The Billionaire Prince’s Nanny (European Billionaire Beaus Book 1)

by Leslie North

  Armin hung up the phone, then called to Natalia to rearrange his schedule and call a car. Her phone rang again as he headed out of the office. There would be scheduling to do, and quickly, but the press would pull it off for an announcement like this.

  Katie—Katie needed to know he was leaving. And the girls. It wouldn’t be too awful to let them know what he’d accomplished. She’d be so proud.

  But Katie and the girls were not to be found in the nursery, or in any other of the various playrooms and studios he’d set aside for their lessons and general living space. Armin pushed open the door to each one, expecting to be greeted by hushed concentration or peals of laughter and conversation between the three of them, but no, no, and no. They weren’t anywhere.

  His last stop was at Katie’s suite.

  He hesitated at the door, even though this was his own palace and he had every right to look for his girls anywhere they might be. They almost never came to her rooms, but who knew—maybe she’d stopped there in some transition or other, and any moment they’d burst back out—

  He raised his hand to the solid wood fo the door and rapped gently with his knuckles.

  There was no answer.

  Armin could feel the silence even from the hallway, but just in case, he opened the door and looked inside.

  It was odd, to find so many spaces without them. Katie hadn’t asked him about a trip outside the castle grounds and a little frisson of unease trickled down the back of his neck.

  She hadn’t asked, but maybe some plan had come to her at the last moment, and given the new trust they’d built up, maybe she’d decided to take matters into her own hands without checking with him.

  He stepped further inside the suite and opened a small closet to the right of the door.

  Katie’s purse wasn’t there.

  Armin strolled over to her desk, which was cluttered with notepads and papers. She might have left a note, maybe. Or a receipt for tickets to some venue…

  But no.

  Instead, his eyes tracked over the notepad on the top.

  It contained a very detailed list of everything he’d—and they’d—done in the past several days.

  He let his fingertips drag down the surface of the paper as his stomach twisted.

  It wasn’t notes to remember a schedule. It was the most personal, minute details of what they’d discussed. What they’d eaten. Things he’d laughed at.

  Armin swallowed down a wave of bitter betrayal.

  He should have known.

  Even as his mind worked overtime to provide an excuse, it couldn’t argue with the fact of the words on the page. This was just too much to be casual.

  Most damning of all—a scribbled phrase written more lightly than the rest, as if she hadn’t truly wanted to do it but had done it anyway. Trade for more time?

  Trade who for more time? What exactly was she doing, out there with all this information? His face went hot, then cold again. His information…and information about the princes.

  Who the hell was Katie working with?

  Armin turned away from the table, disgusted. The hurt knifed through his gut. He should have seen. He should have known.

  He stalked from the room, shutting the door quietly behind him, hoping furiously he’d catch her in the hallway. But no one met him, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

  I’m a prince, he thought. I was always a prince, and I never should have lost sight of that. Armin had always known that it was essential to protect the family, the monarchy, at all costs. Even if it cost him love.

  He’d only hoped that she’d been different.

  Armin gritted his teeth. Back to his office. He’d go back to his office first, and regroup. Was it worth questioning her? Was it worth…anything at all?

  Natalia met him in the hallway. “Prince Armin—I thought you were on your way to the ceremony.”

  Yes. The ceremony. The orphanage. The thing he’d been working toward all this time.

  “Of course. Have you called the car?” His voice sounded flat and harsh.

  Natalia cocked her head to the side. “Yes. It’s waiting in the back.”

  “Thank you.”

  He turned and went, that knife still twisting in his gut.

  Katie sat resolutely at the table in the café, waiting for Papazyan.

  She wanted to get up and pace the room, but it was crowded, lunch hour in full swing. The chattering voices washed over her, rising and falling, rising and falling.

  It was time to make a decision. That’s why she’d come early, leaving the girls at a special outdoor dance lesson their coach had arranged. They’d been giddy about dancing in the garden and neither of them had batted an eye when she’d said she had an errand to run in town and would be back before the lesson ended.

  Easy enough.

  Katie had hoped to give herself some time to think at the café.

  A young woman stepped to the side of her table, delivering a piping hot cup of tea. Katie considered her options while she scooped in sugar and added milk until the tea was a delicious creamy color.

  If she told Papazyan that she was done with him, he could run any number of stories. Some of the details she’d supplied him with would expose the fact that she’d been spying on Armin. There was no way around it. She’d been careful not to give him anything too personal, but the details themselves were not widely known and would be enough to signal to Armin what she’d done.

  Of course, if she agreed to keep supplying Papazyan with information, those same details would come out in his stories that way.

  Katie took a sip of the tea, still hot, and swallowed it down along with the lump in her throat.

  It was over.

  No matter what she chose to do—stand up to Papazyan or continue running defense for Armin and the girls from the inside—it was going to be the end of her relationship with the three of them. Armin in good conscience couldn’t keep her as his employee knowing what she’d done. And even if she bought herself a few more days or weeks, he’d know eventually.

  Katie could keep kidding herself, or she could face facts.

  She pushed the tea toward the center of the table and reached into her purse for a notebook and pen. It was one of her favorite notebooks, with thick paper and a bright red cover. She had to flip past several pages of notes on Armin to get to a clean page, which made her feel even worse.

  Then she hesitated.

  This was probably something she should say to his face, but the fact was that Katie didn’t think she could look him in the eye and do it. Just the sight of him warmed her all the way to her core. It made her giddy with excitement to think of the way he’d pulled her into hidden alcoves and rooms, unable to keep himself away from her. Saying these words to him out loud would shatter her heart.

  A letter it was.

  She bit her lip.

  Prince Armin—

  There. That wasn’t too sentimental, despite the way she felt nearly choked with how much she loved all of them.

  I have something to tell you, and I can’t do it in person. It’s quite awful, and you might never forgive me. Even so. I’m a writer. I know I’m good with words. I’m perhaps less good with speaking them, particularly when it’s such a delicate subject.

  The truth is that, shortly after you hired me, I was blackmailed by someone. I wanted to protect myself, yes, but I swear it wasn’t just about me. I was already smitten with the girls, and though I didn’t really know you as a man yet—a prince, yes, but not a man—I saw something in you that I couldn’t help responding to.

  I thought I could protect all three of you while protecting myself at the same time.

  The man who blackmailed me wanted information about you and your lifestyle. I wanted to give him just enough to keep him from going through with his threat, but not enough that any harm would come to you or the girls.

  I care for you all so much.

  She hesitated over the letter. I love you, she thought. Katie did love them, bu
t with Armin—well, with Armin it was something different, and here in this café, waiting for the moment of truth, there was no denying it.

  The truth was that Katie wanted to be by his side more than anything. She wanted to see things through with those precious girls, and with Armin.

  But that couldn’t happen now.

  It broke her heart.

  Which is why I have to leave.

  The blackmail has come to a head, and there’s no way for me to protect any of us from it anymore. My presence will only make things difficult for you—I know that. And I can’t bear to put you in the position of firing me for what I’ve done, which would be the responsible choice. I only wanted you to know how much I have loved working for you.

  It didn’t seem like quite enough—working for you. But there was nothing else she could put in the letter that would accurately describe the way her throat went tight and hot at the thought of not ever seeing Armin again, or reading stories to the girls on a lazy afternoon.

  Sincerely,

  Katie

  There. It was written.

  She swallowed the frustration and the sadness that had swept over her while she was writing it, folded it neatly, and put it back in her purse along with her pen.

  Then she waited for Papazyan to arrive.

  12

  Katie felt the moment he came in the door.

  It was possible she was overfocused on waiting for the man to arrive, but he was a creep. He had blackmailed her. And her skin crawled thinking of all the ways he’d made her complicit in harming the people she loved. Yes, she’d been trying to protect herself, and protect Armin and the girls, but she’d gone about it all wrong. It shouldn’t have come to a letter dropped off at the last moment before she disappeared. She should have gone to Armin immediately. That, at least, was clear from the moment Papazyan walked into the café.

  Katie was looking into her cup of tea, gone lukewarm by the time the door opened and let him in, but she knew it was him by the unpleasant shiver that ran down her spine. It was only confirmed when she raised her eyes from the teacup to find him already smirking at her.

  There was no way he could know what she was planning.

  She sat up straight and kept her face as coldly neutral as she could. I’m done with you, she rehearsed for the hundredth time since she’d finished her letter. I’m not doing this anymore. You have what you have, and this arrangement is over.

  Papazyan slid into the seat across from her with the air of someone in a tremendous hurry who had not, in fact, wanted to be at this meeting. He looked at her like she was an employee who’d been caught stealing supplies from the janitorial closet. “Time’s run out, Ms. Crestley.”

  Well. That was a more dramatic opening than she’d been expecting, but she could roll with the punches. There was really no other choice.

  Katie frowned at him. “You’re right, Papazyan. Time is up.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “You misunderstand.”

  “You misunderstand.” Katie took a deep breath and summoned her prepared speech. “I’m—”

  “You’re going to be front-page news all across Stolvenia.”

  She gritted her teeth. “What are you saying?”

  “You’ve left me with no choice in the matter. For weeks, I’ve waited for you to provide me with something newsworthy, and you’ve failed on that account. So I’m running a different story.”

  “You’re going to do it, then. Put a story about me in the paper.” Katie’s gut went cold. If Papazyan was going through with the threat he’d made, then she should have the letter sent by courier and get out of the country before—

  No.

  If the news really was about to break then she had to tell Armin face to face.

  And she would, just as soon as this nightmare was over.

  “About you, yes.” Papazyan looked disgustingly satisfied with himself. “You and the prince. A relationship with the nanny—how commonplace. How salacious. My readers are going to love it.”

  Katie laughed, a hollow sound. “That’s completely false. You don’t think the fallout from running a story based on lies will be worse for you than for me?”

  He shook his head. “It’s so charming that you think I’ll rely on your word. Oh, no. No, Ms. Crestley. You’re far from my only source, and I’m going to run everything, beginning with the deal you made with me your first week on the job. You can deny it all you want. It’ll only make it look like you’re covering for yourself.”

  Other sources? Katie wanted to know who had been talking to him, other than her. She’d carried the weight of this on her shoulders for so long that it was crushing her, and all along—all along—there had been other people feeding him secrets from inside the palace? God, could she have been any more naive?

  Papazyan leaned in, his voice suddenly dropping to a soft and sympathetic level. “You know, it’ll be better for you, Ms. Crestley, if you tell me everything you know. Right now, while we’re at this table.” He blinked at her. “If you do, I’ll give you partial credit in the byline.”

  The smile that spread across her face was so fake, so incredulous, that it must have looked real to Papazyan because he smiled back at her.

  “A byline. You’re offering me a byline.”

  “Now you’re beginning to see. Ms. Crestley, this is the only way our arrangement works for both of us.”

  She balled her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. “No. You’re the one who doesn’t see. You don’t see anything.”

  “On the contrary. I—”

  “You’re awful. You’re an awful, awful man, and I’m done with this. I don’t care if it ruins me.” With a little shock, Katie realized that it was true. “I don’t,” she said, half to him, half to herself. “I’ve been ruined before, and I survived. This is a big world.” This was going slightly off the rails. Focus. Focus.

  “Ms. Crestley—”

  “No.” She stood up, hooking her purse over her shoulder, and stared him down. “I am done making a career from gossiping about people. That’s all this is. That’s all your pathetic little news outlet does. It prints weaponized, politicized gossip, and it’s meant to be cruel to people who—” Katie’s chest ached at the thought of how hard Armin had worked to repair the orphanage from the ground up. He had wanted so badly to do it without taking any of the credit, just because it was the right thing to do.

  He was so honorable.

  And she had been the farthest thing from honorable.

  “What you’re doing is not real journalism. It never was real journalism. And I would be mortified for my name to be in one of your bylines.”

  There was that smirk again. No matter what she said, no matter what she did, she couldn’t wipe it from his face.

  “If that’s the way you want to play it, Ms. Crestley. But if that’s what you’re choosing to do—”

  “I’ve already chosen it.” She gathered her will to turn her back on him.

  “Then I recommend that you vacate the city before the story runs in forty-eight hours.” He laughed out loud at what he seemed to think was an excellent joke. “I’ll give you a head start.”

  “You’re here.”

  Her voice was half-shock, half-resignation.

  Armin stood in front of the desk in Katie’s rooms, where he had been standing for the last fifteen minutes, waiting for her to appear. Now she had—walking quickly through the door like she meant to sneak past him and back out of his life before he noticed.

  “Yes,” he replied, his own breath cold in his throat. “I am. I’ve been waiting for you to return from whatever errand you’ve been out on.”

  Katie lifted her chin, her dark amber eyes determined. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “Well, I am, even if you don’t think I should be,” he said. “But that’s not my concern at the moment. My concern is this.”

  He brandished the collection of Katie’s notes, the notepad full of details in her neat writing.
/>   “You went through my desk.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even an accusation—instead, Katie only sounded tired. “Those are my notes.”

  “The question is…” He flipped the pad around so he could read the words again, though he didn’t need to. They were burned into his brain. Every stroke of her pen, there forever. “Who are these notes for? Because I can’t imagine why you would need to keep track of how I felt about all these meetings or the fact that I wake up in the middle of most nights.” The betrayal was deep and stinging, and Armin forced down the wild hope that she would have some perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this.

  But the only reasonable explanation was that she was a spy.

  Katie stepped farther into the room and looked away, down into her purse. She pulled a paper from the depths and approached him. The air buzzed with her presence, the space between them humming—and Armin hated it. He hated the way his body felt lighter and freer at the sight of her, despite what she had done.

  “I can’t justify anything but I can, at least, explain everything. You deserve to know. In fact…” She held the folded paper out to him with a steady hand. “I’ve written it out. So…” Katie straightened up and began to turn away, toward the suite’s bedroom. “I thought you could read it while I pack my things.”

  There it was, then. The final confirmation that she was a spy. Katie hadn’t even bothered to deny that the notes were innocent.

  He opened the letter, but he couldn’t force himself to read beyond the first two lines.

  “Where are you going?” he thundered, and Katie froze, then turned slowly back to face him. Armin tossed the letter onto the surface of the desk. “I don’t want some written confession. If you’re going to plant yourself in my household and spy on me, I want to hear it from you.”

  Katie’s chin quivered, but she didn’t look away. “I never wanted to be in this position.”

  “Then why did you put yourself here? Tell me that.”

  “I took the job because I needed the work and I thought I could be good at it. That much is—that much is absolutely true. But things started to go wrong when I took the girls to the park.”