Dashing: A Royal Cinderella Billionaire Story

by Brooks, Sophie

  He held my hand for a moment longer. Perhaps he too was worried I might fall again. Then he pulled off his sunglasses and winked one vivid hazel eye before walking over to the man who was setting my suitcases at the top of the steps.

  My driver took off his long gray coat and cap and handed them to the servant who’d dealt with my luggage. “Thank you, Franz,” he said.

  “You’re welcome, Your Majesty.”

  What??

  My heart skipped a beat as Franz put the cap and coat on and then hopped into the SUV and drove off. The steward carried my luggage up the steps and into the palace.

  Words deserted me as I stared at the man I’d thought was the chauffeur. The man the steward had bowed to as he passed. The man who’d just been referred to as… as…

  “Your M-M-Majesty,” I stammered, my whole body trembling. This man was Prince Nickolaus? And I’d just babbled on and on in the car.

  Oh god, it was even worse than that. I’d gushed about the prince to the prince. And now I was standing here with my mouth hanging open like an idiot. Even an American like me knew that wasn’t the proper way to greet royalty. I dropped into a quick curtsy. Luckily, I’d learned how to do that for a play I’d been in years ago. Thank god for muscle-memory.

  My mind reeled as I straightened up and looked at the tall man in front of me. It didn’t make any sense. Why had Prince Nickolaus come to the station to pick me up?

  “I… I don’t understand,” I said. This probably wasn’t something you were supposed to say to royalty, but I couldn’t think of anything else. “Why didn’t my new employer come for me himself?”

  “He did,” the prince said, and for some reason, my mind fixated on the fact that his voice was deep and rumbly with just the barest hint of an accent.

  “He did?” I echoed, my brain still trying to kick into a higher gear.

  The prince tilted his head at me. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? I’m your new employer. You were hired to be the nanny for my children.”

  My mind went completely and utterly blank as the shock hit me. I tried to speak but discovered that my lungs were empty. I drew a shaky breath and tried again. “I am?”

  “You are.” For some reason, his piercing gaze steadied me. He gestured toward the large door that was still open. “Welcome to Falkenberg Castle.” He waited. Patiently.

  At last I took a half step forward. “Thank you.”

  And then I walked up the stairs and into an honest-to-god castle.

  A castle I was going to live in for the next half year.

  A castle with a prince who put storybook Prince Charmings to shame.

  Unbelievable.

  2

  Nico

  She can’t stay.

  That was the thought that hit me before I even made it up to my office. Cara Andrews was not what I was expecting—not even close.

  My first impression at the train station was that she was a child herself, and therefore wholly unsuited for caring for my children. When she’d fallen into my arms, she felt like she’d hardly weighed more than one of the twins.

  At my desk, I located the paperwork the firm had sent. They were the oldest and most elite au pair agency in all of Europe, and as a misguided matter of pride, they’d refused to join the digital age. Therefore, an assistant had been forced to make arrangements by phone, and the agency had sent the relevant documents by mail.

  It was a slow process that had taken months. But it was all for nothing when the original nanny had to cancel at the end of January. Despite their antiquated methods, they’d reacted quickly and found a replacement. Though they claimed they’d vetted Ms. Andrews’ background thoroughly, they hadn’t had time to send as much documentation on her as they had the first woman.

  Rifling through the thin folder, I finally found what I was looking for—a grainy photocopy of her passport. The picture was barely legible, but her birthdate was clear—or so I’d thought. Holding the copy up to the light, I groaned. I’d thought her birth year was 1985, but now I could see it was actually 1995. There was a little smudge on the paper that had made me think the nine was an eight. So that made her what… twenty-two? Or twenty-three? Definitely too damn young to take care of my children.

  So that explained that mystery. What it didn’t explain was why I’d responded the way I did. Pretending not to speak English. Letting her prattle on. Enjoying the look of shock on her face when I revealed who I was.

  I didn’t do things like that. At least not anymore. Sure, in college I’d goofed around as much as the next immature male, but that wasn’t me—not now, at any rate. I had two children to raise and a country to run. Except with my twins, I rarely cracked a smile nowadays, never mind pranking new employees. But she’d seemed so sure I didn’t speak English that it was hard to resist.

  Plus, I’d been a little curious about what would come out of her mouth next. Her voice and the nonstop flow of words reminded me of my time in the US. Though I’d gone to school in the US for over a decade, I hadn’t been around many Americans since permanently moving back to Falkenberg two years ago. I’d forgotten how fast some of them could talk.

  “Your Majesty?”

  My chief steward stood in the doorway, the silver buttons on his navy uniform gleaming. “Good evening, Henrik.”

  “I put the market reports on your desk. The NASDAQ is down, sir.”

  “Thank you. I’ll look at them later.” Frustrated, I glanced at the neat stack of papers. The world economy was changing day by day, and I was supposed to be helping Falkenberg businesses stay current, not waiting around for the goddamn agency to find a third au pair.

  “Also, dinner will be ready in ten minutes. The children and Miss Andrews will be down shortly.”

  Crap.

  I’d forgotten that I’d told Derrick and Elyse they’d meet the new nanny at dinner tonight. Briefly, I ran through my options. There wasn’t any point in introducing them to someone who wouldn’t be staying.

  On the other hand, she was likely tired and hungry. The flight from California to Europe was a long one. I’d made it many times in my youth. Miss Andrews made the journey in good faith, so it wasn’t like I was going to leave her at the train station or throw her out in the cold at night. I’m not a tyrant, though legend has it that Mother’s great-great-great-grandfather was one.

  Needless to say, when I shared European and Falkenberg history with the children, I left out all mention of King Friedrich and his notorious exploits.

  As I washed up, I tried to look on the bright side. She wasn’t what I needed in a nanny, but that didn’t necessarily make her an unsuitable dinner guest. It would do the children good to speak with a native speaker of English for an evening. In spite of myself, I was a little curious about what they’d think of her. Likely she’d defy their expectations as much as she had mine.

  The au pair agency had indicated that Miss Andrews had been a teacher, though due to her age, she couldn’t have been one for very long. She certainly didn’t look like any teachers I’d ever had. The last thing I needed around here was someone that young and attractive.

  I strode out of my suite but paused in the hallway. Young and attractive? Where had that last part come from? She was a good-looking woman, that was true, with that white-gold hair and those vivid blue eyes. But that wasn’t the problem—the problem was her youth.

  There was no way someone that young could be responsible enough to care for my children. I needed a no-nonsense nanny, not a pretty companion. The latter was another part of my life that was long over. But as I started down the hall again, a recollection from the car ride came to mind unbidden. When she hadn’t known who I was, she’d said I looked like Prince Charming.

  She couldn’t stay, so her appearance didn’t matter either way. Still… the idea that she’d been enamored of mine made me fight back a smile. Just like I had for at least half the car ride.

  It would be interesting to see if she had that same effect on my children. They certainly
hadn’t had much to smile about in the last few years.

  3

  Cara

  “Dinner will be served in five minutes, Miss Andrews.”

  “What?” I turned around in a panic and saw a stout woman with curly gray hair and a pleasant smile at the door. “Did you say five minutes?”

  “Yes, miss.”

  Oh god. Someone had shown me to my room a little while ago, but instead of unpacking or exploring my new living quarters, I’d spent the time desperately trying to get a signal on my phone. For one thing, I couldn’t wait to tell my sister who my new employer was. Yes, the agency had emphasized the need to protect the privacy of their clients, but Autumn could keep a secret. I’d certainly kept quite a few of hers. Besides, she’d be visiting here in a few months and would find out anyway.

  But my need for information about my situation had taken precedence over my desire to talk to my sister. My guidebook had said very little about the royal family, and I’d already embarrassed myself in front of the prince once today.

  Every time I thought about that, I cringed. I couldn’t believe I’d referred to him as handsome in the car. Why had I assumed he didn’t speak much English? There was no doubt he’d understood every word I said since his English had been flawless once we reached the castle.

  My face flushed. I’d practically drooled over a man who’d turned out to be sitting right in front of me. No way was I doing anything that stupid again.

  A small sound from the doorway reminded me that I wasn’t alone. Maybe this woman could help me find out more info. After all, she lived here—Google didn’t.

  “Please call me Cara,” I said, walking over and shaking her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You too, miss. I’m Gretchen.”

  “That’s a lovely name, Gretchen.” She smiled, and I continued on. “Can you please tell me about dinner? Will it just be with the children? I haven’t met them yet.”

  “Oh, you’ll like them, miss. Darling little things. Very smart and polite.”

  There was still so much I needed to know. “They’re twins, right? A boy and a girl?”

  “Yes, Prince Derrick and Princess Elyse. They’re seven. Or, as they like to say, seven and a half.” Wow, that was young to have already lost a parent. My heart went out to the young prince and princess. I’d been eleven when I lost my mom.

  “I can’t wait to meet them,” I said sincerely. “Will it just be the three of us at dinner?”

  “Prince Nickolaus always eats with them, but there is no need to dress up. Dinner with the prince is an informal affair.”

  That seemed like an oxymoron to me—an informal dinner with royalty—but a sigh of relief escaped my lips. I’d only brought a few dresses, so it was good to know that dinner wasn’t formal. Still, it was my first night here, so I hastily dug around for something appropriate in my suitcase. “Thank you for the information, Gretchen. I’ve never had dinner with a royal family before.”

  “They are a very dear family, miss.” Gretchen’s English was accented, but I didn’t have much trouble understanding her, which was fortunate since she was my only source of information at the moment. “The children feel like my own grandchildren some days.”

  I smiled. What a sweet woman. But that brought up another thought. “And their actual grandmother, the queen? Will I see her tonight?”

  “Oh no, miss. She almost never leaves her chambers on the other side of the castle. She has her own staff, kitchen, and dining room.”

  Whew. That was a relief. Meeting a prince and his children was daunting enough for one day.

  Promising Gretchen that I’d be ready in a few minutes, I dashed to the attached bathroom and threw on a pink dress. Peering into the mirror, I attacked my hair, debating on whether to leave it down or not. But she’d said dinner was informal, so I neatened it a bit and left it cascading over my shoulders.

  While I touched up my makeup in front of a mirror with an ornate gold frame, it hit me all over again that I was staying in an actual palace. Unbelievable. My room looked fairly modern. When I’d followed the steward up here, we’d walked up a grand staircase made out of stone, and passed through many hallways with historic paintings and suits of armor. But this part of the castle seemed to have been updated. Except for the huge four-poster bed and antique furniture, my room wouldn’t have looked out of place in a nice hotel.

  I’d been shivering since I’d set foot in the place, so I finished my outfit with a scarf, tights, and tan boots with a medium heel. I was only five foot four, so most of my shoes had heels.

  “Please, miss, they’ll be waiting for us,” Gretchen called. I started toward the doorway, but then I remembered something. Before I’d left, I’d spent many hours debating what to bring as a present. For the children, I had a variety of games and books. But for my new unknown employer, I’d finally decided on a nice bottle of wine. My brother-in-law had helped me choose one of the best vintages that California vineyards had to offer.

  As I peeled off the layers of padding from around the bottle, I hesitated. Could I really give a bottle of wine to a prince? Should I? Clearly, I needed to brush up on royal etiquette. But the prince had seemed rather down-to-earth on the car ride here. Of course, I hadn’t known it was him, but he’d seemed to have a smile playing about his lips a few times. Or a smirk. In retrospect, it was obvious that he’d been amused hearing me rambling on, not knowing who he was. The thought made me blush.

  But I couldn’t second-guess myself forever. I’d brought this present for my new employer. It wasn’t like I could get something else at this point. Dusting off the bottle, I joined Gretchen in the hall.

  There wasn’t a lock on my door, so I just closed it and hurried after the older woman. She led me down several long hallways, down a staircase, around several corners, and then up a different staircase. I could already tell that I was going to spend a lot of time getting lost around here.

  “Gretchen,” I called as I tried to keep up.

  She slowed, for which I was grateful.

  “Do you know if there’s Wi-Fi here?”

  “Is that like the internet, miss? Prince Nickolaus had a very good system installed. He uses the internet for his business.”

  That was news to me. I didn’t know what kind of business dealings the average prince had, but it was good to know there was some way to get a signal here.

  A delicious scent filled the air as we walked. It smelled like well-prepared beef, perhaps. It reminded me that I hadn’t eaten since… actually, I didn’t know how long it had been. I’d flown into Frankfurt this morning and then gotten right on a train. There’d been a few snacks here and there, but I was famished.

  “It smells really good. Do you think that after dinner you could find out how I can get online? I’d like to send a quick note to my sister and let her know I’m here.”

  Gretchen nodded, rounded one last corner, and led me into a small room that seemed to be right outside the kitchen. Several people sat at a large wooden table, but before I could get a proper look at them, Gretchen stopped dead in front of me. “Oh! Good evening, Your Majesty.”

  Clearly, Gretchen’s idea of an informal meal and mine were quite different. Was I going to have to refer to Prince Nickolaus that way every time I saw him, too? If so, I supposed now was as good of a time as any to start doing so.

  Stepping around Gretchen, I started toward the table. But then I stopped dead, too. Several servers stood ramrod straight, and the prince and his children were rising to their feet. The reason for this behavior entered the room from a doorway opposite the one I’d used. She was a tall, stately woman in her early sixties, wearing a dark green suit made of some kind of rich, heavily embroidered material. Her dark brown hair curled under the heavy gold circlet on top of her head.

  “Mother, I didn’t know you’d be joining us tonight.” Prince Nickolaus moved forward, took the queen’s hand, and brought it to his lips briefly. Outside of the theater, I’d never seen any man do
that before—let alone to his mother.

  His mother, the queen. An actual queen of an entire nation. Somehow, she was more intimidating than the prince, his children, and the massive castle put together. I was frozen in place, completely flummoxed for what to do besides stand there like a deer in the headlights. And oh god—now the queen was looking my way with one eyebrow raised. Should I bow? Or say something to her?

  Fortunately, the prince moved to my side. “Mother, I’d like you to meet Miss Cara Andrews. Miss Andrews, this is Queen Margrit.”

  I dipped into the second real curtsy in my life and rose to find her eyes still on me. Outside of that move, I didn’t have the slightest clue what to do. Then a phrase from a play I’d been in sprang to my lips. “It’s a great honor, Your Majesty.” And it was a great honor—but also a really scary one. While Nickolaus looked like a modern prince and a man of the people, the woman in front of me looked like old-school royalty who might call for my beheading at any moment.

  Hopefully not in front of the children.

  Unsure what to say, I looked down and was momentarily surprised to see the wine bottle in my hands. Unfortunately, the queen seemed to have followed my gaze. Should I give it to her? Did people give wine to a monarch? But what else could I do? It was obvious it was a gift. There wasn’t any other reason to be wandering the halls with a bottle. “Umm… this is for you, Your Majesty, from a winery in California.”

  The queen was silent for at least ten seconds as I awkwardly held the bottle out to her. “California wine,” she finally said, as if it were as unheard of as platypus steak or broccoli ice cream. “I’m sure it will be… of interest to the royal vintner.”