‘Madam…’ The security officer touched his watch, indicating that it was time to leave.

She gave the crowd a final wave and smile and turned back to the limousine, stepped inside. The door closed behind her and, within moments, she was gliding through London behind a liveried chauffeur.

At which point she bit back a giggle.

This wasn’t like any other job. No way. At this point, if it had been an ordinary job, she’d be heading for the hotel cloakroom for a quick change before catching the bendy bus back to work. Instead, she was in a top-of-the-range Mercedes, heading for an airfield used by people for whom the private jet was the only way to travel. The final hurdle before she could relax and enjoy being Lady Rose without the risk of someone taking a second look and challenging her.

It was a thought to bring the giggle under control. Not the fear of being challenged. The thought of getting in a plane.

Kal paced the VIP lounge, certain that he was wasting his time.

Lucy was wrong. Playing nanny to a woman known to the world as ‘England’s Sweetheart’, or ‘angel’ or even ‘virgin’, for heaven’s sake, wasn’t going to make him any friends in the Ramal Hamrahn court. Unless there really was an attempt on her life and he saved her. Maybe he should arrange one…

He stopped fantasising and checked the time.

Another minute and she’d be late. No more than he’d expected. She was probably still posing for photographs, being feted by her fans.

He’d seen her on the news-she was impossible to avoid-a pale, spun-sugar confection, all sweetness and light. He knew she was a friend of Lucy’s but, really, could anyone be that perfect?

He was about to pick up a newspaper, settle down to wait, when a stir at the entrance alerted him to her arrival. That she had arrived exactly on schedule should have been a point in her favour. It only served to irritate him further.