Revelations of a Secret Princess Read online

  That went without saying. He’d give everything he had to see Connie here, alive and well. But this skitter of preternatural awareness didn’t spring from loss. Or not loss alone.

  What was it about this pair that stopped him in his tracks?

  They spoke Ancillan so he didn’t understand their conversation. Yet he’d understood Ariane’s sadness and the way Caro Rivage had directed the conversation, allaying the tears he’d seen brim in his niece’s eyes.

  His confidence in this woman as a potential nanny soared. Anyone who could make Ariane smile these days was good in his book. He liked Ms Rivage’s sensitivity, the deft way she’d handled what looked like a fraught moment.

  Not that he was ready to give her the job. Her qualifications were laughably light compared with some of the experts who’d worked in the field for decades.

  Jake frowned, watching her wind something around the teddy’s arm, murmuring to Ariane.

  There was something there he couldn’t put his finger on. Some...similarity between them. His nape prickled as instinct stirred.

  It wasn’t their colouring. Ariane’s was vibrant whereas Caro Rivage had dull brown hair and dark brown eyes. Ariane’s face was heart-shaped and Caro Rivage’s was oval. Yet the slanting set of their eyes looked similar and maybe something around the shape of the nose.

  He shook his head as his brain cleared. There was no link. It was merely the way they worked together, both intent, both speaking Ancillan. He imagined things.

  For some reason his sixth sense had worked overtime ever since Caro Rivage arrived. So much that after the phone call he’d checked her application again at Neil’s desk, looking for anomalies. But there was nothing that didn’t fit. The references and qualifications of all the shortlisted applicants, including Ms Rivage, had already been checked.

  His first assessment had been right. She was ordinary, not outstanding.

  Jake always chose outstanding. He didn’t have time for ordinary. That was how he’d built his business and his personal fortune, through excellence. Yet he couldn’t stifle the idea that perhaps it wasn’t outstanding Ariane needed but someone ordinary. Someone to help her grope her way back to normalcy after her trauma.

  He frowned. That was crazy. He wanted the best for Ariane.

  Jake ploughed his fingers through his hair. Maybe he was oversensitive when it came to choosing Ariane’s nanny. This wasn’t like his usual decisions. Then there was nothing at risk but money, albeit lots of it.

  Where his niece was concerned, Jake refused to take risks. She’d been through enough. He thought of his sister and brother-in-law’s car, crushed almost to nothing by a massive tree brought down in a storm. It was a miracle Ariane had survived when her parents died.

  He owed it to her and Connie to keep her safe.

  He stepped into the room. Instantly the woman in brown jerked her head up, those impenetrable eyes locking on his.

  What was it about her that made his hackles rise?

  Clearly, despite her apparent absorption in the child, she was attuned to his presence. Jake didn’t know whether that was good or suspicious.

  Or maybe, the idea surfaced again as their eyes held and his chest expanded on a deep breath, it wasn’t suspicion tugging at him. Could it be attraction?

  Jake dismissed the idea. Caro Rivage might have fine features and a certain understated elegance, and poise...definitely poise. But Jake preferred more in his women. Eye-catching beauty and scintillating personalities for starters. Jake didn’t date dull sparrows.

  Nor did he mix work and pleasure. No dating the staff.

  He stopped before them, jaw firming. She wasn’t staff. Not yet. Probably never.

  ‘What happened to Maxim? Is he okay?’

  Ariane looked up and he caught a fleeting smile. His niece was pleased to see him, even if not pleased enough to hug him. He stifled a pang of regret.

  He couldn’t blame her. He was still almost a stranger. His trips to St Ancilla hadn’t been frequent and though he’d stayed with Connie and her family, he’d usually worked during the day when Ariane was awake.

  ‘His arm came off. But Caro can fix him. We need...’ She turned to the woman.

  ‘Thread. Wool to sew his arm on.’

  Ariane nodded. ‘Wool. Do you have wool, Uncle Jake? Please? Then we can make him better.’ Pleading eyes turned to him and Jake felt that familiar stab of discomfort.

  It was crazy that he should be responsible for this needy child. What she required was someone who knew how to care for her. Someone who could fill the gaps he, with his lack of experience, couldn’t.

  ‘I’m sure we can rustle some up.’ He hunkered near his niece, enjoying the way she smiled back, clearly delighted with his news.

  What he hadn’t counted on was discovering the surprisingly rich scent of the woman holding Ariane’s teddy bear. Jake’s nostrils flared as a hint of her warm, spicy fragrance reached him. It was the perfume of a sensual woman, not heavy but far more intriguing than the predictable floral scent he’d have expected of a prim sparrow. He inhaled deeply then wished he hadn’t as his sense receptors shuddered into awareness.

  Jake shot a look at her under lowered brows but she avoided his gaze.

  Because she felt that jag of awareness too?

  Grimly he yanked his brain back to order. There was no awareness.

  ‘I’ll call Lotte and we’ll see if she has any wool, shall we?’ The ever-efficient housekeeper would have some, or be able to acquire it.

  ‘And a needle please, preferably a large one.’

  Up close Caro Rivage’s husky voice sounded surprisingly sensual. Was she trying to entice him into giving her the job? She was in for a rude awakening if she thought he’d be swayed by a sexy voice.

  Yet once more when he looked she was all but ignoring him. Instead she smiled at Ariane as she put the teddy into the little girl’s arms.

  Jake stared, amazed at how that smile turned this passably pleasant-looking woman into someone almost...stunning. The joy in her expression could be bottled and sold as a tonic.

  As if sensing his stare, she darted a glance at him then away, fussing over the sling she’d arranged.

  ‘Please, Uncle Jake. Can you ask now?’

  ‘Of course.’ He got up and called Lotte on the house phone. The interview had been derailed by Ariane and her damaged bear. But perhaps that was a good thing. Despite requiring the best qualified person, he also had to find someone caring. Someone Ariane could relate to.

  As he watched the two females together it seemed as if he’d found just that. Or, he amended, someone who could put on a good initial show but who might not have the depth of experience Ariane needed. The thought loosened the ribbon of tension tightening around his gut.

  He didn’t want to give Caro Rivage the job.

  Yet there was no denying Ariane liked her. He owed it to his niece to give the woman a chance, despite his doubts. Without a solid reason to reject her she deserved that much.

  Ariane spoke again.

  ‘Can you speak English, Ariane?’ that throaty voice asked. ‘I don’t think your uncle understands Ancillan and it’s not nice to exclude him.’

  Spoken like a true governess. As if he cared. He was just glad to hear Ariane sound so animated after weeks of being withdrawn and teary.

  ‘Exclude?’

  ‘It means to shut someone out so they feel all alone. It’s not a friendly thing to do. You don’t want to hurt your uncle’s feelings, do you?’

  Ariane shook her head yet she looked unhappy. ‘But I like talking with you. It’s like being home, talking with my...’ Her mouth clamped shut and her little chin wobbled and Jake wanted to tell her he didn’t give a damn what language she spoke. He hated it when she withdrew into that grief-stricken bubble where he had trouble reaching her.

  He opened h
is mouth but Caro Rivage spoke first. ‘Of course you want to speak Ancillan. I’m sure you’ll soon be able to do that a lot.’

  ‘With you?’

  Jake’s heart cramped as he looked into that woebegone little face.

  ‘We’ll have to see, won’t we?’ Full marks to Ms Rivage for not playing on Ariane’s desperation to make promises she couldn’t keep. She turned to the opening door. ‘Now, is this Lotte?’

  Jake crossed his arms and leaned against the desk to watch proceedings. As expected, Lotte had wool in several colours, plus needles and scissors. The housekeeper reached for Maxim, offering to sew him better, but she was forestalled by Ariane, who insisted Caro do it.

  He saw the women’s gazes meet, assessing and something more. Caro asked permission to use Lotte’s supplies, then sought a second opinion on the choice of colour and needle size. By the time the two had discussed possible stitches and the need to reinforce Maxim’s other arm, the women were firm allies.

  Silently Jake applauded Caro Rivage. She knew she trod on the housekeeper’s territory and had adroitly co-opted her as an ally rather than a rival. Lotte fretted over Ariane like a broody hen with a single chick yet now she smiled and nodded, praising the newcomer’s stitching and telling Ariane that Maxim would be as good as new.

  Caro Rivage was a smooth operator, able to read people’s sensitivities.

  Was that what she tried to do with him? Were those downcast eyes a ploy to make her seem the ideal nanny?

  But she’d met his gaze steadily when she had to. He sensed she really was nervous, despite her show of calm. Clearly she wanted this job badly.

  Was she broke? Her clothes looked new if unremarkable. Maybe she wanted the kudos of working for him. A stint in his employ would open any door to her.

  The idea eased his tension. Why shouldn’t she want the job? This vague sense of something askew dissipated. The woman checked out. She had no criminal record and her references were good.

  ‘Maxim looks as good as new,’ he murmured when she cut the thread and handed the bear to a grinning Ariane.

  ‘Thank you, Caro!’

  Jake thought Ariane might even hug the newcomer, but instead she cuddled the toy while Lotte looked on, beaming from ear to ear.

  Jake cleared his throat. ‘Perhaps, Lotte, you could take Ariane for a snack while Ms Rivage and I conclude our business?’

  It took some doing as Ariane didn’t want to leave but finally they were alone. He watched Caro get to her feet. Her hands twisted together before she seemed to collect herself and let them fall to her sides. Her eyes met his and once more he felt the curious blankness of that dark-eyed stare. It struck him that when she was in control of herself she gave little away.

  Jake was torn between annoyance and admiration.

  * * *

  ‘Shall I sit by the desk again?’ She gestured to where she’d faced him across the expanse of glossy wood.

  ‘No, Ms Rivage.’ That deep voice rippled across her skin. ‘The interview is over.’

  Just like that dismay slammed into her. Her belly knotted with nausea. Caro flexed her fingers then linked them behind her back rather than press them to her roiling abdomen.

  He couldn’t dismiss her so quickly! They’d barely begun to talk when they’d been interrupted.

  ‘I believe you should reconsider, Mr Maynard.’ There. Her voice was even, though a little hoarse. Amazing what desperation could do.

  ‘Reconsider? You haven’t heard what I have in mind.’

  Amusement sparked in his cool, grey eyes as if delighting in her discomfort.

  Outrage filled her. She’d been the butt of her family’s amusement so often as a child that it grated. Because she was shy. Because she looked different. Because she didn’t fit with the rest of them.

  Okay, it was mainly her stepmother rather than her half-brothers who’d made her feel an outsider, but the wounds carved deep. Especially as her father had merely raised his eyebrows and told her not to be sensitive.

  Caro planted her feet more firmly and met Jake Maynard’s sparkling gaze with one of her own. ‘Perhaps you’d like to inform me what you do have in mind?’

  Her tone would have done her father proud. Cool, composed and superior. She saw Jake Maynard’s eyes widen then narrow suspiciously but she refused to back down. This was too important. This meant everything.

  ‘I had in mind to invite you to stay overnight. To give you a trial period with my niece.’

  Caro felt the air whoosh from her lungs, leaving her gasping for breath. Only years of training at projecting the right image kept her on her feet, for her knees trembled like leaves in a gale. Her heart jammed up in her throat and there was a roaring in her ears, blocking out the rest of his words. She saw him speak, tried to focus and heard something about this not being a promise of employment.

  ‘Well, Ms Rivage? You haven’t said anything. Does that mean you’re not prepared to stay?’

  Caro shook her head, buying time while she found her voice. ‘No, Mr Maynard, it doesn’t mean that at all. I’ll happily stay tonight and get to know Ariane.’

  ‘Good.’ He nodded but didn’t smile. In fact he didn’t look happy at all, though he was getting his own way.

  Perhaps he was so used to everyone jumping to do his bidding he didn’t consider how inconvenient it might be for a job applicant to make an unscheduled overnight stay. Fortunately Caro had the suitcase she’d brought to Switzerland in the car downstairs.

  ‘Very well. I’ll have my secretary draw up a simple agreement to cover us both in the event of any accident or liability during your stay.’

  He really was a businessman through and through. Caro wouldn’t have thought of that. But then she was in such a whirl she was barely capable of digesting what he’d said.

  She watched him walk out of the door, heard the murmur of male voices in the outer room and reached out a hand to anchor herself. Her fingers clutched fabric and she blinked. She was grabbing the thick curtain as if it were all that kept her upright.

  Caro sank onto the window seat, reeling. She felt hot and cold, anxious yet ecstatic.

  She had a chance.

  A chance to be with Ariane.

  Her long-lost daughter.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘NO, NO, EVERYTHING’S under control, Mr Maynard. The young lady is excellent with her. It’s good to see your niece smiling.’ Jake heard the relief in Lotte’s voice over the house phone.

  Because, with a temporary nanny here, she had time to get on with her own work uninterrupted? No, that wasn’t fair. Lotte had a soft spot for Ariane. He knew she was pleased to see the little girl happy.

  As he was. Even if he wished Ariane responded as enthusiastically to him as she did to this stranger she’d only known a few hours.

  Catching his thoughts, Jake scowled. He wasn’t jealous. The idea was preposterous. He thanked Lotte and hung up.

  ‘Dramas?’ Neil looked up from his laptop.

  ‘Apparently not.’

  His secretary nodded. ‘I thought so. I had a hunch about her—’

  ‘So you said. But you’ll forgive me if I refuse to rely on hunches where Ariane’s concerned.’

  Jake wanted solid evidence that the woman would be good for his niece. A couple of hours keeping her content wasn’t enough to tip the scales in her favour. Not against the other applicants.

  ‘You don’t like her?’

  Put that bluntly, Jake felt almost ashamed to realise he wanted Caro Rivage to fail. Because of some inexplicable hunch of his own.

  He shook his head. He trusted his instinct. It had saved his life in his long-ago army days. Listening to it had proved invaluable since moving into finance too, where sometimes the truth behind a too attractive investment could have sunk him if he hadn’t raised questions.

  ‘I’m reserving j
udgement.’

  He told himself it was true. He summed up people quickly, not having time to waste. But with this woman he found himself still guessing. Perhaps his inability to read her made him suspicious?

  Usually women were easily read. They liked his money, his power, his body, or perhaps all three.

  Jake’s mouth twisted. How had he ever thought Fiona, his last lover, different? Because she’d lasted longer? It wasn’t much of a recommendation. He didn’t miss her and felt a judder of distaste when he thought of her. Her attitude to Ariane had sealed her fate. Now she was back in England with her privileged friends or perhaps cruising the Riviera, searching for his replacement.

  Amazing that he’d considered even for a second being with her long term. Her double-barrelled surname and cut-glass accent, her knack of knowing anyone who was anyone at society events, should have pressed every hot button. He despised trust fund hangers on, expecting life to give them what they wanted. But she’d seemed so natural, down to earth and appealing. He’d been blinded by her quick mind, sense of humour and great sex.

  Maybe his sister had been right and he’d begun to hanker after more than casual affairs. Fiona had been on the same page with that. She’d had the nerve to talk about Ariane being an unnecessary encumbrance when he, they, started a family.

  The Honourable Fiona Petrie-Mathieson was a snob. Instead of helping when he found himself responsible for a grieving child, his lover had focused on the fact Ariane was adopted. She’d called her an anonymous baby, saying she could have been anyone’s. The Honourable Fiona didn’t want to pollute herself with ties to a child who didn’t come from class or money. She’d suggested Ariane would be better with others of her sort, at an orphanage school Fiona happened to hear about.

  As if Ariane weren’t his sister’s child and his only living family.

  ‘No need to look so fierce, boss.’ Neil raised his hands in mock surrender.

  ‘Have I been giving you a tough time?’ Jake leaned back and raised one eyebrow.

  His secretary grinned. ‘On a scale of ten? Let me think...’