s death, either.

      “Stacy’s pretty hostile,” he told Kathy. Understatement of the year. “Her grades are abysmal, she’s actually left home a few times—sometimes in the middle of the night. She hasn’t gotten far, not enough to call it running away, but still it’s…”

      “Frightening,” she supplied the word. “I can imagine. You must have been terrified.”

      “She needs…something that I don’t seem to be able to give her,” Trey said honestly. “And as for Doug…” He shook his head. His son had chosen a different way to escape the realities of life after his mother’s death. Trey gestured toward the door. “Now would probably be a good time for you to meet them—that is, if you’re still interested in the job.”

      Kathy didn’t stand up. Not a good sign. She sighed. “Mr. Sutherland.”

      “Trey,” he said. “Please. We don’t stand on ceremony in this house.”

      “Trey.” She looked up at him. “Please would you mind sitting down for just a moment? You’re quite relentlessly tall and I’m afraid that what I have to say to you is an eye to eye sort of thing.”

      Trey smiled. This woman was a riot. Only she hadn’t intended any of what she’d said to be funny. But since she was probably going to tell him she didn’t want the job, it no longer seemed very funny to him, either. He sat obediently in the chair next to hers, resigned to what she was about to say.

      She turned slightly to face him. “As much as I’d love this position—and I truly would—I’m not sure I’m the right woman for the job,” she told him earnestly, her eyes so serious. “You see, I’m not looking for long-term employment, and it seems to me, sir, that you and Stacy and Doug would be best served by hiring a nanny who would be prepared to stay until the children are grown. It seems to me that they—and you—have had enough upheaval in your lives.”

      This was too much. She wanted the job, but here she was, trying to talk him out of hiring her—for the sake of his children.

      “I suppose it’s too much to hope I could change your mind,” he wondered aloud. “Talk you into staying on for, say, ten years?”

      She smiled at that. She had the cutest dimples when she smiled. “Ten years of twenty-four/seven?” She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

      “Are you sure this isn’t negotiable?” he asked. “We could rethink the twenty-four/seven thing or—”

      “I’m flattered that you think so highly of me after only one brief meeting,” Kathy told him. “But, no, sir. It’s not negotiable. I’d like to hope that someday I’ll have a family of my own and…well…”

      “Of course,” Trey said, backing down. “I understand. It’s just…I’m kind of in a bind. This isn’t exactly the time of year where people want to change jobs. The agency said I’d have a better selection of candidates in January, but I can’t wait that long. I can barely wait until tomorrow. I need someone starting now.”

      She gazed at him thoughtfully. “I could stay until January, provided I’d have a week off for Christmas,” she told him. “It wouldn’t be the best scenario, but…Maybe if the children knew from the start that I’d only be here temporarily…?”

      “Maybe what you better do is meet them first,” Trey countered, “before you start making such generous offers.”

      Kathy stood up. “Then lead on,” she commanded in that royal manner she had.

      “Right this way, Your Majesty,” he said, leading the way to the door.

      She faltered. “Excuse me?”

      “Bad joke,” he said. “I think it’s probably your accent. Very…regal.”

      “Really?” She looked completely taken aback. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—”

      “Relax,” Trey told her. “It suits you. It’s very cute.”

      Chapter 2

      Cute.

      Of all the things Princess Katherine of Wynborough had been called in her relatively uneventful life, cute had not been one of them.

      Until now.

      She followed Trey Sutherland down the stairs, down another endless hallway. If she were going to live here, she’d need to take a few hours and go exploring with a map. As far as she could figure, the house was shaped like a square U, with two long wings stretching back from the main building, forming the shelter for the center courtyard. The tower was on one front corner of the building—at the beginning of the opposite wing than the one they were heading down now.

      In fact, if she looked out the window, across the courtyard and up, she could see the windows of Trey’s office, lights still blazing through the late-afternoon dreariness.

      Trey slowed his pace and glanced at her. “I meant what I said,” he told her. “Instead of coming to a definite decision after you meet the kids, you go home and think it over. Fax me your references, and tomorrow, if we still both think this will work—temporarily, of course—we’ll talk again.”

      He was giving her an out.

      “This is the playroom,” he said, taking a deep breath before he opened the door.

      Katherine wasn’t sure exactly what horror she’d expected to find, but the cheerful, brightly lit room, filled with books and games and toys, furnished with two big, overstuffed sofas and a small handful of rocking chairs wasn’t it. There was a huge fireplace. It was cold and dark now, but when lit it would be capable of warming nearly the entire large room. Windows and skylights let in what little light remained of the darkening afternoon. A cabinet was open, revealing a TV and VCR. A Disney tape was playing to the otherwise empty room.

      Trey strode to the VCR and turned both it and the TV off. He then went to an intercom system that was built into the wall. He leaned on one of the buttons, bent close to the microphone. “Stace. I thought I asked you to stay with Doug in the playroom this afternoon.”

      A young girl’s voice came through the speaker, tinny and thin and clearly annoyed. “I was. But then