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A Princess By Christmas
A Princess By Christmas
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A Princess By Christmas

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“Um...no.” He glanced away. He was letting himself get off track. It must be jet lag, because he wasn’t here to pick up women—even one as captivating as the woman standing before him. “About the room—”

“The place is full up until Monday.”

“Monday?” That was impossible. The muscles in his neck and shoulders tightened. “I made the reservation for today.”

“If you’d like to make another reservation, I can check our calendar.” She turned and stepped inside.

He strode after her, closing the door behind him. “I assure you I have a reservation, if you’d just check.”

With an audible huff, she stopped in the foyer and turned. “Listen. I don’t have your reservation. In fact, I’ve never spoken to you in my life. I would have remembered the accent.”

He would have remembered her honeyed voice, too. She was as attractive as she was frustrating. “Someone else must have taken my reservation. Surely you’re not the only person who works here.” Then again, this place was smaller than he’d been expecting. “Are you?”

Her forehead crinkled. “No, I’m not. But anyone you’d have spoken to would have checked the online system and known we were booked.”

Not about to give up, he thought back to the phone call when he’d made the reservation. “It was a woman I spoke to about getting a room. She sounded a bit older than you. She took my information.”

She frowned. “Maybe you do have a reservation. It’s possible it didn’t get entered in our system.” She lowered her head and shook it. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have anywhere for you to stay. We are hosting a wedding this weekend.”

He’d boarded three different flights today just to be sure he’d lost the paparazzi. And he’d suffered through a long layover in the Atlanta airport, cramped in a chair. All he wanted to do now was enjoy a warm meal and a soft bed. He held back a yawn. Rather make that a soft bed and then the warm meal. Anything else was unacceptable.

He straightened to his full six-foot-three-inch height and pressed his hands to his waist. He swallowed his frustration and strove for a professional tone. “What about my deposit?”

Her lush lips gaped and her face paled. “You made a deposit?”

“Yes. Check your computer.”

Her eyes widened. “Mr. DeLuca, I’ll definitely check into getting you a full refund. I’m truly sorry for the inconvenience.”

He glanced around at the historic mansion. His gaze scaled up the rounded staircase, taking in the stained-glass window on the landing. There had to be room somewhere—even if it took a bit of juggling.

“Since you’ve already accepted my money and this place looks spacious enough, I am sure you can set up accommodations for me until this wedding is over.” He flashed her one of his camera-ready smiles. “After all, I traveled a long way to get here. Now I expect you to hold up your end of the arrangement.”

Her lush lips pressed into a firm line as though she were considering her options before speaking. “Why don’t you follow me into the lobby while I clear up this snafu?”

Without another word the spitfire strode away. Her well-rounded hips sashayed from side to side like the metronome from the days when he’d been forced to take piano lessons. Only the swing of her backside mesmerized him in a way the silly rhythm keeper from his childhood never did. He stared at her until she disappeared back down the hallway.

Alex gave himself a mental jerk. He couldn’t let himself get distracted—no matter how beautiful the distraction. He had a job to do. A mission to complete. His sole duty was to protect the crown of the Mirraccino Islands from a messy scandal—one that would most certainly rock not only the palace walls but also the entire nation.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_3775376a-b31e-5bb1-bb0e-258195ea7a69)

REESE HARDING STRODE to the back of the mansion, trying not to let the tall, dark stranger get under her skin. All the while, she ignored the prickling sensation at the back of her neck. Let him stare. She wasn’t going to go all soft because he was drop-dead gorgeous and his mere touch made her fingers tingle.

Her gut told her that he was used to getting what he wanted—when he wanted—but it wasn’t going to happen today. There honestly was no room. And by the way he could make her heart race with just a look, it was for the best.

Reese marched into the office just off the kitchen. She suspected that her mother had accepted his reservation. If that were the case, Reese might very well have a legitimate problem. And she’d have no one to blame but herself. When her mother had finally come out of the dark place she had disappeared to after Reese’s father unexpectedly died, she had been so excited to see her mother’s desire to help with the inn that perhaps she’d let her mother have too much freedom.

“Hey, honey.” Her mother peered in from the kitchen. “What are you doing? You just tracked a trail of snow over my clean floors.”

“Sorry.” Reese continued rummaging through the stacks of bills and correspondence on top of the big oak desk. “I need to find something.”

“Can I help?” Her mother’s face lit up. “I’m feeling like my old self now and would really like to be more helpful around here. I could organize the office for you.”

“Mom, we talked about this. I like it the way it is. I can usually find what I’m looking for.” And she would this time, too, if Mr. DeLuca didn’t have her all flustered. “Besides, we don’t want to rush things. You’re doing so well and all, I just don’t want—”

“I know, honey.” Her mother patted her back. “It’s just nice to be needed. So what are you looking for?”

“There’s some guy waiting in the foyer claiming to have a reservation for tonight. Do you recall taking a phone call from an Alex something or other?”

Her mother’s graying head tilted to the side. “I’m not sure. A lot has been happening around here lately.”

Reese stopped shuffling through the papers in the organizer and looked directly at her mother. “This is important. Think real hard. Did you take a reservation from a man with a foreign accent?”

Her mother’s forehead crinkled. “When would he have called?”

“Last week.” Reese grabbed another stack of papers, looking for anything that would confirm that man’s words.

“Seems to me I might recall speaking to someone with a foreign accent. I remember because the connection wasn’t very good.”

“Really? You remember him?”

“If I took his reservation, the money will be in the computer.”

Her mother was right. She was wasting her time searching through all of those papers. She could pop on the computer and confirm Alex’s deposit had been made. She pushed a button to start the computer.

“I’ll leave you alone to figure things out.” Her mother made a beeline for the door.

Reese logged into the resort’s financial account. There was indeed a deposit—a huge deposit. Surely she’d misread the amount. Even after she blinked and refocused, the same enormous dollar figure remained. Her heart picked up its pace as excitement coursed through her veins. There was more than enough cash here to rent out the entire mansion for a month.

She then checked the inn’s online reservation system. There was no mention of Mr. DeLuca. How was that possible?

After some quick sleuthing, she determined that her mother had bypassed the online reservation system and taken his information over the phone manually. Oh, what a mess! She’d have to sit her mother down and have a firm talk about procedures so they could avoid these issues in the future.

Still, this influx of cash was just what they needed to pay the upcoming tax bill, not to mention the bank loan. Calm down. You’re getting ahead of yourself.

It wasn’t like she could accept his money. She didn’t have one single room to offer him. All she could do was offer Mr. Sexy Accent a full refund and hope he’d go away quietly.

But nothing about the man said he’d easily back off from what he wanted. Everything from the man’s every-strand-in-its-place dark hair to his tailored white shirt that covered an obviously buff chest and down to his polished dress shoes said he was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted and the way he wanted it.

Nonetheless, she didn’t have the ability to accommodate him, much less the obviously large party that he planned to host. With a weary sigh, she grabbed the checkbook to write out the refund. The pen hovered over the check and her grip tightened as she thought of turning away all of that money.

She wrote out his name and the amount. Life wasn’t fair. In the past year or so, with the economic downturn, she’d had a hard time attracting people to The Willows and now she was having to turn away this obviously affluent guest because of a clerical error.

She really did feel bad for him. Then a thought occurred to her. The least she should do was help this man locate some other reasonable accommodations.

Armed with the check and her address book, she returned to the foyer. Upon finding her mother and Mr. DeLuca conversing in lowered voices, she paused by the staircase. Neither of them seemed to notice her presence. What in the world was her mother saying that was so engrossing? The man rocked back on his heels and laughed. The sound was deep and rich.

When she stepped off the carpeted runner and onto the dark, polished wood floor, her boots made a sound. Both her mother and Mr. DeLuca turned her way. Reese’s hold on the sizable check tightened. It was best to get this over with quickly.

The man caught her gaze with his deep blue eyes. She was struck by their vibrant color, but beyond that they told her nothing of the man’s thoughts. Talk about a poker face. What sort of things did this international hunk keep hidden from the rest of the world? And what twist of fate had brought him to her doorstep?

The rise of his brows had her averting her gaze, but not before her pulse spiked, causing her heart to flutter. Why was she so intrigued by this stranger? So what if he came from another land and had the sexiest way of rolling his Rs? He was still just a guy and she wouldn’t let herself want something that she knew could never be. Her attention needed to remain on the mansion and keeping it afloat.

“Ah, there’s my daughter.” Her mother leaned toward Mr. DeLuca as though they were old friends. “I’m sure she’ll have cleared everything up for you. It was nice to meet you. I hope we can talk again.” Her mother’s eyes twinkled as a mischievous grin played across her lips.

Once they were alone, Reese pulled her shoulders back. “Mr. DeLuca, I’ve verified your reservation and I must apologize for the inconvenience this has caused you. My mother made a mistake when she gave you the reservation. She didn’t realize that we already had a prior commitment.”

The man remained silent, not appearing the least bit interested in helping her out of this awkward situation. She held out the hefty check, but he didn’t make any attempt to accept it.

“This is the full amount you paid. I double-checked.” When he still didn’t move, she added, “The check will cover your full deposit.”

“I don’t want it.”

“What? Of course you do. That’s a lot of money.”

Tired of playing word games, she stepped up to him and stuffed the check in his hand. For the second time in less than an hour, his touch caused a jolt of awareness to shock her nerve endings.

Her gaze lifted and she noticed his eyes were bloodshot, as though he’d been up all night. Then she noticed the lines bracketing his eyes and the dark shadow of beard trailing down his squared jaw. She was tempted to reach up and run her fingertips over the stubble.

She clamped her hands together. “If you’d like, I have the phone numbers of other facilities around the city that might be able to accommodate your party—”

“That won’t be necessary,” he said firmly. “I am staying here as arranged.”

“But—”

“There are no more buts. I am staying.” He pressed the check back into her hand. “And don’t tell me again that there is no room. Your mother informed me otherwise.”

“She did what?”

He sent her a knowing smile. “She told me there’s a bedroom available. It’s in some private apartment until one of the guest rooms opens up.”

What in the world had gotten into her mother? Sure, she used to be impulsive back before the disaster with Reese’s father, but since then she’d been so reserved, so quiet. Now she was getting active in the inn, which was great, but why in the world was she handing out her daughter’s bedroom to this total stranger?

Reese shook her head, trying to dispel the image of this tall, dark, smooth-talking stranger in her bed. “She shouldn’t have done that, not without talking to me.”

His voice softened. “She seemed certain you wouldn’t mind. After all, it’s only until the other guests check out.”

“But that’s days away. They aren’t leaving until Monday.” And the apartment was so small that they’d be bumping into each other, day and...night. She swallowed hard.

At that moment, approaching footsteps sounded on the stairs. Relieved at the interruption, Reese turned away. Sandy, in her blue-and-white maid’s uniform, descended the steps with her dark brown ponytail swinging back and forth. The young woman’s eyes lit up when they landed on their latest guest. It would appear that being left in the lurch by the father of her child wasn’t enough to make Sandy immune to Mr. DeLuca’s charming smile.

“Do you need something, Sandy?” Reese asked, hoping the girl would quit openly ogling the man.

Sandy came to a stop next to them. “I...uh...finished cleaning all of the rooms.” She tore her gaze from Mr. DeLuca and turned to Reese. “Do you need anything else today? I don’t mind staying longer.”

“Thanks. But we’re good. Enjoy your evening off.”

“Um...sure. Thank you.” Sandy almost tripped over her own feet as she kept glancing over her shoulder at Mr. DeLuca.

Reese turned back to him, refusing to let his tanned features, mesmerizing blue gaze and engaging smile turn her into a starstruck teenager. “Where were we?”

“We had just resolved my accommodations until the wedding party checks out. Now, if you’ll show me to my room.”

She pressed her lips firmly together, holding back her response until she gave it some thought. The truth was most women would probably stumble over themselves to have this hunk of a man sleep in their bed. But she wasn’t most women. Men couldn’t be trusted—no matter how well you thought you knew them.

But this arrangement was all about business—nothing more. What was a few nights on their old, lumpy couch? As it was, she didn’t sleep all that much anymore. The concerns about meeting this month’s payroll on top of the loan payment kept her tossing and turning most nights.

“I must warn you that the room is nothing special. In fact, it’s rather plain.”

“Is it clean?”

She nodded. The linens had just been changed that morning. “But I’m certain it won’t be up to the standards you’re used to or even the normal standards of The Willows. And...and—”

“And what?”

She shook her head. “Nothing important.”

She couldn’t bring herself to let on that it bothered her to share her tiny apartment with him. And no matter how much she reminded herself that it was business, it still felt personal having him slide between her sheets and lay his head on her pillow. Her pulse picked up its pace. Her gaze strayed to his bare ring finger before she realized her actions and refocused on a nondescript spot just over his left shoulder.

Maybe if he wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous she wouldn’t be overreacting. But for the first time since she’d started the inn, her hormones were standing up and taking a definite interest in a man. Not that he’d be interested in a college dropout like herself—even if quitting school hadn’t been a choice but rather a necessity.

He looked pointedly at her. “If you have something else on your mind, you might as well get it out in the open now.”

Heat crept up her neck as her fingers tightened around the check. No way was she confessing to her nonprofessional thoughts. “I was just concerned about where the rest of your party would be staying.”

“There’s no one else coming. I am the only guest.”

“Just you?” Her gaze moved to the check that was now a bit wrinkled. “But this deposit covers all six rooms.”

“I am a man who values his privacy.”

That or he was so filthy rich that he didn’t have the common sense God gave a flea. But hey, who was she to argue with some sheikh or eccentric recluse?

But the money in her hand came with some sticky strings. She’d have to open her home up to him for five days and four nights. She suddenly regretted not doing more with the upkeep of the apartment. But her limited funds had to go toward the debts her father had left as her inheritance. Soon the creditors would be calling and she wasn’t sure what she would tell them.

She glanced up at the staircase and balcony with the large stained-glass window. Her mother’s family had owned the mansion for generations. She didn’t want to think about the tailspin her mother would go into if they had to turn this place over to the bank—not now that her mother had almost recovered from her father’s deception. So if it took bunking with this man to secure the necessary funds, she didn’t see where she had much choice in the matter.

“Well, Mr. DeLuca, it looks like you’ve rented yourself a mansion.”

What would it be like having a sexy roommate? Did he sleep in boxers? Or perhaps in the buff? And more importantly, did he walk in his sleep? Heat swirled in her chest and rushed up her neck. After all, a glimpse wouldn’t hurt anyone.

The lines on the man’s tanned face eased and a hint of a smile played at the corners of his full lips. “Now that we’re housemates, you may call me Alex.”

She wasn’t so sure getting personal with him would help her roving thoughts, but she wasn’t about to turn away his kindness. “And you can call me Reese.”

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_3a383f21-f155-5cdf-bbbf-6ee18422a73d)

THIS WAS WHERE he was to stay?