She pasted on a smile. “No need to thank me—I’m just glad that Bonnie will have as much of her family around her as possible. And now that that’s resolved, we need to talk about hiring a new nanny.”
His head jerked up. “You’re really going?”
“I have to, Liam.” Bonnie finished her bottle, so Jenna put her up to her shoulder, using the action to avoid eye contact with him as she said the hardest thing. “And to be honest, I don’t think you’re comfortable with me here anymore. Not after...” She trailed off, unable to say the actual words.
“No one could do a better job with Bonnie,” he said, his voice rough.
She blinked back the emotion that threatened. “A good nanny will do fine, and you’ll be more at ease without me here. I’ll call an agency on Monday and set up some interviews.”
Not replying, he took Meg over to the play mat and gently set her down. “Listen, I’ll need to head into the hotel early tomorrow to help set up for the launch, and I’ll take my clothes and get ready there. Will you be all right if Dylan takes you?”
Jenna said a little prayer of thanks that he’d changed the subject. She might have lost the fight against tears had they talked about her leaving for much longer. “Tell him not to worry. I can catch a cab.”
“He’s already offered.” Liam shrugged and dug his hands deep into his pockets. “He’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Then thank you,” she said. “That would be nice. The babysitter will arrive at six, so that will be good timing.”
He started to leave, then turned back. “One other thing—I’ve arranged for a personal shopper to come out today with an assortment of dresses so you can choose one for the launch.”
She frowned, unsure where that was coming from—the idea of him providing her with clothes made her think of mistresses. Did he feel guilty about sleeping with her? Or was it some misguided thought about her needing fancy clothes because she’d been brought up in a palace? “You don’t need to buy me a dress, Liam.” She had a perfectly serviceable black dress she’d been intending to wear.
“Jenna,” he said, his gaze not wavering, “you’re part of the organizing team, so your outfit is Hawke’s Blooms’ responsibility.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re buying a dress for Danielle and the others?”
“They’ll all be wearing branded formal clothes, so people can seek them out and ask questions. So, yes, the company is clothing them for the night. And you as well.”
Her lungs deflated. That made sense. And...part of her wanted to wear something other than the black dress. Wanted Liam to notice her again, no matter how unwise that was.
“Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate it.”
He gave her a tight smile. “I’ll see you there.”
* * *
Clinging to Dylan’s arm, Jenna walked through the foyer of The Golden Palm, one of the most stylish hotels in L.A., and tried not to fidget with her masquerade mask. She hadn’t seen Liam since he’d left after breakfast this morning, and all her deportment lessons couldn’t save her, thanks to frustrating restlessness.
She’d chosen a silver dress with a fitted bodice and flowing skirt, but now she was wondering if it was the wrong choice. Perhaps she should have worn the satin yellow sheath with a split up the thigh that the personal shopper had recommended. The yellow dress had certainly been sexier—
“How are you doing, Princess?” Dylan whispered with a grin, interrupting her thoughts. Jenna had told him her secret on the ride over. Because he’d been kind to her as an employer, she wanted him to hear it from her. She trusted him, and she was going home soon.
She slapped his arm lightly. “It might be better if you don’t use that word.” She gestured to the throng of paparazzi clustered near the door up ahead, waiting for glimpses of celebrity guests.
He nodded his understanding and whispered, “I still can’t believe my floors were cleaned by a royal princess. And that time I asked you to—”
“Dylan,” she said firmly, “you gave me exactly what I needed at the time—a job and a home. You accepted me when I was pregnant, and you were a great boss. I honestly can’t thank you enough.”
Even though the photographers weren’t interested in her, and she was wearing a mask that covered the top half of her face, she still looked down as they passed them and casually covered her mouth and chin with her hand.
“Tell me something,” Dylan said as they entered the hotel foyer. “Is your new boss giving you what you need?” The mischief in his tone made the skin on the back of her neck prickle.
Unsure of where he was going with this, she chose her words with care. “Liam’s been good to me. And good to Meg. I can’t complain.”
“My mother thinks we might be welcoming you and Meg into the family soon. And just so you know,” he said conspiratorially, “I couldn’t be happier.”
A wave of sadness, of powerful longing, washed over her. She knew Liam had no intention of proposing to her, and even if he had, she didn’t have the freedom to simply accept. No matter how much she loved him, she had to do what she should have done from the beginning. Face the music.
She was going home as soon as she could find a new nanny for Bonnie, and as long as her parents didn’t try to separate her from Meg, she’d consent to whatever plan they thought best for the good of the country, the monarchy and her family. This time she’d do what she’d been raised to do—put duty first.
But Dylan didn’t know any of that. She hadn’t told him her family was unaware of her location, just that she’d been incognito and that he needed to keep the secret.
She waved her wrist in a gesture she hoped seemed casual. “There’s no chance of that happening, Dylan. I’ll be returning to Larsland soon. But, for what it’s worth,” she said, smiling up at him, “you’ll make a great brother-in-law to someone.”
As they approached the doors to the ballroom, a woman in a midnight blue dress handed Dylan a Phantom of the Opera style half-mask.
“Thank you,” Dylan said, slipping the elastic over his head. “How does it look?” he asked Jenna.
She grinned. “Stylish.”
As they pushed through the double doors, Jenna couldn’t hold back the gasp. The enormous room had been transformed into a night-time fairytale scene. A huge glowing moon hung in one corner, and shadowed clouds hovered in the air, suspended from the vast ceiling. Stars and constellations shone from above and from the walls, and occasionally a shooting star arced across the sky.
Tables set with crisp white tablecloths and covered in glassware, bordered the room. Huge stands of cascading flower arrangements, using a variety of white flowers, were artfully placed. Dylan and Jenna were a little early, so not many people had arrived yet, but a waiter glided over and offered them glasses of champagne. Dylan took one but Jenna shook her head. Her mother had never let them drink at official functions and the habit had stuck.
Dylan let out a low whistle. “Jenna, I think you may have just changed the way Hawke’s Blooms announces a new flower forever.”
“This wasn’t all me,” she protested. “Honestly, Danielle and the staff from your and Adam’s offices have done all of this. This is so much more than I imagined.”
“No,” he said, holding up a hand. “You were the spark. It was one hell of an idea.”
She gave him a gracious smile. “Thank you. I’m glad to have helped.”
From the corner of her eye she spotted a familiar figure and, without thought, she turned. Liam was on the other side of the room, not yet wearing his mask; he was deep in conversation with Danielle, but his gaze was locked on Jenna. The sparkling room faded and it was as if he was standing within touching distance. Her skin warmed, and her pulse was erratic. Liam said something to Danielle, who nodded and left, and he began to cross the room to them.
“Oh, yeah, nothing going on between you two at all,” said a voice beside her.
A dark frown crossed Liam’s face and his gaze shifted to his brother, the warning clear.
“So,” Dylan said when Liam reached them, “I was just leaving to investigate those ice sculptures. Lilies made of ice. Genius.” Then he darted off before either of them could say anything. Not that Jenna would have been able to—she’d lost her voice around the time she’d spotted Liam in a tuxedo. Possibly lost her mind at the same time.
He cleared his throat. “You look sensational.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek, lingering a little too long.
A ripple of heat ran across her skin, but she tried to ignore it. “Thank you for the dress. I love it.”
“It looks great on you,” he said, his eyes lingering as long as his kiss had. “Can I get you a glass of champagne? Or something else to drink?”
Her restless fingers needed something to do, so holding a drink was appealing, but she really shouldn’t have one. Instead, she smoothed a hand over her French twist. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
His gaze followed her hands to her hair, then back to her eyes. “How were Bonnie and Meg when you left?”