A Princess By Christmas

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“Trying to get these lights to work. I need to replace the lightbulbs—one by one. Someday I’ll have to buy new strings, but not this year.” They would light up—even if she had to sit here all night exchanging the little bulbs. “What do you need?”

“I finished with my work and wondered if I could lend you a hand.”

“You spend a lot of time on your computer, don’t you?”

“It’s a portable office. It allows me to work from anywhere.”

She pulled out another bulb and replaced it with one she was certain worked. Still the strand remained dark. “So this isn’t a holiday for you?”

“I would rather keep busy. I am not good at sitting around doing nothing.” He knelt down beside her. “Let me have a try.”

She glanced at him, surprised anyone would voluntarily offer to fix Christmas lights. Before he had a chance to change his mind, she held out the strand to him. “Good luck.”

He moved closer. His warm fingers brushed over hers. His touch lingered, sending an electrical current up her arm. The reaction frazzled her common sense. She stared into his eyes as her heart pounded in her ears. He was the first to turn away. A sense of disappointment plagued her.

Regaining her senses, she jumped to her feet. She took a step back, hoping to keep her wits about her. She’d been avoiding him since that awkward moment with Santa—er, that man at the tree lot. Why the man had assumed they were a couple was beyond her. It wasn’t as if she looked at Alex with dreamy eyes. Okay, so maybe she just had. But it was just for a moment. And it wasn’t as if she was truly interested in him.

But then Alex had continued the conversation in the truck. What was that all about? She still wasn’t certain if he had just been joking around or if he’d been hitting on her. At least she’d set him straight—a relationship wasn’t in her plans. She refused to be lied to by another man.

Alex pushed a small lightbulb into the socket. Nothing lit up. “I don’t smell any food cooking. That’s a first. This place always has the most delicious aromas.”

In that moment, she realized in her exuberance to let everyone have the evening off that she hadn’t thought about dinner. And she didn’t have a good history with the stove. Anything she put near it burned—to a crisp.

“I’m afraid that I let the staff have the evening off. With the wedding party gone for the evening and the holidays approaching, I thought they would enjoy some time off. So I’m not sure what to do for dinner, as I’m an utter disaster in the kitchen.”

“It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. In fact, simple sounds good.”

Against her better judgment, she was starting to like this guy. “How simple were you thinking? I can work the microwave, but that’s about it.”

His brow arched as amusement danced in his eyes.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. A person can’t be good at everything. So how about a frozen dinner?”

His tanned nose curled up. “Or we could order a pizza?” He loosened a bulb from the strand. “They do deliver here, don’t they?”

She nodded. “I’ll check to see if my mother will join us. I’ll be right back with the menus.”

She rushed out of the room and up the stairs to the little apartment that she’d been sharing with her mother since her father’s death two years ago, when her life had changed from that of a carefree college student with the whole world ahead of her to a college dropout, striving to keep a roof over her brokenhearted mother’s head.

Not that she would have ever made any other choice. Her mother had always been there for her—she’d made her smile and wiped her tears. Now it was Reese’s turn to pitch in and help. That’s what families did—took care of each other.

“Hey, Mom,” Reese called out, bursting through the door of their apartment. “How do you feel about—”

The words died in her throat as she noticed her mother sitting before a tiny Christmas tree on the coffee table. It was lit up and had a few ornaments on it. What in the world? Where had it come from?

Her mother was staring at it as if she were lost in her thoughts. Was she thinking about the past? Was her mother remembering how Reese used to beg her father for her very own Christmas tree?

The memories Reese had been suppressing for so long came rushing back. The image of her father’s joyful smile as he held a tiny pine tree in his hand had her chest tightening. Back then he’d call her his little princess, and she’d thought the sun rose and set around him. How very wrong she’d been.

“Mom?” Her voice croaked. She swallowed hard and stepped closer to her mother. “Are you okay?”

Her mother blinked and glanced up at her. “I’m fine. But I’m glad you’re here. I just had a phone call and your aunt isn’t doing well.”

Relieved to find that her mother wasn’t sinking back into that miserable black hole where she seemed virtually unreachable, Reese asked, “What’s wrong with Aunt Min?”

“She’s having a hard time adjusting since Uncle Roger passed on. That was her neighbor and she agreed to come pick me up. I know with the holiday approaching and the wedding this weekend that this is the wrong time to be leaving you alone, but no one knows your aunt as well as me.”

Reese wasn’t so sure about her mother leaving to comfort someone who was grieving. She knew for a fact it was not an easy position to be in. But her mother appeared to be determined, and she supposed there was nothing she could say to change her mind.

“What can I do for you?” Reese asked, ready to pitch in.

“Absolutely nothing. You already have your hands full here.” Her mother gave her a hug. “I’ve got to pack before my ride gets here.”

Her mother was headed for the bedroom when Reese called out, “Mom, where did the tree come from?”

“Alex. He thought you might like it.”

Her mother disappeared into her bedroom and Reese turned. The long-forgotten handmade ornaments on the little tree caught her eye.

Well, if he was so interested in having a Christmas tree, he could have it in his room—er, her room. She unplugged the lights, carried the tree to the bedroom and pushed aside her collection of miniature teddy bears—some that were as old as she was and some that were antiques collected from her grandmother and yard sales.

She’d always planned to update the room, but once she’d formally withdrawn from college, she’d packed up her apartment and put everything in storage. There wasn’t time to worry about knickknacks when there was an entire inn to run. And now she was just too tired after working and smiling at the guests all day to be worried about redecorating a room where she barely spent any time.

She glanced at the bed with its comforter haphazardly pulled up. She imagined Alex sleeping in it. There was something so intimate about knowing that the Mediterranean hunk was sprawled out in her bed. Just as quickly as the thought came to her, she vanquished it.

He was a man—not to be trusted. And he’d only gone and confirmed her thoughts when he went against her wishes with the little Christmas tree—even if it had been an effort to be considerate. Conflicting emotions churned in her stomach. Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone?

Not needing or wanting the aggravation, she pulled the door closed on the room. And that’s exactly what she needed to do with Alex—close the door on this thing that was bubbling just beneath the surface.

* * *

He’d put this off long enough.

Alex retrieved his phone from his pocket. It was time to let the king know that he was safe. In return, hopefully he would have good news as well. Perhaps this mess with his brother, the crown prince, had been quietly resolved. Then Alex could pack his bags and catch the first flight home—away from his beautiful hostess, who muddled his thoughts and had him losing focus on his priorities.