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or less like Sabrina imagined the upper crust would be.  The men were in narrow fitted Italian designer suits, the women in dresses with scoop necks or spaghetti straps, deep décolletage or slits up the sides and not that different from the one she was wearing.  The girls were right.  Her old sundress would have been out of place.
    She was just beginning to relax when she saw the prince look up and drop his jaw when he saw her coming down the stairs.  The expression of shock and disapproval on his face was unmistakable.  Now what was wrong?  The dress?  The girls?  A nanny in the wrong place at the wrong time?  Or was he disturbed by the state of his banking affairs and not her?
    A servant handed her a glass of some sparkling drink as soon as she set foot on the terracotta floor.  In a flash the prince had marched across the floor and was at her side.
    “For God’s sake, where did you get that dress,” he demanded.

Chapter Three
     
    His eyes glittered with barely suppressed anger, his mouth so tight he could barely get the words out.  He looked at the twins standing a few feet away, who were looking wide-eyed and innocent. He spoke to them sharply in Italian.  They shook their heads, shrugged their little shoulders and talked back to their father a mile a minute while gesturing.  No doubt explaining she was woefully ill-prepared for the social life in a villa on Lake Como.  Or was it all about this dress?
    “I really don’t have anything appropriate for a dinner like this,” Sabrina said. “So I borrowed this from…well, the girls suggested it.I hope it’s all right.”  From the look on his face it was far from all right.
    “No, it isn’t.”
    “I’m sorry.  I’ll change.”  Into what, she didn’t know.  But all she could do was to offer.
    “You will do no such thing.  This is the first dinner party I have had in years.  And you appear in that dress.  We will have to do something about your wardrobe if you are to stay.  For now you will remain right here now and meet the guests and act as though nothing is wrong.”  With that he took her arm and held it a little too tightly as he introduced her to a number of men and women as the new nanny.  As soon as they heard she was American, everyone very kindly spoke English.  If it weren’t for the prince glaring at her, she might have almost enjoyed the occasion just for the novelty of mixing with the rich and well-born Italians.
    Now she wondered if not only had she worn the wrong dress, maybe she was supposed to stay in the background, as befitting a member of the staff, but he’s the one who was escorting her through the crowd.
     She looked for the girls to quiz them about it but they were gobbling boccincini appetizers from a silver platter on the other side of the room.
    No matter where he was in the room, or who he was talking to, the prince kept his eyes on her, or on her dress.  Every time she glanced at him, their eyes locked and she felt a chill go up her spine.  If he thought the pressure would force her to quit her job as other nannies had, he didn’t know her or how much she wanted to stay.  Except for the prince himself, everything was better than she’d imagined – the spectacular setting, her quarters, the view, the girls and this beautiful villa.
    It would take more than his anger to scare her off, and more than an inadequate wardrobe.  If dinner parties were rare around here, she wouldn’t need any fancy dresses.  How many nannies attended this type of party?  Not many, she was sure.  She looked around the room, wondering which of the stylish women here was his fiancée.  Was it the blond with the diamond necklace?  The flirtatious woman on his left?  If she was here wouldn’t he be watching her instead of Sabrina?
    When she asked the girls which one she was, they said in unison, “She’s not here.”  Then they smiled.  From growing up with twin sisters, Sabrina instantly recognized the smiles.