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Prince Nicky’s parentage?”
    Holly snapped her notebook shut and gave Nicole a look over her bifocals. “That’s generally considered the rudest question you can ask in these here parts. You want to get along with your new family, I wouldn’t bring it up. Ever.”
    â€œThanks for the advice.”
    The sunny smile returned. “All part of the service, darlin’.”

Chapter 23
    J effrey had spent the last two hours guarding Nicole’s closed bedroom door, then went to stroll the grounds on a break. And like a lovesick schoolboy, he was standing on the lawn beneath Nicole’s suite, staring up at the windows.
    Get it together, man.
    He’d had flings before. He’d even been in love before. But no one had ever made him feel like this. Hot and cold and urgent and lusty and protective and angry and happy all at once or one right after the other.
    It was . . . disconcerting.
    He doubted Nicole had a clue. He prayed she didn’t have a clue. It was too embarrassing, almost a cliché; he was not in a Whitney Houston movie, for the love of God. And he outweighed Kevin Costner by forty pounds.
    While he watched the window, he thought about the kiss. Thought about her scent—she smelled like the outdoors, fresh and cottony—and her sweetly yielding mouth. Thought about how he almost took her on the floor of her living room like a—like a—
    He tried to shake it off. Never had he been so easily distracted while on duty; it was shameful. He was doing her no good if all he could think about was how she looked without her—
    Now what the hell was this ?
    The darkened window was silently swinging open and he grabbed for his gun out of pure ingrained training. Which would have been fine if someone was going in .
    Instead, a lithe figure in dark clothes climbed out, hung from her hands by the sill, and dropped almost noiselessly to the roof of the pavilion. Swung over again, hung until her legs only dangled about four and a half feet above the ground, and dropped yet again. Then stood, looked around, and walked away without the slightest trace of a limp.
    He holstered his gun and nearly fell to his knees, his relief was so great. The twit could have broken every bone in her body! Talk about your personal and professional disasters. He could imagine the conversation: “My king, the first night I was in charge of Princess Nicole’s detail, she broke both her legs. Very sorry.”
    He stepped out of the shadows to intercept her. “Going somewhere, Your Highness?”
    â€œGaaaaah! Jeez! Don’t do that!”
    â€œSo very sorry, Your Highness.”
    â€œJeffrey, you bum, were you watching my window?”
    â€œOf course. You didn’t think we just hung around in doorways, did you?”
    Hands on her hips, she advanced on him. He wondered how heavily armed she was. “I just want to take a walk, get it? And I don’t want to bring the whole damn circus along, either.”
    â€œHow about just me, Your Highness?”
    She chewed on her lip, which made him want to chew on her lip, and finally said, “Well, I s’pose. Let’s hit the bricks.”
    â€œThank you, Highness.”
    â€œLike you wouldn’t rat me out if I didn’t let you tag along.”
    â€œSo astute, Your Highness.”
    â€œAnd that’s another thing. I s aw you yesterday. On your break.” They were walking across the vast lawn, staying out of the pools of brightness cast by the floodlights. “Doing the New York Times crossword.”
    She saw him? Well, that seemed fair, as he was acutely aware whenever she was within twenty yards of him. “Yes?”
    â€œIn ink.”
    â€œI was all out of chisels.”
    â€œBut I’ve seen footmen treat you like your knuckles drag on the ground when you walk.”
    â€œI know. Isn’t it splendid?”
    She stared at him, then laughed. “Ah. Ah-ha! I get it. Me big dumb