Mills and Boon Christmas Joy Collection. Liz Fielding

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duty to his country. Someone who’d just told her that he was sorry. That meant more than anything.

      She’d been harbouring an illusion for the last ten years. Trouble was, the reality was better than the dream.

      She felt a rush of blood to her cheeks, but Alex had reached across the table and taken her hand.

      ‘Thank you, Ruby. Thank you for doing this for me. Thank you for doing this for my daughter.’

      She stood up quickly. His daughter.

      ‘It’s time to go. I need to get back and plan for the nursery with Annabelle and her nanny.’

      He was being kind. He was being sweet. He was thanking her for doing her job.

      Her job. The one he was paying her to do.

      If Alex was disturbed by her abruptness he didn’t show it. He just signalled to the waiter and left some money on the table.

      Her cheek was burning from where he’d touched her. It almost felt as if he’d left a mark on her skin.

      She needed some distance. She needed some space.

      Most of all she needed to remember why she was here—to assess a little girl. Nothing more. Nothing less.

      FOR A MOMENT earlier today Alex had been sure there was something in the air between him and Ruby.

      He’d managed to persuade his security team to stay a comfortable distance away from them. He knew the palace must be suffocating for Ruby. But he’d never considered it might be suffocating to Annabelle.

      Ruby was here to do a job. She’d already made an impact on his staff by insisting she stay in the staff quarters next to Annabelle. He’d tried not to smirk when he’d heard Rufus, his private secretary, scold her for calling him Alex.

      ‘You must address him as Your Highness or Prince Regent,’ he’d insisted.

      But Ruby had laughed and waved her hand. ‘Nonsense. He’s Alex.’

      There was a hum in the air around her. When she remembered, her manners could be impeccable. But most of the time she was just Ruby, and his staff were starting to warm to her.

      Her focus on her task was obvious to all. She was unobtrusive, watching Annabelle and listening quietly. None of her assessment had put any demands on the child. After months of people trying to make Annabelle do things she clearly didn’t want to, or examining her ears, tongue and throat, it was a refreshing change.

      Ruby. She’d been fixed in his mind for the last ten years. Her brown curls, dark eyes, red coat and a carefree attitude had wrapped their way around him like cotton candy around a stick.

      But it was other things he remembered too. The laughter in her eyes, the flirtation, the buzz between them. That moment when their lips had touched and the fireworks had started going off in his head as well as in the sky. Ruby had sent a rush of blood around his body. He’d never felt a connection like that. He’d never had a kiss like that again.

      He remembered the feel of her warm curves filling the palms of his hand underneath that red coat. The skin on her cheek where he’d stroked it. Every sensation of just being around Ruby.

      Part of what he remembered was reality, part fantasy. He hadn’t wanted that night to end. To Ruby, he’d been just Alex. At that point in his life he’d been able to do that. But it had been the last night of his life to have that opportunity, and spending it with Ruby couldn’t have been more perfect. If only it had ended differently.

      He looked down and shuffled the ever-growing mound of papers on his desk. All things that needed his signature. Emails were all very well, but some things still required a signature.

      He picked up the phone and dialled the number of the clinic in Switzerland. It didn’t matter that he knew the doctors would phone him if they had any concerns. Or that he had a multitude of staff members to do it for him. After ten years, he still liked to keep a check of things on his own.

      He moved the papers on the desk again, looking to find a letter for a foreign dignitary. Something fluttered to the floor. A photo. He picked it up and smiled. It was ten years old. Ruby, just the way he remembered her, taken by one of his security team on New Year’s Eve. He’d only found out about it a few months later, when he’d wanted to track her down. His Head of Security had admitted they had some photographs and had looked into her past—all to check her authenticity.

      It was of the two of them, sitting at the table in that café next to the Four Seasons. They were laughing. Ruby had her head thrown back, her dark hair was glossy, and she was smiling from ear to ear. But the thing that had always struck him about that picture was the way they were looking at each other. Even though Ruby was laughing she was still looking at him, and he at her.

      A little moment captured in time.

      A million different possibilities. A million different futures.

      If he’d turned a different corner that night he’d never have met Ruby Wetherspoon, and that thought made his stomach twist almost as much as the thought of what might have been.

      Deep down he knew his father would never have accepted his fascination with an English healthcare worker. He’d never fully understood it himself.

      But no one could deny the connection between them. This picture was everlasting proof of that.

      When he had his darkest moments—when the nights just seemed to last for ever—it was thoughts of Ruby that gave him comfort. Thoughts of being twenty-four again and having the world at his feet.

      He sighed and opened a drawer to put the photo inside. Ruby had never been a threat and his security staff had filed their paperwork away.

      He just couldn’t do the same.

      * * *

      There it was again. That strange noise.

      Ruby moved from the window seat, where she’d been watching the sun start to lower in the sky. Evenings could be long in the palace. Annabelle went to bed early and most of the time Ruby spent her time walking in the gardens, reading a book or talking to Polly on the phone.

      Polly was still unimpressed.

      The noise again. Was it a whimper?

      She stood up quickly. Brigette, the nanny, had gone to bed earlier with a migraine. Could it be Annabelle?

      Annabelle’s door had been left open earlier, so Ruby walked out into the corridor and hesitated, her hand above the door handle. Part of her was worried. Annabelle wasn’t that familiar with her yet. Maybe she would be scared if Ruby went into her room.

      She took a deep breath as the whimper continued and pushed the door open. There was no way she could leave any child upset—whether they knew her or not.

      The room was dark. Even though the sun hadn’t set yet there were blackout blinds at the window. It only took her a few seconds to realise the bed was empty.

      She

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