the royal security patrol. Jenna had originally planned to run to the United Kingdom because she’d been there before and it had a population large enough to lose herself in, but Kristen had a friend in the United States who’d worked with her on an exchange program a couple of years ago and was now in a position to help. Kristen and her U.S. counterpart were now the only two people who knew both who she really was and precisely where she was. She was sure her parents would have used her passport’s trail to track her to the U.S., but it was a big country.
She’d been sending vague updates to her family through Kristen so they knew she was okay, and the press and citizens had been told she was overseas studying. In retrospect, the plan had several flaws, not least of which was that she couldn’t be “overseas studying” for the rest of her life. But she’d been panicking and grieving when she’d made the plan and couldn’t see a way out now it was in place.
She’d worried that she’d put Kristen’s job in jeopardy, but her friend had assured her that her job was probably the safest of anyone’s in the patrol. The queen needed Kristen right where she was in case Jenna needed specialized help, and to keep the updates coming.
As the truck turned a corner in the driveway and drove out of sight, she closed the door and picked Meg up.
“Shall we see what goodies were delivered for Bonnie?” she asked. Meg gurgled in reply and Jenna kissed the top of her head.
Liam came across the back patio, toed off his shoes at the door and waved to her through the open living areas that connected the front door to the back.
“Was that the baby supplies arriving?”
“Yes. They assembled the furniture so we just need to put it into position and bring the other pieces into the nurseries.”
“We can do that now if you want,” he said, resting his hands low on his hips.
“Bonnie’s still asleep in your room, so it would be good timing.”
They spent twenty minutes moving an extra chest of drawers into Meg’s nursery and a single bed out of Bonnie’s to make way for the new crib. Once they were done, they sat on the rug on the floor in Bonnie’s nursery, Meg playing with a stuffed velvet frog that had been in the delivery, Liam taking sheets, blankets and baby clothes out of their plastic packets and Jenna unpacking the baby creams and lotions and setting them up on the new changing table.
Liam’s deep voice broke the silence. “Is your accent Danish?”
She hesitated. Was telling him her true homeland risky? She’d been telling people she was Danish, just on the off chance they’d seen a photo of her before and the name of her country jogged their memory. But for some reason she didn’t want to lie to Liam Hawke any more than it was necessary. Perhaps because he was trusting her with his daughter—the ultimate act for a parent—she felt that she’d be betraying him somehow with a lie she could avoid.
“I’m from Larsland. It’s an archipelago of islands in the Baltic Sea. We’re not far from Denmark and people often get our accents mixed up.”
“I’ve heard of it. Lots of bears and otters.”
“That’s us,” she said, smiling.
He fixed his deep green gaze on her. “Are you going home soon, or are you going to put down roots in the U.S.?”
“I’m seeing a bit of the world, so I’ll probably move on at some point.” That wasn’t strictly true—she wasn’t traveling, but she didn’t yet know what the future held. Once she worked out how, she’d have to return to Larsland and face the music, and it was only fair Liam knew there was an element of uncertainty in her future. “But not until you and Bonnie are ready,” she said to reassure him she wasn’t flighty.
“This wasn’t a lifelong commitment,” he said. “As long as you give me notice, you’ll be free to move on and see more of the world any time you want.”
“Thanks,” she said.
Liam stood, drawing her eyes up his tall frame. “I was serious when I said I’d increase your salary by twenty percent over what Dylan was paying you. And if you have any conditions, let me know.”
“You don’t even know if I’ll be good at the job yet,” she said, pushing to her feet before she got a crick in her neck.
Liam crossed his arms over his broad chest and rocked back on his heels, and once again he looked like the multi-millionaire businessman that he was. “Dylan wouldn’t have kept you this long if you weren’t a good worker, and Bonnie has been happy with you so far. Besides,” he said with a lazy grin, “if it’s not working out, I’ll fire you and hire someone else.”
She knew that grin was meant to soften his words. Instead, as it spread across his face, it stole her breath away. Boys and then men had tried a lot of tricks over the years to get her attention, hoping to marry into the royal family, but she’d always seen through them and been far from impressed. Yet Liam Hawke threw one careless grin her way, and she was practically putty in his hands. She held back a groan. This was not a good start to a new job....
“In the meantime,” she said, bringing her focus back to their conversation, “you want me to be happy in my work conditions on the chance I am actually good at the job.”
He tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Exactly. A good businessman keeps his options open, utilizes the resources available and moves on when it’s no longer effective or profitable.”
Meg yawned again. “I’d better feed Meg and get her down for a nap because I think Bonnie will be awake soon.”
She ran a fingertip across her daughter’s button nose. Her eyes were getting heavy, so Jenna began softly humming an old Larsland lullaby that Meg liked.
Liam dug his hands into his pockets and turned to the door. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Without losing her place in the song or lifting her head, Jenna nodded. But once he was gone, she moved to the window so she could watch her new employer as he strode from the house toward the flower farm around back. And the question played over and over in her mind—why did she have to find this man, of all men, so appealing?
Liam clawed his way through the nightmare. A child was crying, desperate, inconsolable, wanting—no needing—him to do something. He woke with a start, wrenching himself from the grip of the dream. Except the crying didn’t stop. For a moment he didn’t understand...and then it all came back.
Bonnie. His daughter was crying.
He stumbled out of bed, rubbing his face with one hand and checking he was wearing pajama bottoms with the other. Sharing night feeds with a woman meant making sure he was dressed twenty-four hours a day. He flicked on a light and saw the time—two a.m.—as he headed down the hall.
Just before he stepped into Bonnie’s nursery, a light came on in the room and he saw Jenna, eyes soft with recent sleep, hair messed from her pillow and a white cotton robe pulled tightly around her body. She reached down and lifted his daughter into her arms as she whispered soothing words. Liam’s heart caught in the middle of his throat, and for a long moment he couldn’t breathe. The image in the soft light of the lamp was like a master’s watercolor.
