Christmas with the Prince

“It’s Tuesday. Five o’clock.”

“P.M.?”

“Yes. In fact, dinner is at seven.”

She nodded, but still looked slightly confused.

“Out of curiosity, when was the last time you slept?”

She scrunched her face again, studied her watch for a second, then shrugged and said, “I’m not sure. Twenty hours at least. Probably more.”

“You must be exhausted.”

“I’m used to it. I keep long hours in the lab.”

Twenty hours was an awfully long time, even for a workaholic, and he’d traveled often enough to know what jet lag could do to a person. Especially someone unaccustomed to long plane trips. “Maybe before you tackle unpacking the lab you should at least take a nap.”

“I’m fine, really. Although, I guess I wouldn’t mind a quick change of clothes.”

“Why don’t I show you to your room.”

She looked longingly at all of the shiny new equipment, then nodded and said, “All right.”

He switched off the lights and shut the door, hearing it lock automatically behind him.

“Will I get my own code?” she asked.

“Of course. You’ll have full access to whatever and wherever you need.”

He led Liv back through the kitchen and up the stairs to the third floor, to the guest rooms. She looked a bit lost when they finally reached her door.

“The castle is so big and confusing,” she said.

“It’s not so bad once you learn your way around.”

“I don’t exactly have a great sense of direction. Don’t be surprised if you find me aimlessly wandering the halls.”

“I’ll have Derek print you up a map.” He opened her door and gestured her in.

“It’s beautiful,” she said in that soft, breathy voice. “So pretty.”

Far too feminine and fluffy for his taste, with its flowered walls and frilly drapes, but their female guests seemed to appreciate it. Although he never would have pegged Liv as the girly-girl type. She was just too…analytical. Too practical. On the surface anyhow.

“The bathroom and closet are that way,” he said, gesturing to the door across the room. But Liv’s attention was on the bed.

“It looks so comfortable.” She crossed the room to it and ran one hand over the flowered duvet. “So soft.”

She was a tactile sort of woman. Always stroking and touching things. And he couldn’t help but wonder how those hands would feel touching him.

“Why don’t you take it for a spin,” he said. “The lab can wait.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t,” she protested, but she was already kicking off her shoes and crawling on top of the covers. She settled back against the pillows and sighed blissfully. Her eyes slipped closed. “Oh, this is heavenly.”

He hadn’t actually meant right that second. The average guest would have waited until he’d left the room, not flop down into bed right in front of him. But he could see that there was nothing average about Olivia Montgomery.

At least she hadn’t undressed first. Not that he wasn’t curious to see what she was hiding under those clothes. He was beginning to think there was much more to Liv than she let show.

“You’ll find your bags in the closet. Are you sure you wouldn’t like a maid to unpack for you?”

“I can do it,” she said, her voice soft and sleepy.

“If you change your mind, let me know. Other than that, you should have everything you need. There are fresh towels and linens in the bathroom. As well as toiletries. If you need anything else, day or night, just pick up the phone. The kitchen is always open. You’re also welcome to use the exercise room or game room, day or night. We want you to feel completely comfortable here.”

He walked to the window and pushed the curtain aside, letting in a shaft of late-afternoon sunshine. “You have quite a lovely view of the ocean and the gardens from here. Although there isn’t much to see in the gardens this time of year. We could take a walk out there tomorrow.”

Or not, he thought, when she didn’t answer him. Then he heard a soft rumbling sound from the vicinity of the bed.

She had turned on her side and lay all curled up in a ball, hugging the pillow. He walked over to the bed and realized that she was sound asleep.

“Liv,” he called softly, but she didn’t budge. Apparently she was more tired than she’d realized.

He found a spare blanket in the closet, noticing her luggage while he was in there, and the conspicuously small amount of it. Just two average-size bags that had seen better days. The typical female guest, especially one there for an extended stay, brought a whole slew of bags.

He reminded himself once again that Liv was not the typical royal guest. And, he was a little surprised to realize, he liked that about her. It might very well be a refreshing change.

He walked back to the bed and covered her with the blanket, then, for reasons he couldn’t begin to understand, felt compelled to just look at her for a moment. The angles of her face softened when she slept, making her appear young and vulnerable.

She’s not your type, he reminded himself.

If he was going to be honest with himself, his “type” had plenty to offer physically, but intellectually, he was usually left feeling bored and unfulfilled. Maybe it was time for a change of pace.

Seducing a woman like Liv might be just what he needed to spice things up.

Chapter Three

It was official. Liv was lost.

She stood in an unfamiliar hallway on what she was pretty sure was the second floor, looking for the staircase that would lead her down to the kitchen. She’d been up and down two separate sets of stairs already this morning, and had wandered through a dozen different hallways. Either there were two identical paintings of the same stodgy-looking old man in a military uniform, or she’d been in this particular hallway more than once.

She looked up one end to the other, hopelessly turned around, wondering which direction she should take. She felt limp with hunger, and the backpack full of books and papers hung like a dead weight off one shoulder. If she didn’t eat soon, her blood sugar was going to dip into the critical zone.

She did a very scientific, eenie-meenie-minie-moe, then went left around the corner and plowed face-first into a petite, red-haired maid carrying a pile of clean linens. The force of the collision knocked her off balance and the linens fell to the carpet.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” Liv crouched down to pick them up. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“It’s no problem, miss,” the maid said in a charming Irish brogue, kneeling down to help. “You must be our scientist from the States. Miss Montgomery?”

Liv piled the last slightly disheveled sheet in her arms and they both stood. “Yes, I am.”

The maid looked her up and down. “Well, you don’t much look like a scientist.”

“Yeah, I hear that a lot.” And she was always tempted to ask what she did look like, but she was a little afraid of the answer she might get.

“I’m Elise,” the maid said. “If you need anything at all, I’m the one to be asking.”

“Could you tell me where to find the kitchen? I’m starving.”

“Of course, miss. Follow this hallway down and make a left. The stairs will be on your right, about halfway down the hall. Take them down one flight, then turn right. The kitchen is just down the way.”

“A left and two rights. Got it.”

Elise smiled. “Enjoy your stay, miss.”

She disappeared in the direction Liv had just come from. Liv followed her directions and actually found the kitchen, running into—although not literally this time—Prince Aaron’s assistant just outside the door.

“Off to work already?” he asked.

“Looking for food actually. I missed dinner last night.”

“Why don’t you join the prince in the family dining room.”

“Okay.” She could spend another twenty minutes or so looking for the dining room, and possibly collapse from hunger, or ask for directions. “Could you show me where it is?”

He smiled and gestured in the opposite direction from the kitchen. “Right this way.”

It was just around the corner. A surprisingly small but luxurious space with French doors overlooking the grounds. A thick blanket of leaves in brilliant red, orange and yellow carpeted the expansive lawn and the sky was a striking shade of pink as the sun rose above the horizon.

At one end of a long, rectangular cherry table, leaning casually in a chair with a newspaper propped beside him, sat Prince Aaron. He looked up when they entered the room, then rose to his feet.

“Well, good morning,” he said with a smile, and her stomach suddenly bound up into a nervous knot.

“Shall I take your bag?” Derek asked her.

Liv shook her head. That backpack had all of her research. She never trusted it to anyone else. “I’ve got it, thanks.”

“Well, then, enjoy your breakfast,” Derek said, leaving her alone with the prince. Just the two of them.

Only then did it occur to her that she might have been better off eating alone. What would they say to each other? What could they possibly have in common? A prince and an orphan?

The prince, on the other hand, looked completely at ease. In jeans and a flannel shirt he was dressed much more casually than the day before. He looked so…normal. Almost out of place in the elegant room.

He pulled out the chair beside his own. “Have a seat.”

As she sat, she found herself enveloped in the subtle, spicy scent of his aftershave. She tried to recall if William, her possibly-soon-to-be fiancé, wore aftershave or cologne. If he had, she’d never noticed.

The prince’s fingers brushed the backs of her shoulders as he eased her chair in and she nearly jolted against the sudden and intense zing of awareness.

He was touching her.

Get a grip, Liv. It wasn’t like he was coming on to her. He was being polite and she was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. Even when she was a schoolgirl she had never acted this way. She’d been above the temptation that had gotten so many other girls from high school in trouble. Or as her last foster mom, Marsha, used to put it, in the family way.

Then the prince placed both hands on her shoulders and her breath caught in her lungs.

His hands felt big and solid and warm. You are not going to blush, she told herself, but already she could feel a rush of color searing her cheeks, which only multiplied her embarrassment.

It was nothing more than a friendly gesture, and here she was having a hot flash. Could this be any more humiliating?

“Do you prefer coffee or tea?” he asked.

“Coffee, please,” she said, but it came out high and squeaky.

He leaned past her to reach for the carafe on the table, and as he did, the back of her head bumped the wall of his chest. She was sure it was just her imagination, but she swore she felt his body heat, heard the steady thump of his heart beating. Her own heart was hammering so hard that it felt as though it would beat its way out of her chest.

Shouldn’t a servant be doing that? she wondered as he poured her a cup and slid it in front of her. Then he finally backed away and returned to his chair, resuming the same casual, relaxed stance—and she took her first full breath since she’d sat down.

“Would you care for breakfast?” he asked.

“Please,” she said, though her throat was so tight, she could barely get air to pass through, much less food. But if she didn’t eat something soon, she would go into hypoglycemic shock. She just hoped she didn’t humiliate herself further. She was so used to eating at her desk in the lab, or in a rush over the kitchen sink, she was a little rusty when it came to the rules of etiquette. What if she used the wrong fork, or chewed with her mouth open?

He rang a bell, and within seconds a man dressed in characteristic butler apparel seemed to materialize from thin air.

“Breakfast for our guest, Geoffrey,” he said.

Geoffrey nodded and slipped away as stealthily as he’d emerged.

Liv folded her hands in her lap and, because most of her time was spent huddled over her laptop or a microscope, reminded herself to sit up straight.

“I trust you slept well,” the prince said.

She nodded. “I woke at seven thinking it was last night, then I looked outside and noticed that the sun was on the wrong side of the horizon.”

“I guess you were more tired than you thought.”

“I guess so. But I’m anxious to get down to the lab. You said I’ll get a password for the door?”

“Yes, in fact…” He pulled a slip of paper from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. As she took it, she felt lingering traces of heat from his body and her cheeks flushed deeper red.

She unfolded the paper and looked at the code—a simple seven-digit number—then handed it back to him.

“Don’t you want to memorize it?” he asked.

“I just did.”

His eyes widened with surprise, and he folded the paper and put it back in his pocket. “Your ID badge will be ready this morning. You’ll want to wear it all the time, so you’re not stopped by security. It will grant you full access to the castle, with the exception of the royal family’s quarters of course, and any of our agricultural facilities or fields.”

“You mentioned something about a map of the castle,” she said, too embarrassed to admit that she’d actually gotten lost on her way to breakfast.

“Of course. I’ll have Derek print one up for you.”

“Thank you.”

“So,” Prince Aaron said, lounging back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. “Tell me about yourself. About your family.”

“Oh, I don’t have any family.”

Confusion wrinkled his brow. “Everyone has family.”

“I’m an orphan. I was raised in the New York foster care system.”

His expression sobered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

She shrugged. “No reason to be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

“Do you mind my asking what happened to your parents?”

It’s not like her past was some big secret. She had always embraced who she was, and where she came from. “No, I don’t mind. My mom died a long time ago. She was a drug addict. Social services took me away from her when I was three.”

“What about your father?”

“I don’t have one.”

At the subtle lift of his brow, she realized how odd that sounded, like she was the product of a virgin birth or something. When the more likely scenario was that her mother had been turning tricks for drug money, and whoever the man was, he probably had no idea he’d fathered a child. And probably wouldn’t care if he did know.

She told the prince, “Of course someone was my father. He just wasn’t listed on my birth certificate.”

“No grandparents? Aunts or uncles?”

She shrugged again. “Maybe. Somewhere. No one ever came forward to claim me.”

“Have you ever tried to find them?”

“I figure if they didn’t want me back then, they wouldn’t want me now, either.”

He frowned, as though he found the idea disturbing.

“It’s really not a big deal,” she assured him. “I mean, it’s just the way it’s always been. I learned to fend for myself.”

“But you did have a foster family.”

“Families,” she corrected. “I had twelve of them.”

His eyes widened. “Twelve? Why so many?”

“I was…difficult.”

A grin ticked at the corner of his mouth. “Difficult?”

“I was very independent.” And maybe a little arrogant. None of her foster parents seemed to appreciate a child who was smarter than them and not afraid to say so, and one who had little interest in following their rules. “I was emancipated when I was fifteen.”

“You were on your own at fifteen?”

She nodded. “Right after I graduated from high school.”

He frowned and shook his head, as if it was a difficult concept for him to grasp. “Forgive me for asking, but how does an orphan become a botanical geneticist?”

“A lot of hard work. I had some awesome teachers who really encouraged me in high school. Then I got college scholarships and grants. And I had a mentor.” One she might actually be marrying, but she left that part out. And that was a big might. William had never given her this breathless, squishy-kneed feeling when he touched her. She never felt much of anything beyond comfortable companionship.

But wasn’t that more important than sexual attraction? Although if she really wanted to marry William, would she be spending so much time talking herself into it?

The butler reappeared with a plate that was all but overflowing with food. Plump sausages and eggs over easy, waffles topped with cream and fresh fruit and flaky croissants with a dish of fresh jam. The scents had her stomach rumbling and her mouth watering. “It looks delicious. Thank you.”

He nodded and left. Not a very talkative fellow.

“Aren’t you eating?” she asked Prince Aaron.

“I already ate, but please, go ahead. You must be famished.”

Starving. And oddly enough, the prince had managed to put her totally at ease, just as he’d done the night before. He was just so laid-back and casual. So…nice. Unlike most men, he didn’t seem to be put off or intimidated by her intelligence. And when he asked a question, he wasn’t just asking to be polite. He really listened, his eyes never straying from hers while she spoke. She wasn’t used to talking about herself, but he seemed genuinely interested in learning more about her. Unlike the scientists and scholars who were usually too wrapped up in their research to show any interest in learning about who she was as a person.

It was a nice change of pace.

The prince’s cell phone rang and he unclipped it from his belt to look at the display. Concern flashed across his face. “I’m sorry. I have to take this,” he said, rising to his feet. “Please excuse me.”

She watched him walk briskly from the room and realized she was actually sorry to see him go. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d had a conversation with a man who hadn’t revolved in some way around her research, or funding. Not even William engaged in social dialogue very often. It was nice to just talk to someone for a change. Someone who really listened. Or maybe spending time with the prince was a bad idea. She’d been here less than a day and already she was nursing a pretty serious crush.

Chapter Four

“Any news?” Aaron asked when he answered his brother’s call.

“We have results back from Father’s heart function test,” Christian told him.

Aaron’s own heart seemed to seize in his chest. Their father, the king, had been hooked to a portable heart pump four months ago after the last of a series of damaging attacks. The procedure was still in the experimental stages and carried risks, but the doctors were hopeful that it would give his heart a chance to heal from years of heart disease damage.

It was their last hope.

Aaron had wanted to accompany his family to England, but his father had insisted he stay behind to greet Miss Montgomery. For the good of the country, he’d said. Knowing he’d been right, Aaron hadn’t argued.

Duty first, that was their motto.

“Has there been any improvement?” Aaron asked his brother, not sure if he was ready to hear the answer.

“He’s gone from twenty percent heart capacity to thirty-five percent.”

“So it’s working?”

“Even better than they expected. The doctors are cautiously optimistic.”

“That’s fantastic!” Aaron felt as though every muscle in his body simultaneously sighed with relief. As a child he had been labeled the easygoing one. Nothing ever bothered Aaron, his parents liked to brag. He was like Teflon. Trouble hit the surface, then slid off without sticking. But he wasn’t nearly as impervious to stress as everyone liked to believe. He internalized everything, let it eat away at him. Especially lately, with not only their father’s health, but also the diseased crops, and the mysterious, threatening e-mails that had been sporadically showing up in his and his siblings’ in-boxes from a fellow who referred to himself, of all things, as the Gingerbread Man. He had not only harassed them through e-mail, but also managed to breach security and trespass on the castle grounds, slipping in and out like a ghost despite added security.

There had been times lately when Aaron felt he was days away from a mandatory trip to the rubber room.

But his father’s health was now one concern he could safely, if only temporarily, put aside.

“How much longer do they think he’ll be on the pump?” he asked his brother.

“At least another four months. Although probably longer. They’ll retest him in the spring.”

Aaron had been hoping sooner. On the pump he was susceptible to blood clots and strokes and in rare cases, life-threatening infections. “How is he doing?”

“They had to remove the pump to test his heart and there were minor complications when they reinserted it. Something about scar tissue. He’s fine now, but he’s still in recovery. They want to keep him here an extra few days. Probably middle of next week. Just to be safe.”

As much as Aaron wanted to see his father home, the hospital was the best place for him now. “Is Mother staying with him?”

“Of course. She hasn’t left his side. Melissa, the girls and I will be returning Friday as planned.”

The girls being Louisa and Anne, their twin sisters, and Melissa, Chris’s wife of only four months. In fact, it was on their wedding night that the king had the attack that necessitated the immediate intervention of the heart pump. Though it was in no way Chris and Melissa’s fault, they still felt responsible for his sudden downturn.

“Now that Father is improving, maybe it’s time you and Melissa rescheduled your honeymoon,” Aaron told him.

“Not until he’s off the pump altogether,” Chris insisted, which didn’t surprise Aaron. Chris had always been the responsible sibling. Of course, as crown prince, slacking off had never been an option. But while some people may have resented having their entire life dictated for them, Chris embraced his position. If he felt restricted by his duties, he never said so.

Aaron wished he could say the same.

“Did Miss Montgomery arrive safely?” Chris asked.

“She did. Although her flight was delayed by weather.”

“What was your first impression of her?”

He almost told his brother that she was very cute. And despite what she’d told him, he couldn’t imagine her as ever being difficult. She was so quiet and unassuming. But he didn’t think that was the sort of impression Chris was asking for. “She seems very capable.”

“Her references all checked out? Her background investigation was clean?”

Did he honestly think Aaron would have hired her otherwise? But he bit back the snarky comment on the tip of his tongue. Until their father was well, Chris was in charge, and that position deserved the same respect Aaron would have shown the king.

“Squeaky-clean,” Aaron assured his brother. “And after meeting her, I feel confident she’ll find a cure.”

“Everyone will be relieved to hear that. I think we should—” There was commotion in the background, then Aaron heard his sister-in-law’s voice, followed by a short, muted conversation, as though his brother had put a hand over the phone.

“Is everything okay, Chris?”

“Yes, sorry,” Chris said, coming back on the line. “I have to go. They’re wheeling Father back to his room. I’ll call you later.”

“Send everyone my love,” Aaron told him, then disconnected, wishing he could be there with his family. But someone needed to stay behind and hold the fort.

He hooked his phone on his belt and walked back to the dining room. Liv was still there eating her breakfast. She had wiped out everything but half of a croissant, which she was slathering with jam. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a woman polish off such a hearty meal. Especially a woman so slim and fit.