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USA Today bestselling author HEIDI BETTS writes sexy, sassy, sensational romance. The recipient of several awards and stellar reviews, Heidi’s books combine believable characters with compelling plotlines, and are consistently described as “delightful,” “sizzling,” and “wonderfully witty.”

BRENDA HARLEN is a multi-award winning author for Mills & Boon True Love who has written over twenty-five books for the company.

USA TODAY bestselling author CATHERINE MANN has books in print in more than twenty countries with Mills & Boon and other imprints. A six-time RITA® finalist, she has won both a RITA® and Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award. Mother of four, Catherine lives in South Carolina where she enjoys kayaking, hiking with her dog and volunteering in animal rescue. FMI, visit: catherinemann.com

Her Christmas Prince

Christmas in His Royal Bed

Heidi Betts

Royal Holiday Bride

Brenda Harlen

Yuletide Baby Surprise

Catherine Mann


www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09885-4

HER CHRISTMAS PRINCE

Christmas in His Royal Bed © 2007 Heidi Betts Royal Holiday Bride © 2011 Brenda Harlen Yuletide Baby Surprise © 2013 Catherine Mann

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Christmas in His Royal Bed

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Royal Holiday Bride

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Yuletide Baby Surprise

Back Cover Text

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

About the Publisher

Christmas in His Royal Bed

Heidi Betts

In loving memory of Helen Brown. When she passed away this time last year after a long and valiant battle with breast cancer, I lost a friend, and the romance world lost a dedicated fan. We miss you, Helen. And if Heaven is any kind of Heaven at all, it will be filled with romance novels for you to enjoy.

And with much appreciation to loyal reader Jennifer Yates, who, when I challenged readers to help me out, came up with many of the names used in this story. Thanks, Jennifer!

One

Only she would do.

Prince Stephan Nicolas Braedon of Glendovia watched the ebony-haired beauty from afar. Tall and lithe, with an hourglass figure, she had silky black hair that fell in a straight curtain to her hips. He was too far away to know the color of her eyes or see the full pout of her lips, but he trusted the feeling in his gut that told him both would be just as alluring as the rest of her.

Cocking his head toward the tall, suited man at his side, he said in a low voice, “Find out her name.”

His bodyguard followed the direction of his gaze, then gave a stiff nod before moving away. Nicolas didn’t need to ask how Osric intended to get the information, nor did he care.

A few minutes later, his bodyguard returned, standing at attention at Nicolas’s side.

“Her name is Alandra Sanchez, Your Highness. She is in charge of the organization of this evening’s event.”

Alandra. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.

She floated around the large, crowded ballroom, smiling, chatting with guests, making sure everything was running smoothly. The full-length lavender gown she wore shimmered in the muted lighting every time she moved, and fit her perfect feminine curves like a glove.

Nicolas hadn’t attended this fund-raising dinner in hopes of finding a lover, but now that he’d seen her, he knew he wouldn’t be leaving the United States without making arrangements for her to become his next mistress.

It was true that he was the member of the royal family in charge of overseeing Glendovia’s charitable organizations, but his duties did not extend to attending charitable events outside of his own country. That, he usually left to his sister or one of his two brothers.

But though his sister, Mia, had been scheduled to make the trip to the States and attend this dinner to raise funds for a new children’s wing at a central Texas hospital, she’d had to cancel at the last minute. Since Nicolas was to meet with very wealthy oilmen to discuss fuel for his country, he decided to attend.

Until a few minutes ago, he had been resenting the interruption of his own life and plans, and all but cursing his sister for being the cause. Now, however, he was considering sending Mia a bouquet of flowers or a box of her favorite truffles. He wanted to thank her for putting him on a path to what could turn out to be an extremely pleasurable experience.

Smiling so brightly the muscles in her cheeks ached, Alandra Sanchez moved around the room, making sure everything was running smoothly. She’d been working to set up this gala for months now, in hopes of raising both awareness and money for the new children’s hospital wing.

Unfortunately, things weren’t going quite as well as she’d hoped, and Alandra knew she had only herself to blame.

Everyone in the room seemed to be watching her. She could see their curiosity. Sense their condemnation.

All because she’d had the dreadful misfortune to get mixed up with the wrong man.

Of all the things that could have happened to put a damper on this evening’s event, this was the worst. A hurricane, a flash flood, even the hotel catching on fire…

Those were all disasters she could have handled. They barely would have caused a blip on her radar. But instead, she was being personally attacked, her reputation besmirched.

It served her right for ever getting involved with Blake Winters in the first place. She should have known the minute she met him that he would end up causing her nothing but trouble.

And now everyone in this room—everyone in Gabriel’s Crossing, the great state of Texas and possibly the entire United States of America—thought she was a home-wrecking adulteress.

That’s what the newspaper gossip columns were saying about her. Her picture, along with Blake’s and that of his wife and two children, had been plastered everywhere, with glaring, slanderous headlines.

Ignoring the stares and whispers she knew were aimed in her direction, Alandra held her head high and continued wending her way through the ballroom, acting as though nothing was wrong. As though her heart wasn’t racing, her face wasn’t flushed with humiliation and her palms weren’t damp with anxiety.

Nothing that had happened in the week since the story of her affair with Blake Winters broke had led her to believe the fund-raising dinner wouldn’t still be a complete success. None of the invited guests had cancelled, making excuses for why they couldn’t attend. No one from the hospital benevolence society had called to complain about the scandal she found herself suddenly embroiled in, or to voice concerns about her name being linked to the organization.

All of which led her to believe everything would be fine. That even though reporters were camped out on her front lawn, the rest of her life continued to run smoothly.

Now, though, she wasn’t so sure. Now, she thought perhaps every seat in the room was filled because the cream of central Texas high society wanted an up-close-and-personal glimpse of one of their own who had so recently fallen from grace.

She might as well have a scarlet letter pinned to her chest or a piece of spinach stuck in her teeth, for all the attention being focused on her every move.

The attention—even negative attention—she could handle. What concerned her more than the stares and whispers was the impact her newly sullied reputation might have on the amount of money collected this evening.

She’d worked so hard to put this event together, was so passionate about her philanthropy, giving of both her time and money to support the causes she felt most strongly about. And she had always been quite successful in convincing others to give to those causes, too.

Usually, by this point in the evening, she would already have collected a dozen extremely generous checks slipped to her by those in attendance, with more to follow at the end of the night. Tonight, however, her hands—and the hospital’s coffers—were still empty.

Because she’d had the misfortune of meeting Blake Winters at another fund-raiser last year, and hadn’t been wise enough to turn him away when he’d started asking her out, those who were most in need could very well end up going without.

The prospect broke her heart, and she pressed a hand to the snug satin stays sewn into the lining of her gown in an attempt to settle the nervous caterpillars squirming and wiggling in her belly.

She would act as though nothing was wrong, nothing was out of the ordinary—and pray like the dickens that the crowd got over their curiosity and remembered their true purpose for being here before the evening was over. Otherwise, she had a sneaking suspicion her personal bank account would be taking a hard hit when she attempted to single-handedly make up for what the children’s wing fund should have earned tonight. And probably would have, if not for her bad luck and some of the poor decisions she’d made recently.

Once she’d made her loop through the crowd to be sure every seat was filled, every guest served and everything was running as smoothly as possible, she returned to her own place at the front of the room, where a raised dais had been set up for the event’s organizers. She made small talk with the women on either side of her and choked down her meal, barely tasting a bite.

Next came a speech from the organization’s president, and a short ceremony where plaques were given to several members who had gone above and beyond in the past year. Even Alandra received one, for her continued dedication to raising money for the hospital.

Finally, the evening drew to an end, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She was now holding a few generous checks, and had received promises for more. Not as many as she’d collected in the past, and she had definitely noticed a distinct difference in the way people had treated her throughout the evening. But at least things were looking a bit brighter than they had when the night began.

She made a final round of the room, nodding farewells to guests as they exited the ballroom, and making sure no one left anything behind before the hotel staff started cleaning up.

Gathering her own small, beaded clutch and shawl from her seat, she found her mind racing ahead to what she needed to do the next day—thoughts that were interrupted when she heard a low, masculine voice call her name.

“Miss Sanchez?”

Turning, she found herself dwarfed by a wide-shouldered, dark-haired mountain of a man.

She swallowed once before pasting a smile on her face and tipping her head up, up, up to meet his gaze.

“Yes?”

“If you have a minute, my employer would like to speak with you.”

He inclined his head, drawing her attention to the back of the room, where a lone gentleman sat at one of the now-cleared round tables.

From what she could see at this distance, he was quite handsome.

He was also staring at her.

“Your employer?” she asked.

“Yes, miss.”

So much for gaining more information about who, exactly, the mountain’s employer was.

But if he had attended tonight’s dinner, then he was likely a current or potential donor, and she always had time to speak with a contributor. Especially one who could afford his own bodyguard, or CIA agent, or professional wrestler….

“Of course,” she said, maintaining her bright, upbeat demeanor.

Turning sideways, the giant gestured for her to move ahead of him, and then escorted her across the nearly empty room. Around them, dishes clinked and stacked chairs clattered as the kitchen and cleaning staff worked to disassemble what had taken all day to set up.

As she approached the man who wished to speak with her, he lifted a flute of champagne and took a long sip.

He wore a smartly tailored jacket of navy blue, cut quite differently than most of those she’d seen throughout the night. He definitely was not a local.

She also noticed that her earlier perception of him being “quite handsome” was a gross inaccuracy. He was movie-star gorgeous, with dark hair and startling blue eyes that seemed to bore into her like laser beams.

Holding out her hand, she introduced herself. “Hello, I’m Alandra Sanchez.”

“I know,” he replied, taking her hand and refusing to let it go as he tugged her gently forward. “Have a seat, won’t you, please.”

Letting her shawl fall lower on her bare back, she slid onto the chair beside him. “Your…employee said you wanted to speak to me.”

“Yes,” he replied slowly. “May I offer you a glass of champagne?”

She opened her mouth to refuse, but the hulk was already pouring and setting a glass in front of her.

“Thank you.”

Though they both had drinks now, and the evening’s event was clearly over, the man seated beside her still didn’t speak. The silence made Alandra shift uncomfortably, and caused gooseflesh to break out along her arms.

“What did you need to speak with me about, Mr.…” she finally pressed, careful to remain as polite as possible.

“You may call me Nicolas,” he replied.

His voice carried a slight accent. Perhaps the hint of a British lilt, but Alandra couldn’t place it.

“Nicolas,” she repeated, because he seemed to expect it. Then she continued in her attempts to get to his reason for wanting to speak with her.

“Were you interested in making a donation to the fund for the new children’s cancer wing of the hospital?” she asked. “If so, I would be happy to accept a check tonight. Or if you’d prefer, I can put you in touch with someone from the organization you can speak with, to make your contribution personally.”

For a moment after she finished, he simply continued to study her, his lapis-blue eyes sharp and commandingly intense.

After taking another sip of the expensive champagne, he slowly said, “I would be happy to give to your little…cause. However, that is not why I invited you over here.”

Alandra’s eyes widened fractionally at that, but she did her best to hide her consternation.

“I am staying in a suite of rooms here in this hotel,” he informed her. “I’d like for you to return there with me. Spend the rest of the evening in my bed. If things go well and we are…compatible, perhaps we can discuss further arrangements.”

Alandra blinked, but otherwise remained frozen in place, her entire body mannequin-stiff and unmoving. She couldn’t have been more stunned if he’d lifted a hand and slapped her across the face.

She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what she should say.

This certainly wasn’t the first time she’d been propositioned. Young or old, rich or poor, men had always been attracted to her, and she’d had more than her share of invitations to dinner, the theater, even romantic jaunts to private island hideaways.

And, yes, she was well aware that every single one of those men had hopes that dinner, the theater and tropical getaways would help him to seduce her into his bed.

But never—never—had any of them been so bold, so brash, as to flat-out ask her to sleep with him.

This was all because of the scandal, she realized suddenly, her spine snapping straight with offense. Those bloody articles had labeled her an immoral home wrecker. And this man had obviously gotten wind of that and decided she wouldn’t be averse to an indecent proposal.

Well, she was averse. She was disgusted and thoroughly insulted.

Pushing her chair back, she rose to her feet, rearranged her shawl across her back and arms, and tightened her fingers on her small clutch purse. Concentrating on her breathing, she stood perfectly rigid, looking down at him.

“I don’t know what kind of woman you think I am. But I can assure you I’m not the kind to go to bed with a man I’ve just met.”

She cut a quick glance at the bear standing at attention a yard or two away. “Maybe your bodyguard can find someone a little more willing and a lot less discriminating to go back to your room with you tonight. That is, if you’re utterly incapable of finding her on your own.”

With that, Alandra turned on her heel and marched out of the ballroom to the elevator.

Just who the hell did the man think he was?

Two

Who did she think she was to speak to him in such a manner?

Nicolas had never been turned down like that before.

He blinked once, slowly, searching his memory for a similar incident that might have taken place during his lifetime.

No, he didn’t think he’d been turned down ever.

Had she actually implied that he was incapable of finding his own female companionship? Or that he had to order Osric to pay a woman to spend time with him?

He shook his head, still not quite believing what had just taken place. Behind him, Osric shuffled closer, looming over his right shoulder.

“Your Highness, shall I go after her and bring her back so that you may finish your conversation?”

Nicolas could picture his oversize bodyguard, who closely resembled a brick wall, tackling Miss Sanchez to the ground and carting her back to him…and the fuss the lady would kick up if he so much as tried.

“No, thank you, Osric,” he replied. “I believe I’ll be returning to the suite alone this evening.”

Placing his hands on the tabletop in front of him, he stood and straightened the front of his jacket, then started out of the ballroom, with his trusty security guard close on his heels.

He should be upset, Nicolas thought, as they made their way through the hotel to his private, luxurious suite on the thirty-third floor.

Ironically, he was more intrigued than ever by the ebony-haired beauty. It was her face and figure that had first caught his attention, and seeing her up close hadn’t changed his mind about having her in his bed.

He would have expected a dressing-down such as she’d given him to turn him off, to make him realize he didn’t want to sleep with a woman who possessed such a sharp tongue. Instead, her spirit fired his blood.

If anything, he found himself wanting her more. She was lovely and fierce, and he could only imagine how passionately those qualities would translate between the sheets.

Alandra Sanchez might think she’d gotten in the last word downstairs, when she’d all but told him to take his offer and go straight to the devil. But Prince Stephan Nicolas Braedon was used to getting his way, getting what he wanted.

And he wanted her.

So he would have her. He only had to figure out how.

One week later…

“Pop? Alandra? Is anybody here?”

Alandra heard her sister calling from downstairs, and was more than happy to take a break from the event plans she’d been working on all afternoon.

Since Elena had moved out of their father’s house and into her own with her new husband, Chase, Alandra didn’t get to see her as often as she used to.

Abandoning her desk, she found her sister looking slightly frazzled as she flipped through a pile of mail stacked beside a large arrangement of fresh flowers on the round table in the center of the foyer. When she heard Alandra’s approach, Elena raised her head and rolled her eyes.

“A reporter tried to follow my car through the security gate,” she snapped, waving a hand over her shoulder in the direction of the front door. “He was camped out front, waiting.”

Alandra frowned, moving closer to give her sister a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry. I really thought they’d have lost interest by now and moved on to something else.”

“It’s not your fault,” Elena said with a sigh, returning Alandra’s hug. “And eventually they will lose interest and move on.”

“So what are you doing here?” she asked distractedly, her mind still on the reporter. It was one thing for her to be harassed and annoyed because of her own foolish actions, but it was another for her family to be dragged into this mess.

“Since Chase won’t be home for dinner because of a late meeting, I thought I’d stop by to say hello, see how you and Pop are doing, and grab a bite to eat. Not to mention picking up any stray mail,” she added, stuffing a few letters into the side pocket of her handbag.

Her sister had married and moved out last year, but the change-of-address process took time, and the odd letter or piece of mail showed up for her occasionally.

“Well, dinner will be served at seven, as usual, and as far as I know, everything is fine around here. Pop is still at the office, and I’ve just been working on the plans for that fund-raiser for the animal shelters.”

“Will Chase and I be invited?” Elena asked.

“Of course.”

“Looks like you got something important,” her sister said, nodding toward the letter left on top of the stack.

Alandra picked up the thick envelope and read the return address, which was embossed in dark blue, fancy raised script on parchment-quality stationery. “H.R.H. Prince Stephan Nicolas Braedon, Kingdom of Glendovia.”

“His Royal Highness?” Elena asked. “Really? You got a letter from a prince?”

“It appears so.” She opened the envelope and skimmed the official-looking letterhead and neatly typed text of the top page. Then, heart stuttering, she read it again. “Oh, my God,” she breathed.

“What?”

“This Prince Stephan wants me to come to his kingdom and oversee all of their fund-raising organizations.”

Both sisters scanned the letter. It touched on Alandra’s past fund-raising accomplishments, which the prince claimed were very impressive, and stressed how much Glendovia could use her assistance. He even went so far as to enclose copies of a contract for her employment that he hoped she would peruse and strongly consider signing.

Lifting the cover sheet, Alandra read the one-page agreement. It briefly outlined her duties and obligations, if she chose to accept the royal family’s offer, as well as their obligations to her.

“Do you think this is legitimate?” Elena demanded.

The Braedon name did ring some bells. “I guess it would be easy enough to check out,” she replied.

The two of them went into Alandra’s office, where she started going through her guest lists, and her sister did a quick search on the Internet.

“Huh,” Elena said when they discovered at almost the same moment that Stephan Nicolas Braedon was, indeed, a bona fide prince, and the island of Glendovia really did exist. According to Alandra’s records, another member of the Braedon royal family—a Princess Mia—had attended one of her recent fund-raisers.

“What are you going to do?” Elena asked.

“Well, I’ll reply, of course, and thank him for the generous offer, but I can’t possibly accept. I’m already knee-deep in organizing my next event, and Christmas is a month off. I don’t want to be away from my family over the holidays.”

“I don’t blame you, but you have to admit it’s a flattering offer.”

Extremely flattering, Alandra thought, glancing once again at the raised script of the letterhead. She almost wanted to reach out and run her fingertips over the prince’s name. Her letter of refusal definitely wouldn’t be an easy one to write.

“But maybe…”

Alandra glanced at her sister. “What?”

“I was just thinking that maybe this position in Glendovia is exactly what you need.”

Alandra frowned. “What?”

“Well, things are anything but simple around here for you right now. You’ve got a reporter camped outside the house, that jerk Winters still calling you, and…well…” Her gaze skittered away and her voice softened slightly. “I heard that last week’s fund-raiser didn’t go as well as your events usually do.”

Alandra took a breath, trying not to let the pain of having her shortcomings pointed out by her own flesh and blood overwhelm her.

Running a supportive hand down her arm, Elena continued. “I was just thinking that if you got away for a while, where no one could find you, this would all blow over. And when you came back, you could get on with your life as though none of it had ever happened.”

“But I would be away from you guys,” Alandra murmured. “Over Christmas.”

“You could come back before then. But even if you didn’t, it’s only one holiday. There’s always next year.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, her sister added, “I don’t necessarily want you to go, I’m just saying that maybe you should think it over and do what’s best for you. I think Pop would agree.”

“I’ll consider it,” Alandra said, realizing her sister was making a good point. Perhaps the best way to leave all this scandal behind was to fly off to a foreign country.

Three

Less than a week later, the Saturday after Thanksgiving, Alandra arrived on the island of Glendovia, hoping against hope that she’d made the right decision.

Her flight had been uneventful. And a limousine had been waiting at the airport for her, as promised in the itinerary that had been faxed to her as soon as she’d accepted Prince Stephan’s offer.

Staring out the window as the car sped through the countryside, Alandra was swept away by the beauty of the tiny island country. Located in a northern area of the Mediterranean, it was postcard perfect, with a clear azure sky, rolling emerald hills, and the sprawling blue-green of the sea visible in the distance.

Even what she assumed to be the center of the capital seemed more quaint and clean than anywhere she’d traveled in America or Europe. The buildings were tall, but not mammoth. The streets were busy, but not crowded and harried.

Things seemed more tranquil here, and for the first time since scrawling her name across the bottom of that employment contract, she thought she might actually be glad she’d agreed to come.

Her family had supported the decision wholeheartedly, wanting her to be happy and get away from the scandal they knew was causing her such pain. She had accepted the position in order to protect them from a part of her life that had gotten ugly, in hope it would not spill over onto them.

The limousine slowed and waited for a tall, antique iron gate to slide open. They drove up a long, winding lane that ran among pristine, well-manicured lawns and gardens.

The house—palace was a better word—was somewhat historical in design, but looked updated and modern. Eggshell-white, with pillars and balconies and a myriad of floor-to-ceiling windows, it stood atop a small rise overlooking the splashing waves of the Mediterranean.

As the driver opened the door and helped her out of the vehicle, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the breathtaking view. Alandra continued to gawk while the driver removed her bags from the trunk and escorted her to the front door.

A butler opened it and invited her inside, where a handful of maids dressed in matching gray uniforms collected her luggage and trotted off with it.

The butler said, “The prince has requested you be brought to him immediately upon your arrival, Miss Sanchez. If you’ll follow me.”

Feeling as though she’d just stepped into a fairy tale, Alandra did just that, taking in every detail of the foyer as they passed.

The floor was of highly polished marble in squares of black and a mottled gray-white. A chandelier the size of a small bus hung overhead, with thousands of dangling crystals twinkling in the natural light. Directly across from the front entrance stood a wide staircase leading halfway to the second level before branching off to either side.

The butler led her to the right of the foyer and down a carpeted corridor lined with priceless artwork. He paused at one of the closed doors and knocked. When a low, muffled voice bade him enter, he stepped inside, announced Alandra’s presence and then moved aside for her to pass.

The personal office was decidedly masculine, with a dark area rug, built-in bookshelves lining three of the four walls, and a large cherrywood desk taking up a good portion of the room.

Dragging her gaze from the impressive surroundings, Alandra turned her attention to the man sitting behind that desk…only to feel her eyes go wide and her mouth fall open.

“You.”

“Miss Sanchez.” He rose and regally rounded the desk until he stood directly in front of her. “How good of you to accept my offer and come to work for our family.”

“You’re Prince Stephan—”

“Nicolas Braedon of Glendovia, yes. You may call me Nicolas.”

Nicolas. The same Nicolas who had asked her over for a glass of champagne and then invited her to sleep with him.

Her mouth went dry with shock, her stomach clenching and her pulse kicking as though she’d just run a marathon.

How could this be happening?

“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice faint as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. “Why would you invite me to work for you after the way we parted? All you wanted from me then was…”

Realization dawned.

“You did this on purpose. You lured me here under false pretenses so that I would sleep with you.”

“My dear Miss Sanchez,” he replied, standing straight as a sword, with his hands clasped behind his back, “Glendovia is very much in need of someone to organize its charitable foundations. And, after seeing you in action, I decided you would be the perfect person for the job.”

“And you’ve changed your mind about wanting me in your bed?” she challenged.

Nicolas studied the woman in front of him, struggling not to smile at her forthright manner and the fury snapping in her brown, almond-shaped eyes. It was a sight to behold, and only made him more certain of the wisdom of the campaign he’d put in motion.

Her rejection of him during his stay in America hadn’t dulled his desire for her at all. He had decided, not long after, that since the direct approach hadn’t worked, perhaps he needed to go about attaining his goal in a more subtle way.

When it came to Alandra Sanchez, it seemed a bit of seduction was in order.

It had taken him a few days after returning home to land on the idea of asking her to his country for an extended stay. He knew she wouldn’t accept if he merely invited her…or if she knew he was extending the invitation, for that matter.

But because they had philanthropy in common, he knew that was the one motive that had a chance of catching her attention. There was also the rather generous bonus he’d included in the employment contract as an added incentive—two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to be donated by him to a charity of her choosing once she’d fulfilled her part of the bargain.

And now she was here, exactly where he wanted her.

Not that she looked even remotely willing to jump into bed with him at the moment. But as with everything else, that would come.

He would see to it.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he murmured, replying to her question about whether or not he’d changed his mind about wanting her in his bed. “But I am certainly capable of separating business from pleasure.”

Without giving her a chance to argue, he continued. “Come. I’ll show you to your room, where you can unpack and perhaps rest before supper.”

Dropping his arms to his sides, he stepped around her and crossed the room to open the door.

“Don’t bother,” she replied curtly behind his back. “I’m not staying.”

Half turning to face her once again, he maintained a neutral expression. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you are. You signed a contract.”

“Contract be damned.” She started for the door, her demeanor icy.

He waited for her to pass, then caught her arm as she marched down the empty hallway. “Are you really willing to deprive one of your favorite charities of a quarter of a million dollars?”

The reminder stopped her in her tracks, and he pressed his advantage. “If you leave, reneging on the agreement, you forfeit the bonus. Stay through the month of December and you will not only be paid the agreed-upon wage, but will also earn a hefty sum to bestow as you see fit.”

He could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she weighed her options. Leave, and she would be safe from him; he would have no opportunity to try to lure her into his bed. Stay, and she would be all but walking into the lion’s den, but would also end up earning a quarter of a million dollars to fund one of her pet projects. It was a compelling enticement.

The seconds ticked by while she stood in the middle of the hall, wracked with indecision. Once again, he chose to give her a small nudge in the direction he wished her to go.

Moving closer, he placed a hand at the small of her back. She stiffened and pulled away just enough to break the contact.

“Please,” he said diplomatically, “allow me to show you where you’ll be staying if you elect to remain and fulfill your contract. The family will gather in the dining room for dinner at eight o’clock. I’d like you to be there, if you would, to meet everyone. After that, if you still wish to return to the United States…”

He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I won’t say I’ll let you go without penalty, but I will be willing to discuss the situation further.”

For a moment, he thought she would continue her retreat. And then the rigid line of her spine relaxed slightly and her shoulders lifted as she inhaled a deep breath.

Without turning around, she said, “Fine. I’ll stay through dinner.”

“Excellent. Come along, then,” he replied, careful not to let his satisfaction show as he stepped around her and walked the rest of the way down the hall.

He led her through the foyer and up the curved staircase, toward the west wing. There were more hallways and a second set of stairs before they reached the suites of rooms reserved for guests.

The royal family’s quarters were located in the east wing, on the opposite end of the palace. But that was for the best. If his plan to seduce Alandra succeeded, their relationship could be kept almost completely secret, thanks to the relative privacy of the west wing and the fact that she would be the only person in residence there for the next month.

Reaching her suite, he opened the heavy, carved mahogany door, standing just inside to allow her to enter ahead of him. Briefly, he showed her the sprawling sitting room, with its large-screen plasma television and DVD library. Nicolas hadn’t known her personal tastes, so he’d ordered the room to be stocked with a variety of choices, any of which she could exchange in the family’s entertainment room whenever she liked.

Glancing thrthat Alandra’sicolas was happy to note that Alandra’s things had already been unpacked and put away. She was carefully observing her surroundings, and if she was offended that the palace staff had handled her belongings, she didn’t say so. She looked pleased with the accommodations, her expressive eyes taking in every detail of the beautifully decorated rooms.

“I’ll leave you alone now, to rest or take a tour of the grounds, whatever you like. One of the staff can show you to the dining room when you’re ready.”

Turning on his heel, he left her standing in the middle of the bedroom.

Alandra watched him go, still seething at his manipulation, and yet not so angry that she failed to notice the handsome, regal picture he made as he exited.

She supposed she should be flattered that a prince wanted her in his bed. Most women would be, she imagined.

The problem was that he hadn’t seemed interested in her, in getting to know her or starting a relationship with her. His request when they’d met in Texas was to take her to bed for a night—or perhaps a handful of nights. And because of who he was, he expected her to simply acquiesce.

Even if she might have been attracted to him otherwise, that fact turned her off entirely. She didn’t want to be some playboy prince’s temporary intimate diversion.

With a sigh, she began to explore her rooms, checking to see where all her things had been stored. Dresses, blouses and slacks hung in the wardrobe. More casual tops and pants had been folded and stacked in the dresser, along with her underthings. And her toiletries had been lined up on the bathroom counter or tucked into the available drawers. Even the books and folders she’d brought, for work and for leisure, had been neatly stacked on a small desk set before one of the windows overlooking the balcony.

She hadn’t made up her mind yet about whether she planned to stay, but had to admit that if she did decide to fulfill her bargain with the Prince of Lies, the view alone would make her visit feel less like manipulation and more like a paid vacation.

Stepping onto the wide stone balcony, she moved to the railing and gazed out at the ocean beyond. Waves rolled to the shore, bringing with them a gentle lulling sound that could soothe even the most restless soul.

Glancing at her watch, Alandra saw that she still had a couple of hours before she needed to start getting ready for dinner with the royal family. The thought of meeting them caused her stomach to dip dizzily.

But she would deal with that when she had to. For now, she would call home to let her father and sister know she’d arrived safely, and to maybe get Elena’s advice about her current situation.

Should she stay or should she go? Should she tell the prince just what he could do with his devious, conniving contract, and walk away from the chance to gift a quarter of a million dollars to a charity that could dearly use the money? Or should she swallow her pride and do what she had to to get through the month?

Four

At five minutes to eight that evening, Alandra followed the maze of hallways on the palace’s second floor and found her way to the main staircase. The maid who had come to check up on her earlier had given her general directions to the dining room, and Alandra thought she could find it on her own.

But she needn’t have worried. As soon as she reached the stairs, she found Nicolas standing at the bottom, waiting for her.

He was dressed in a dark suit, which made her feel better about her own outfit. She hadn’t known quite what to wear to her first dinner with a royal family, so had opted for a simple blue silk dress.

“Good evening,” Nicolas said in greeting, watching her intently as she descended the stairs.

Alandra felt a skittering of awareness as his gaze swept her from head to toe. No doubt about it, this man was dangerous. If she decided to stay, she would have to be very careful not to let those blue eyes and his handsome face lure her in and make her do something she wouldn’t normally do.

“Good evening,” she replied, pausing at the bottom of the stairs.

“May I?” he asked, offering his arm.

She hesitated only a second before accepting, lightly slipping her hand around his elbow.

“You look lovely,” he told her as they crossed the marble floor. The chandelier had been turned on, sending bright, twinkling light throughout the foyer and beyond.

“Thank you.”

She was saved from having to make further conversation as they reached the dining room. Nicolas opened one of the tall double doors, ushering her inside.

The room was as opulent as the rest of the palace. A long, narrow trestle table ran the length of it, surrounded by heavy, high-backed chairs with seats embroidered with what must be the Braedon family crest. Light trickled down from another chandelier hanging over the table, and glowed from many wall sconces.

The queen and king were already seated at the table, which held intricate place settings laid out for six guests. Nicolas guided her forward, stopping near what she assumed would be her seat.

“Mother, Father, I’d like you to meet Alandra Sanchez. She’s from the United States and will be our guest for the next month while she works to help us better organize Glendovia’s charitable foundations. And hopefully increase their profit margin. Alandra, this is my father, King Halden, and my mother, Queen Eleanor.”

The older man rose and came halfway around the table, taking her hand and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “Welcome to Glendovia, my dear.

We appreciate the work you’ll be doing on behalf of our country.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she replied, only slightly intimidated by meeting and speaking with a real live king. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Turning toward the queen, Alandra noticed that she’d remained seated. And when Alandra approached, she didn’t offer to shake her hand.

“Your Highness,” Alandra murmured politely and respectfully, pausing before the older woman.

She was greeted with a rather stiff nod, giving her the uncomfortable feeling that she wasn’t as welcome as Nicolas and his father would have her believe.

“Please be seated,” the queen told her. “Dinner will be served soon.”

Returning to Nicolas’s side, Alandra allowed him to hold her chair for her before he made his way around the table to the place directly across from her.

A second later, the dining room doors opened again and another couple swept in. It was obvious to Alandra that the gentleman, at least, was related to Nicolas. He had the same build, coloring and facial structure as Nicolas and the king.

The woman had similar physical traits, but Alandra didn’t want to assume anything for fear she was a wife or girlfriend rather than a sister.

“Good evening, everyone,” the man boomed, smiling easily.

“Mother, Father,” the young woman intoned, removing any doubt of her relation to the others. “Nicolas,” she added, laying her hands on his shoulders and leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Menace,” he replied, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a grin before he shifted his attention back to Alandra. “I’d like you to meet my younger brother, Sebastian, and my sister, Mia, the baby of the family.”

Princess Mia gave a short, harried sigh. “I hate it when you introduce me that way,” she told him.

“I know. That’s why I do it,” he countered. Alandra didn’t miss the affectionate sparkle in his eyes or the amusement that lingered on his sister’s face as she strolled around the table to take the seat to Alandra’s left.

“Our eldest brother, Dominick, is out of the country right now, but hopefully you’ll meet him before you leave.”

Shaking out the napkin on her plate and placing it neatly in her lap, Mia said, “It’s nice to meet you, Alandra. Nicolas mentioned that you would be coming. He says you have brilliant ideas about increasing the amount of funds taken in by nonprofit organizations.”

Alandra’s gaze flashed to Nicolas, flattered by his indirect praise, but he was looking at his sister.

“She’s done terrific work with several charities back in the States,” he announced.

From his seat across the table, Sebastian said, “That’s good. We certainly have our share of worthy causes here on the island that could use a bit of a boost. And it helps that she’s quite the beauty.” Glancing in her direction, Sebastian winked.

For a moment, Alandra was startled by his brash behavior—in front of his family, no less. Then she realized this must simply be his personality. He was the youngest son, the one furthest in line from taking over the throne, and from the looks of it, a bit of a playboy, to boot.

She returned his good-natured smile before noticing the scowl on Nicolas’s face. Her enjoyment fled immediately, replaced by a strange sensation in the pit of her belly. She didn’t know whether to be concerned or intimidated, or even amused.

He had brought her here to be his mistress; she knew that. Under the pretense of working for his family, perhaps, but that didn’t change the fact that he wanted her in his bed.

However, that didn’t explain why he would look so cross at his brother’s harmless comment and teasing.

Unless Nicolas and Sebastian had fought over—or perhaps shared—women before. Was Nicolas concerned that his brother would catch her eye before he’d had a chance to seduce her himself?

Oh, that was an interesting twist. And it would serve him right for spinning such a web of deceit to bring her here in the first place.

Servants arrived then to pour glasses of water and rich red wine. When the salad course was served, conversation turned to family and Glendovian affairs. Alandra ate in relative silence, finding the topics interesting, but having few comments of her own to add.

During dessert, Mia and Sebastian asked her about her own family and life back in Texas. She was only too happy to answer, but avoided any mention of the scandal that had driven her away.

“And what are your plans now that you’re here?” Mia inquired. “Where do you think you’ll begin with the charities?”

Before Alandra could answer, Nicolas interrupted. “That’s something I intend to discuss with her at great length, but she’s just arrived and I haven’t had the chance to fill her in yet on everything she’ll need to know.” Pushing back his chair, he rose to his feet. “In fact, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like to get started on that now.”

He came around to her side of the table, taking her arm and giving her little choice but to leave with him. She said her good-nights and followed him across the room.

“Nicolas,” the queen called out as he reached the door. “I’d like a word with you.”

“Certainly, Mother,” he replied in a respectful tone. “As soon as I see Alandra to her rooms, I’ll return to the library. We can speak there.”

His mother offered an almost imperceptible nod and they left.

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.”

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