Her Christmas Prince

A petite young woman in the uniform of the palace’s household staff stood on the other side.

“Miss,” she said, bobbing a slight curtsy. “Prince Nicolas sends this message and requests an immediate response.” She held out a square envelope.

It was Nicolas’s official stationery, Alandra saw, with her name scrawled in his expansive script across the front, and a dab of wax sealant pressed to the back.

Whatever was inside, she suspected, was either very important or very private.

Running a finger under the flap of the envelope, she broke the seal and removed the folded sheet of paper.

Alandra—

Your presence is required at a very important meeting concerning Dream a Little Dream. We fly to the other side of the island tomorrow morning. Pack for at least one night. Be ready to leave at 7:00 a.m. Nicolas

She wasn’t sure exactly what response he was awaiting, since he didn’t seem to be giving her much choice in the matter. He hadn’t asked if she wanted to go or would be willing to go, or was even able to go…he’d simply told her to be ready.

Refolding the note, she stuffed it back in the envelope before returning her attention to the servant. “Tell the prince I’ll be in the main foyer by seven o’clock. Thank you.”

The woman nodded and hurried off, ostensibly to deliver the message. More like announce Alandra’s compliance, she thought crossly as she shut the door and headed back to the bedroom.

Though she wasn’t particularly happy about this new development, she dragged an overnight bag from one of the closets and began to pack.

By the time she’d finished, she was truly exhausted. Climbing into bed, she hoped for a good night’s sleep.

She would need all the rest she could get if she was going to be alone with Nicolas—away from the palace. Overnight.

She met Nicolas outside the palace at exactly 7:00 a.m. The entire place, inside and out, was decorated to the nines in anticipation of the Christmas Eve party the royal family was hosting in only two days’ time.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning.”

“I’m glad you were able to accompany me to this meeting,” he told her once they were inside the car and heading down the driveway.

“I didn’t have much choice in the matter, did I?” she replied, avoiding his gaze by staring out the window.

“You always have a choice.”

She turned her head, meeting his blue eyes. “Well, your note didn’t seem to ask if I’d like to go with you.”

“I was afraid that if I did ask, you would have said no,” he confessed.

“Of course I wouldn’t have said no. As long as this meeting actually does concern the Dream a Little Dream Foundation. Or did you just say that to get me alone and away from the palace for a few days?” she asked quietly.

A moment passed before he responded. “This trip is about the foundation, and though I could probably handle things well enough on my own, I think it’s important that you’re there. I think you’ll be glad you came.”

He paused again, letting the silence fill with tension as his sharp gaze bored into hers. “But I’m also quite happy to get you away from the palace and to myself. I think you’ll be glad for that, too—eventually.”

His voice lowered to a warm, honeyed tone, and it took all of Alandra’s willpower not to suck in a deep breath of air to replace what had gotten stuck in her throat.

She should be angry. He was manipulating her again, moving her how and where he wanted her in an effort to change her mind about sleeping with him.

One thing could be said for Nicolas Braedon—he knew what he wanted and didn’t take no for an answer.

She didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself, but the truth was his single-minded determination to seduce her made her feel…special.

It wasn’t her intention to play with him, to turn this…whatever it was between them…into a game, but she suddenly realized she was enjoying herself. She enjoyed knowing that he wanted her.

Instead of arguing or giving in too soon, she merely shrugged and said, “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

The flight to the other side of the island was a short one, and they went straight from the small private airstrip to the office where the meeting was scheduled.

Alandra was stunned to learn that they weren’t simply meeting with a few people about establishing the new foundation, but were meeting with many people to actually get the organization up and running.

As the morning meetings progressed, she realized Nicolas had been right. She was glad she’d come along.

She was also thrilled with the amount of progress they were making in such a short time. Over a working lunch she met wonderfully enthusiastic people raring to get started. She had no doubt they would do an excellent job of running the organization, whether she was there or not.

She and the prince said goodbye to the future Dream a Little Dream staff at five, and Nicolas instructed his driver to take them to a hotel where the royal family kept a suite of rooms.

Alandra wasn’t taken aback, and she wasn’t upset. In fact, she belatedly realized she’d expected as much. After her little revelation in the car on the way to the airport that morning, she even found herself looking forward to what the evening might bring.

The royal suite was gorgeous. Nicer, even, than her rooms at the palace.

The walls, carpeting and drapes were all done in varying shades of blue, with touches of white and tan. A set of dark mahogany French doors opened onto a small lanai overlooking the city and the coastline beyond. One of the doors was open, allowing a cool breeze to ruffle the long, diaphanous curtains, bringing in the salty scent of the sea.

“Are you hungry?” Nicolas asked, stepping to a desk that held a thick, black binder of hotel amenities.

She nodded, moving slowly in his direction as she continued to take in her surroundings. She wondered if she should bother unpacking, or simply live out of her overnight bag.

“I’ll have something brought up,” he said, flipping through the room service menu and then calling down to order what sounded like a veritable buffet of appetizers and entrées. Before hanging up, he asked for a bottle of their best wine, and strawberries with fresh whipped cream for dessert.

“We have about thirty minutes before the food arrives.” Loosening his tie and shrugging out of his suit jacket, he draped both over the back of a chair as he crossed the room. “Would you care to change into something a bit more comfortable before it gets here?”

His gaze raked her from head to toe, raising gooseflesh every inch of the way.

She knew when to admit defeat—and when to enjoy a very handsome man who was more than willing to pleasure and worship her, if only for a short while.

“Do you have any special requests?” she asked, slowly removing her watch, and then her earrings. Next she raised a hand to the top button of her blouse, slipping it through its hole.

His eyes followed her actions intently, glittering with longing and sending sparks of awareness through her.

“Naked works for me,” he murmured, his voice gravelly with desire.

She chuckled, feeling a thrill of empowerment swelling in her veins. “Not just yet, I don’t think,” she said, turning on her heel and heading for the bedroom. “I wouldn’t want to shock the waiter when he arrives.”

“If he sees you naked, I could have him killed.”

She laughed again, facing him with her hands on the knobs of the double bedroom doors.

“Let’s not turn this trip into a crime spree just yet. Not if we can help it,” she told him as she swung the doors closed. “I’ll see what I can come up with on my own.”

She stayed in the bedroom until she’d heard the room service waiter deliver dinner and leave again.

Opening one door a crack, she saw Nicolas standing before the round table on one side of the sitting area. It had been set with an array of dishes and stemware.

Stepping the rest of the way into the room, she paused and waited for him to notice her. When he did, his hand froze on the silver serving lid he’d been about to raise, and his gaze zeroed in on her like a heat-seeking missile.

She’d changed into a long black nightgown with spaghetti straps and lace-lined slits running from ankle to midthigh on each side. Her feet were bare, her red-tipped toes peeking out from beneath the hem of the nightie, and she’d combed her hair out to fall in a straight, silky curtain around her shoulders. The look on Nicolas’s face told her how completely he appreciated her efforts.

“It’s not naked, but I hope you approve.”

He swallowed hard. “Very much so. I didn’t think it was possible, but that gown may just be better than full nudity.”

An amused smile tugged at her lips. “I’m glad you said something. Now I know not to take it off, no matter how much you beg.”

“Princes don’t beg,” he informed her, stalking slowly toward her.

“No?” she asked, her mouth going suddenly dry.

“No.”

He was standing in front of her now, close enough to touch, but keeping his arms at his sides. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she had to fight the urge to wiggle nervously.

“What do princes do, then?” she asked, her voice husky with growing pleasure.

Reaching out, he stroked the back of his fingers across her cheek. “It would be better if I showed you.”

“Won’t dinner get cold?”

“Do you care?”

Twelve

Late that night, Alandra lay in bed, wrapped snugly in Nicolas’s arms. She couldn’t have been more physically comfortable and sated…but her emotions were in an uproar.

She had done the very thing she’d sworn not to—she’d become Nicolas’s lover.

As disturbing as that was, as much as it made her question her own character, it wasn’t what had her teetering on the edge.

She’d realized not an hour before—while Nicolas was kissing her, stroking her and making her sigh—that she was falling in love with him.

She swallowed hard, blinking to keep the moisture collecting at the corners of her eyes from spilling over. Beneath her cheek, Nicolas’s chest rose and fell with his easy breathing.

This was bad. So bad. An affair was one thing. But how was she supposed to leave for home with a smile on her face if her heart was left behind, broken and bleeding?

How was she supposed to pretend that what had passed between them was just a holiday fling, when it had become so much more than that to her?

Nicolas shifted slightly in his sleep, causing her breath to catch. When he didn’t wake up, she relaxed, feeling a bit steadier.

Since she knew she was merely a temporary distraction for him, and that he didn’t share her newfound sentiments in the least, she would simply have to deal with the situation as best she could. Hide her feelings. And then, when the time came, she would walk away.

Closing her eyes, she began to drift off, telling herself to get used to the pain squeezing her heart. It was going to be with her for a long time to come.

They returned to the other side of the island the following morning, Christmas Eve, with many hours to spare before the family’s annual holiday party. Nicolas had made certain Alandra knew she was to attend, though she wasn’t entirely looking forward to it.

Stepping off the plane, they were accosted by a large group of reporters, all snapping pictures and screaming out questions. She had trouble making out the exact words, and Nicolas bustled her into the back of the waiting limousine before she could decipher them.

“What was that about?” she asked breathlessly as the car shifted into gear and headed toward the palace.

He shook his head. “The press probably caught wind of our travels and are trying to see if it’s worthy of front page news.”

The media attention still seemed odd to her, since the trip had been business-related and the palace likely would have already delivered a press release outlining the prince’s plans. But she pushed aside her misgivings and relaxed in the comfortable, stuffed leather seat.

When they arrived at the palace, the queen was waiting for them in the main foyer. Her face was pinched, her mouth set in a flat, angry line. Though she didn’t raise her voice, the disapproval in her tone was clear as glass.

“In the library,” she snapped. “Now.”

Nicolas and Alandra exchanged a questioning glance, then slowly followed in the queen’s rapid-fire footsteps.

As soon as they stepped into the library and closed the door behind them, Eleanor spun back around, holding a newspaper in her shaking hands. “What,” she demanded through clenched teeth, “is the meaning of this?”

Alandra stood perfectly still, stunned by the queen’s obvious displeasure, but unsure of the cause. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t make out the headline of the article being waved between them.

Seemingly unfazed by his mother’s mood, Nicolas reached for the paper. There, taking up nearly all of the top half of the front page was a close-up photo of Nicolas and Alandra. They were standing on the balcony of the hotel suite, caught in an unmistakable embrace.

The photo had to have been taken after they had made love, then gone out on the balcony for a breath of fresh air…only to end up kissing for long, stolen moments before drifting back inside to make love again.

Alandra’s cheeks flamed at both the memory and the knowledge that someone had been out there, snapping pictures of a very private moment.

Above the photo, sending a wave of nausea through her stomach, was a bold, glaring headline that declared her Prince Nicolas’s American Tart.

Nicolas muttered a dark curse beneath his breath and lowered the newspaper.

Still vibrating with anger, the queen said, “You and your little…American are on the front page of every newspaper in Glendovia. I told you, Nicolas. I told you not to get involved with her, that she would only bring shame and embarrassment to our family.”

The sick sensation clawing at Alandra’s insides grew worse. She’d come to Glendovia to get away from one scandal, only to find herself smack in the middle of another.

And this one was even worse, because now it was true. She hadn’t had an affair with Blake Winters, as the American press had claimed, but she had been sleeping with Nicolas.

“Mother,” Nicolas growled.

His jaw was clenched, and the single word was clearly a warning. One the queen chose to ignore.

“Princess Lisette arrived less than an hour ago—in tears. She’s crushed, and her parents are furious. Do you have any idea how this indignity will affect your upcoming nuptials? If she backs out of the engagement, our family’s ties with hers will be fractured. The political future of Glendovia could be in peril.”

“I think you’re overreacting,” Nicolas remarked, but it was obvious from his expression that the entire situation had him concerned.

Alandra’s brain had gotten stuck on two words that made her heart feel as though it were being squeezed in a vise.

She turned her head toward Nicolas. “You’re engaged?” she asked.

“It’s not what you think,” he said shortly. “I can explain.”

But she didn’t want to hear explanations, excuses, lies or more of the persuasive and creative arguments he seemed only too talented at spinning.

It was her turn to shake her head as she backed away.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured shakily, directing her apology to the queen, not Nicolas. She had nothing to apologize to him for.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, “I didn’t know he was betrothed. I certainly didn’t come here with the intention of getting involved with Nicolas. I would never have knowingly brought any embarrassment or undue attention to your family. I hope you can believe that.”

The queen’s pinched expression did not change as she turned to look at her son. “I’ll expect the two of you to keep your distance from now on. You will conduct yourselves with the utmost decorum and stay as far from each other as possible while we rectify this situation. Is that understood?”

Nicolas looked as though he wanted to argue, but Alandra was already nodding. She blinked to hold back tears of humiliation, even as she licked her dry, parched lips.

“You may go,” Eleanor told her, clearly dismissing her. “And you,” she said to Nicolas, “will speak with Lisette immediately, and do your best to repair whatever damage has been done. Is that understood?”

Alandra slipped out of the office, closing the doors behind her without waiting to hear Nicolas’s reply, and hurried across the parquet floor for the stairs. All she wanted was to get away, get back to her rooms, where she could be alone. What a fool she’d been. Again.

Standing in the doorway of her suite, Alandra took one last look around to be sure she hadn’t left anything behind. All had been erased.

Closing the door quietly behind her, she walked down the hall, pulling her wheeled carry-on behind her. Instead of heading for the front of the palace, where guests would be arriving for the Christmas Eve party, she slipped toward the back, where a car was waiting to take her to the airport.

Leaving now meant giving up the hefty bonus

Nicolas had promised for the charity of her choice, but she simply couldn’t stay. She wanted to go home, where she would be surrounded by family. Where she could hopefully hide and start to heal.

At the moment, the pain in her heart didn’t feel as though it would ever go away, but she was hopeful. Hopeful that the sooner she left Glendovia, the sooner she could put this entire incident behind her. That the farther she could get from Nicolas, the faster she would begin to forget that she’d let herself fall in love with him—and that he’d been lying to her the entire time.

“Thank you for all of your help,” she said to the woman who had helped her arrange for the car and a flight back to the United States.

Alandra handed her a stack of thick files and paperwork, with a separate sheet of stationery clipped to the outside. Despite her eagerness to leave, she had taken the time this afternoon to make certain the foundation wouldn’t be left in the lurch.

“Please see that Prince Nicolas gets this. It should be everything he needs to continue with the Dream a Little Dream project.”

The woman nodded and offered a small curtsy. “Yes, miss. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you,” Alandra said, swallowing back tears. In only a few short weeks she had grown unaccountably close to the palace staff and was sincerely going to miss them.

With her throat too clogged to speak another word, she walked to the waiting vehicle and climbed in the back. It was dark outside, and too dark to see much of anything through the tinted rear windows. But even so, as the car rolled slowly away from the palace, Alandra kept her gaze focused straight ahead, not wanting to catch even one final glimpse of the site where she’d experienced both an incredible amount of happiness and an incredible amount of heartache.

Nicolas kept his expression impassive throughout the night, giving no hint of his dark, foul mood. He was only too relieved when the Christmas party drew to an end and he was able to slip away from his family and their guests.

He muttered a curse through gritted teeth as he made his way down the long hallway to Alandra’s rooms. This was not the way he’d hoped things would turn out between them, or how he’d intended her visit to Glendovia to draw to a close.

When he reached her suite, he knocked lightly, then opened the door and entered without waiting for her response.

The lights were on and he heard noises coming from the bedroom, but something seemed oddly out of place.

“Alandra?” he called, striding in that direction.

He pushed open the door, immediately taking in the stripped bed and the lack of Alandra’s personal items, which had been scattered about the first night he’d spent with her. A second later, a maid appeared in the bathroom doorway and gave a little squeak of surprise.

“Your Highness,” she said, bowing her head.

“Where is Miss Sanchez?” he asked, frowning in consternation.

“I’m sorry, sir, but she’s gone. Left just before the party began.”

“She’s gone?” he repeated, feeling as though his feet had been swept out from under him.

“Yes, sir. I believe she left something for you, though, with Delores. Shall I get her for you?”

“Yes, thank you. Have her bring it to my office, if you would, please.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The maid rushed around him and out of the room. Nicolas trailed behind at a much slower pace, taking a back stairwell to the first floor and heading for his private office. Ten minutes later, Delores arrived. She had a stack of folders in her arms.

“Miss Sanchez left these for you, sir,” she said, handing them across the desk to him.

He thanked her, waiting until the servant had gone before opening the note on top of the pile. Alandra’s letter was oddly lacking in emotion, simply explaining that she couldn’t stay any longer, regardless of the requirements of her contract, now that she knew he was engaged to be married and those pictures had become public. The files, he discovered, held pages upon pages about the Dream a Little Dream Foundation.

He should have expected that she wouldn’t want to leave unless she was sure all of the project details were in his hands, and that the establishment of the organization would move forward as planned.

The problem was, he hadn’t expected her to leave at all. Not without talking with him, letting him explain.

He should have told her about Lisette in the beginning. Should have let her know that it was an arrangement made by his parents and not necessarily his choice. That even though he was betrothed to the princess, they had never been physically involved.

Lisette and his mother would be delighted to learn of Alandra’s departure. Without her presence in Glendovia, the scandal of their affair would die a quick death, and life as they knew it could move on, including plans for his upcoming wedding.

He only wished he felt the same. Instead, he found himself wanting to charge down the hall and be driven to the airport, follow Alandra all the way back to Texas.

If only she’d given him a chance to explain.

With a sigh of regret, he crumpled her note.

It was better this way, he told himself as he left his office and strolled slowly to his rooms on the second floor. Now that Alandra was gone, things could return to normal. He could get back to the matters at hand without being preoccupied with thoughts of making love to her just one more time. Yes, it was better this way. Better for everyone.

Thirteen

The noise from the back of the room buzzed in Alandra’s ears. She really didn’t want to do this.

After arriving home from Glendovia in the middle of the night—Christmas night, no less—she’d done her best to get her life back on track. News of her affair with Nicolas had yet to trickle back to the States. But if anyone in her immediate circle had heard about the affair they’d wisely chosen to ignore the gossip.

Everyone except her sister. Elena had waited until they’d gotten home from the airport to say anything, but she’d known instinctively that something had sent Alandra running back to Texas.

The minute they were alone, Alandra had broken down and told her sister everything, pouring her heart out about the situation and how she’d unwisely fallen in love with a man she could never have. And as always, her sister had understood. She’d listened and offered appropriate responses at appropriate times, but never acted as though she thought Alandra had been a fool to get involved with Nicolas in the first place.

Elena was also the one who’d encouraged her most strongly to throw herself back into her work, when Alandra had wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and hide under the covers for the next month or two.