Christmas in His Royal Bed / Rossellini's Revenge Affair: Christmas in His Royal Bed / Rossellini's Revenge Affair

With his hand once again at the small of her back, he guided Alandra to the main stairwell, and they started slowly up the steps. She didn’t miss his continued attempts at familiarity. And while his fingertips warmed her through the material of her dress, sending tiny shocks of desire through her system, she had to wonder if it was merely the first phase of his orchestrated attempts at seduction.

Even if it was, it wouldn’t work.

She was stronger than that. Nicolas might be charming and gorgeous, his status as a prince alluring, but he had brought her here under false pretenses, and she was not going to be won over.

“So,” he began, his voice low and persuasive, “have you had a chance to look over the files I left in your room?”

He had, indeed. A pile of colored folders had been left on the desk, each summarizing a different Glendovian charity she assumed she would be working with if she decided to stay.

“I glanced at them,” she said.

“And…”

“You have some interesting organizations set up.”

“They’re not running as well as they should,” he said.

“I noticed.”

“Do you think you can fix them?”

That was the problem—she did. Even looking over the files for a few minutes before she’d started getting ready for dinner, she’d had a dozen ideas for improvements. Not to mention raising awareness and drawing in larger amounts of funding.

They were concepts she was excited about and eager to put into effect. But in order to do that, she would have to remain in Glendovia and fulfill the terms of her contract.

“I have some ideas,” she replied guardedly, as they turned down the hall that led to her suite.

“Excellent.” He waited a beat before continuing. “Does this mean you’ve decided to stay and work here?”

“I’ll stay,” she told him. “I’ll stay through the month, as agreed in the contract, and at the end of the month you’ll give me the bonus you promised.”

“Of course.”

He might have said more at that point, but she cut him off. “And no matter what your reason for bringing me here, no matter what you expected to happen, I will not be sleeping with you. You can cross that little item right off your Christmas wish list.”

At that, she turned the knob, spun on her heel and disappeared into the suite.

Five

The door to the library was open when Nicolas arrived. His mother was sitting in one of the armchairs before the fireplace, sipping a glass of sherry and staring at the flames leaping in the hearth. Closing the door behind him, he moved to the sideboard and poured himself a drink before joining her.

“You wanted to speak with me?” he asked, leaning back.

Typical of his mother, she got right to the point. “What is she doing here, Nicolas?”

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand the question. “As I told you at dinner, I hired her to help with our charities. She’s very good at what she does. I think she’ll be a boon to the organizations.”

“And that’s the only reason,” his mother said shortly, eyeing him over the rim of her glass. “Nothing else?”

He took a sip of his brandy. “What other reason would there be?”

“Come now, Nicolas. I may be your mother, and therefore not your first choice of confidante about your love life, but I’m well aware of your… leisure pursuits. Are you sure you didn’t bring her here to be your next conquest?”

While his personal relationships were no one’s concern but his own, it was hard—not to mention foolish—to tell the queen to mind her own business. Even if she was his mother.

So he did what he and his siblings had done many times while growing up. He looked her straight in the eye and lied.

“Of course not. I take my responsibilities to our country very seriously. As soon as I saw what Alandra had done with the event I attended in America, I knew she would be a great benefit to our own charitable causes.”

His mother narrowed her gaze momentarily, as though gauging the truthfulness of his statement. “I’m glad to hear that. You understand, I’m sure, that it wouldn’t do for your little associations to become public this close to announcing your engagement. We both know that you haven’t been celibate since you agreed to wed Princess Lisette, but it’s important that you keep up pretenses and do nothing to upset her or her family. This marriage will create a very important bond between her country and ours.”

A brief second passed, and when she spoke again, both her tone and expression were sharper. “We can’t jeopardize that association simply because you can’t keep your hands off some American commoner.”

Letting another swallow of brandy warm its way through his system, Nicolas consciously unclenched his jaw and forced himself to remain respectful.

“I know my duties, Mother. You needn’t worry about me causing any problems with Lisette. Alandra is a lovely woman, but she’s no threat to my engagement, believe me.”

“That’s good to hear. But just in case you change your mind, or Miss Sanchez suddenly begins to look like an amusing diversion while she’s visiting, I have something I think you should see.”

With that, she reached between the side of her chair and the cushion and removed a folded piece of paper. She handed it to Nicolas and then sat back, every inch the queen as she awaited his reaction.

Unfolding the page, he found himself staring at a printout of a newspaper article with Alandra’s picture. On either side of her photo were two others with jagged edges.

The headline accused Alandra of coming between the man and woman depicted, of being the ruin of a happy home and marriage. He scanned the write-up, which made Alandra sound like a selfish, devious trollop with no compunction about carrying on a torrid affair with a married father of two.

“She isn’t one of us, Nicolas,” his mother intoned. “She created a scandal in the States and brought shame upon her own family with her promiscuousness. We don’t need her here, doing the same to us.”

Nicolas tensed in response to both the content of the article and his mother’s high-handed warning, then relaxed. This revelation about Alandra surprised him, but didn’t concern him. And it certainly didn’t change his mind about wanting her in his bed, despite his mother’s cautionary warning.

“I appreciate your trepidation, Mother, but I think you’re making too much of Alandra’s visit. She’s only here for a month, and only to help with the charities. Nothing more.”

The queen arched a brow, but remained silent, making it clear she doubted his claims. But his life was still his own, and until he had actually taken his wedding vows with Princess Lisette, he owed no explanation to anyone.

Refolding the printout and slipping it into the front pocket of his jacket, he pushed himself to his feet and returned his empty glass to the sideboard before crossing to his mother’s chair and leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Good night, Mother. I’ll see you in the morning.”

* * *

Alandra was up early the next day, ready to get to work and start putting some of her strategies into action.

She also hoped to see more of the island and get away from Nicolas. He was dangerous to her peace of mind, and the less time they spent together during her stay, the better.

Carrying a briefcase stuffed with papers, she arrived in the dining room. The family was already gathered and eating. A plate was quickly set before her, and Alandra enjoyed her breakfast until the queen inquired about her plans for the day. Alandra still had the distinct feeling Nicolas’s mother didn’t like her.

“After studying the notes Nicolas gave me, I thought the local orphanage would be the best place to start,” she answered. “I’ve got an idea directly connected to the holidays that I think will be quite successful, but since Christmas is right around the corner, it’s important to get things moving as soon as possible.”

If the queen was pleased with Alandra’s response, she didn’t show it. Instead, Nicolas replied. “I’ll have a car brought around to take us to the children’s home,” he said, pushing back his chair and moving toward the dining room’s double doors.

“You’re…coming along?” Alandra asked, her words stumbling over themselves as her heart thudded. She really, really didn’t want to spend the day with him.

He stopped at the door and turned back to face her. “Of course.”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she tried to ignore the heat suddenly licking its way through her insides. “That isn’t necessary.”

“But it is,” he replied softly. “Glendovia’s national charities are my responsibility. I take that duty seriously and intend to work quite closely with you over the next month. I hope you don’t mind.”

He added the last, she was sure, for the benefit of his family, all of whom were watching and listening attentively. Because it was clear that even if she did mind—which she did—it would make absolutely no difference.

If they had been alone, she might have argued, but she certainly wasn’t going to put up a fuss in front of the royal family.

Forcing the words past her tight throat, she said, “No, I don’t mind at all.”

His lips curved in a smile that told her he knew exactly how much it had pained her to acquiesce. “I’ll meet you at the car, then,” he murmured, before walking out of the room.

Ten minutes later, they were seated in the back of a luxurious black sedan, driving away from the palace. According to the map of the island she’d studied the night before, the orphanage was nearby.

She was happy to simply gaze out the window at the passing scenery and mentally review what she hoped to accomplish at the children’s home. But she should have known Nicolas would never allow her to keep to herself for long.

“So tell me about this holiday idea you have for the orphanage. I’m surprised you’ve begun to devise a plan already, without even having visited.”

Keeping her fingers tightly wrapped around the folders on her lap, she tore her gaze away from the view and turned to face him.

“The files you supplied gave me a general impression of the home, and the type of event I have in mind is something I’ve been a part of before. It seems to go over well and is usually successful in getting the community involved.”

“Sounds promising,” he intoned. “What is it?”

“Basically, we throw a small party where Santa Claus visits the children and hands out gifts, and we invite the press and locals to attend. The goal is to draw attention to the orphanage, reminding people that the children are alone and in need not only over the holidays, but year-round.”

Nicolas nodded, his mouth pursed in thought. “Interesting. And who provides the presents for the children, given that your fund-raising efforts haven’t yet been put into effect?”

She smiled. “You do.”

He raised a brow, and she hurried to elaborate. “Or rather, the royal family does. We’ll be sure to mention that to the press, throwing your family into a very positive light. In fact, if this goes over as well as I think it will, you may want to consider sponsoring the event every year. Back home, we’ve made the visit from Santa an annual event, and it goes over extremely well.”

Inclining his head, he said, “I’m sure that’s something my family would be willing to consider.”

The car eased to a stop in front of the children’s home. A second later the driver came around to open Nicolas’s door. He stepped out, and a bevy of flashbulbs immediately began going off in his face.

Alandra had slid across the seat to exit behind him, but rather than reaching for his hand, which he held out to her, she lifted an arm to shield her eyes from the blinding onslaught.

“Who are all these people?” she called to him.

He leaned in a bit closer to keep from having to raise his voice. “Just members of the press you were speaking of. They tend to follow members of the royal family wherever we go.”

Reaching for her hand again, he said, “Come along. It’s time to go in, and you’ll get used to the attention.”

She wasn’t so sure of that. Where she had been happy a moment ago, and eager to get to work, she now dreaded having to step outside the vehicle into the crowd of photographers circling like vultures. She’d had quite enough of that back in Texas.

She’d come to Glendovia to get away from the media. Now here she was, smack in the middle of the frenzy once again.

Of course, she wasn’t the center of their attention this time, which she considered a blessing. But that didn’t mean she appreciated having her picture taken without her permission here any more than she had back home.

Drawing a breath, she pushed aside the anxieties swirling in her chest as best she could, then placed her hand in Nicolas’s and let him help her from the car.

She stared straight ahead, at the redbrick building they were about to enter. The fingers of her left hand tightened almost desperately on the handle of her briefcase, while she concentrated on keeping those of her right loose and relaxed. She didn’t want to give Nicolas a single sign of just how disturbed she was by the reporters crowding around, still snapping pictures and calling out to the prince.

Nicolas smiled and gave a polite wave, but otherwise ignored them as he led her forward. The sea of photographers parted at his approach, and finally they were inside.

Releasing her pent-up breath, she let go of his hand and stepped away, leaving a safer distance between them. When she lifted her gaze to his, she found him watching her, an amused glint in his eyes.

The move had been an act of self-preservation, and he knew it.

Dammit, he must sense that she was attracted to him, and he probably took it as a sign that he was that much closer to his objective: seducing her into his bed.

“Your Highness,” a voice called, and footsteps clacked as an older woman came forward to greet them.

She offered him a small curtsy and smiled at Alandra. “I’m Mrs. Vincenza, administrator of the children’s home. We’re delighted to have you visit us. I hope you’ll find everything to your liking, and we’ll happily do everything we can to help you with your efforts.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Vincenza,” Nicolas replied with a small bow. “This is Alandra Sanchez. She’ll be handling the fund-raising plans.”

“Where are the children?” Alandra asked, scanning the open space, with its center stairwell leading to the upper floor.

“The older ones are in school, of course, and the younger ones are upstairs in the nursery. Would you like to meet them?”

“I’d love to,” she answered.

She followed Mrs. Vincenza up to the second floor, with Nicolas behind them.

They toured the nursery, where Alandra played with the babies and toddlers for a bit, then met a few other members of the staff. From there, Mrs. Vincenza showed them the children’s bedrooms, dining hall, playroom and reception area.

The reception area, Alandra realized as soon as she saw it, would be the perfect place to set up the Santa Claus event. It was large enough for all the children, the media and any number of guests they might invite. There was even a lovely tree already set up and decorated in the far corner.

She jotted down notes as fast as she could, her mind racing ahead to everything that would need to be done. At the same time, she shared her plans with Mrs. Vincenza, whose eyes lit up at the prospect. Behind them, standing tall and straight in the doorway, Nicolas listened silently. Alandra as sumed that meant he approved of the project so far. She was certain he’d let her know if he objected to anything.

An hour later, she’d finalized the initial plans with the administrator and had a list of tasks to deal with herself. After thanking the woman for her time and enthusiasm, she and Nicolas made their way back outside, through the throng of reporters still hovering on the sidewalk, and into the backseat of the waiting car.

The vehicle had barely started rolling away from the curb before Nicolas faced her and asked, “How do you feel it went?”

“Very well,” she answered, flipping through the pages of her spiral pad and reviewing some of the notations she’d made. “Mrs. Vincenza is eager to help us because she knows it will ultimately help her, and even though there’s a lot of work to do, I think we’ve got enough time to set everything up so it goes smoothly.”

A small smile touched his lips. “I have to admit, I was quite impressed with what you said to her. You’re very good at describing your visions so that others can see them clearly.”

Her cheeks flushed with pleasure at his compliment and she nodded a silent thank-you.

“Allow me to buy you lunch at one of our local eateries to show my appreciation for all your hard work. We can discuss what else needs to be done to have everything ready by the week before Christmas.”

Although she was starting to feel hungry and certainly could have used a bite to eat, she didn’t think it was a good idea to spend any more time with him than absolutely necessary. It would be better to go back to the palace and ask for something to be sent to her rooms, where she could hide out and get some work done away from Nicolas.

Without meeting his gaze, she said, “Thank you, but no. I’d prefer to go back and get straight to work.”

His eyes narrowed slightly at her refusal, and she almost expected him to argue. But then he turned to look forward and said, “Very well. You should remember one thing, however.”

“What’s that?”

His eyes returned to hers, bright blue and blazing. “You can’t avoid me forever.”

Six

For the third time in ten minutes, Nicolas checked his watch. He was standing at the bottom of the main stairwell, awaiting Alandra’s arrival, while everyone else was gathered in the dining room, ready for dinner.

But the minutes continued to tick by, and still there was no sign of her.

Spotting a maid leaving the dining room, he motioned her over. “Would you please run up to Miss Sanchez’s room and find out why she’s running late for dinner?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but she called down earlier to make her excuses and ask for a tray to be brought to her room.”

“Is she ill?” he asked, his brows knitting with genuine concern.

“I’m not sure, sir. She didn’t say so.”

“Thank you,” he said, nodding to dismiss the maid.

As soon as the maid disappeared around the corner, he turned and started up the stairs. Minutes later, he was knocking on Alandra’s door.

He heard her call that she was coming, and then the door swung open. She was standing there in a short, turquoise-blue nightgown and a matching robe in some slinky material that made his mouth go instantly dry. Her hair was pulled up and twisted into a loose knot at the crown of her head.

Her lovely chocolate-brown eyes went wide with surprise for a second before narrowing with annoyance.

Noticing that his gaze was inexorably drawn to the shadowed valley between her breasts, she raised a hand to close the edges of her robe.

“May I help you?” she asked in a tone that surely wasn’t often directed toward someone of royal lineage.

Biting back his amusement, he kept a straight face and linked his hands behind him. “I heard you weren’t coming down to dinner and wanted to make sure you were feeling well. Is everything all right?”

Her expression softened at his inquiry. “I’m fine, thank you. I just decided to have my meal in my room so I could continue to work.”

“You’ve been working since we returned from the children’s home,” he said, more of a statement than a question.

“That is why you hired me,” she replied with a tiny smile.

Her grip on the front of her robe loosened and he caught another quick glimpse of cleavage. His body immediately went tight and hot.

Clearing his throat, he struggled to make his brain work past the thought of stripping her bare and having her writhing beneath him. When he couldn’t seem to manage that, he gave a curt nod and headed back the way he’d come.

It took him the full length of both hallways and the staircase to regain his reason and decide on a course of action.

First, he strode into the dining room, where the rest of the family had already been served, and told them he wouldn’t be sharing dinner with them. Then he went to the rear of the palace and entered the kitchens, asking that two trays be made up and taken to Alandra’s suite rather than only one.

He waited while that was done, and then accompanied the servant as the young man delivered the cart. Alandra answered the door when he knocked, a frown marring her brow when she noticed Nicolas trailing behind. To her credit, she held her tongue as the cart was wheeled into the center of the sitting room.

Glancing toward Nicolas, the servant waited to be told where they wished their meals to be served.

“That’s fine, Franc. I’ll take it from here. Thank you.”

The young man inclined his head and quickly made his way from the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Nicolas and Alandra alone.

Her gaze skated from the cart, with its silver-domed platters and bottle of wine, to him. “You’re not planning on eating with me?” she asked, not bothering with even a modicum of civility as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and tapped the red-tipped toes of one bare foot impatiently.

“We have a lot to do, as you’ve said, and I agree that taking dinner in your rooms is a good way to make rapid progress. We’ll eat on the balcony,” he added, pulling the cart out onto the terrace. “You’ll like it out there. Bring some of your files, if you like, and we can discuss them while we eat.”

She didn’t say anything, but he wouldn’t have stopped if she had. Giving her the chance to respond was only inviting a refusal, and he had no intention of being put off.

She followed him to the French doors, still without uttering a word, but stopped before actually stepping onto the balcony.

It was still light outside, edging into dusk, and the bright shades of sunset could be seen on the far horizon. The temperature, normally quite comfortable at this time of year, was even warmer than usual, giving him no qualms about inviting her out in little more than a thin slip of satiny material.

And if she got cold…well, he could think of several ways to heat things up quickly enough.

He moved to the round, glass-topped table outside, and pretended not to be watching her as he transferred their dinner from the cart. In reality, however, he kept track of her in his peripheral view. He saw her fingers twisting nervously on the frame of the open double doors, and her bare toes curling on the threshold rather than taking the step that would bring her out onto the balcony.

“Maybe I should change,” she said in a soft voice.

Though he was careful not to let it show, he felt a flash of triumph. She had apparently accepted that arguing or asking him to leave was futile. He was here for dinner, and he meant to stay.

Raising his head, he once again looked directly at her. He wanted her sitting across from him just like that, with her legs bare and the turquoise fabric bringing out the sparkle in her dark eyes.

“What you’re wearing is fine,” he replied. “This is a casual meal, and we’ll be talking about the charities most of the time. In fact, I’ll join you in getting more comfortable.”

Shrugging out of his suit jacket, he hung it neatly over the back of his chair, removed his tie and rolled up his shirtsleeves. “How’s that?” he asked, giving her a moment to study his appearance. “I can remove more of my clothing if you like, but I have a feeling you would consider that a bit too casual. Am I right?”

He cocked a brow, silently challenging her to deny it. If he had his way, they would both be naked before the night was over.

For a second, she returned his look with a steady, rebellious one of her own, then spun around and disappeared into the bedroom.