Martha Shields - The Blacksheep Prince's Bride

“As if I what?”

But now that he thought about the times he’d seen Rowena in a roomful of people, she’d been flitting around, yes, but there seemed to be a method to her flightiness. She would talk to every man in the room—except him, of course—but only for a moment. And she was usually carrying a tray of something, using it as a barrier between her and the men obviously interested in her.

It was as if she knew that behind her shield, she could flirt all she wanted…and still be safe.

“As if what?” she repeated.

He met her worried glance until her gaze was pulled back by the demanding road.

He didn’t want to play this hand just yet. He needed to test his theory…to see if he could determine her motivation. As a lawyer, he’d learned that motivation was everything. With the right motivation—right, at least, in their minds—people were capable of committing terrible crimes…even against themselves.

He knew Rowena wouldn’t be satisfied with a brush-off, so he’d distract her by making her angry. “As if you enjoy being a servant. As if you love pointing out your inferiority.”

On cue, she bristled. “I’m not inferior. Just different.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m a nanny, and you’re a prince.”

“I’m American. Americans don’t have titles.”

“You’re fourth in line for the throne. Third if the king…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence, and he couldn’t blame her, but for another reason. “The last thing in the world I want is the throne of Edenbourg.”

She glanced at him carefully. “You don’t want to be king?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I just quit one high-stress job so I could raise my son. I certainly don’t want to jump in the middle of one with twenty-four-hour stress.”

She brought the car to a halt at the entrance to a roundabout and studied him as if she couldn’t decide whether or not she could believe him. Her expression reminded him of his suspicion about why she’d been placed in his household. Was she there to ascertain his involvement in the king’s disappearance…or just to take care of his son?

“It’s a lot of money,” she pointed out as she eased into the empty roundabout.

He shrugged. “I have plenty of money.”

“Not this much. Just think about how much the crown jewels are worth.”

“You mean the fabulous riches locked up in some vault somewhere that no one can enter but the king and his heir, enough to buy the world two times over?”

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