A Princess By Christmas. Jennifer Faye

      “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

      THIS WAS WHERE he was to stay?

      Alex followed Reese into the tiny apartment. He wondered who lived here or if it was just kept as a spare unit. Although seeing the older furniture and the coziness of the place, it didn’t resemble any of the inn’s photos he’d observed online. This place definitely wasn’t meant for guests.

      Reese swung open the door to a small bedroom. “This is where you can sleep.”

      He stepped up behind her in the doorway and peered over her shoulder. The decorations consisted of miniature teddy bears of all colors and designs. He’d never seen so many stuffed animals in one room. It was definitely interesting decor.

      The most important feature was that it had a place for him to sleep. In the middle of the room stood a double bed sporting a royal-blue duvet with white throw pillows. Definitely nothing fancy, but at this point it didn’t matter. He didn’t think he could take one more step.

      And to be honest, staying in these private quarters, as primitive as they were, would only make him that much harder to find. It’d been way too easy to tease the press with a juicy morsel of information about how he’d lost his heart to an American. But what no one knew was that he wanted no part of the L word. He’d witnessed firsthand how devastating it could be when you’ve lost the one person you loved with all of your heart. He refused to let himself become that vulnerable.

      “Dinner is at six.” Reese backed out of the doorway. “Do you need anything else?”

      He stepped past her and hefted his suitcase onto the bed. “Your mother mentioned the room has a private bath.”

      Reese’s brows rose sharply. “She was mistaken.”

      “I don’t think so. She sounded quite certain.”

      Reese crossed her arms and tilted her head until their gazes met. “Well, she was mistaken, because she was talking about her room and she’s not about to give it up to you or anyone.”

      “You seem very protective of your mother.”

      “She’s all I’ve got in this world.” And without another word, Reese turned and left.

      Alex stood there staring at the now empty doorway, mentally comparing the image of the smiling older woman with the very serious young woman who seemed less than happy to have him here. There was a definite resemblance between the two as far as looks went, but the similarities stopped there. He rubbed the back of his neck before stretching. He was probably making too much of the first meeting. He’d see things clearer in the morning.

      At last, he gave in to the urge for a great big yawn. The unpacking could wait. After being in transit for much longer than he cared to remember, it’d feel so good to lie down and rest. Just for a moment. After all, it was almost dinnertime.

      He leaned his head back against the pillow. Maybe this trip wasn’t going to be as bad as he’d imagined. For the time being, he could be a normal person without people looking at him with preconceived notions of what a royal should say or do. For just a bit, he’d be plain old Alex. A regular citizen. A mere tourist. Something he’d never been in his whole life.

      * * *

      The next morning, Alex awoke with his street clothes still on. He’d only meant to lie down for a moment. His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t even made it to dinner. Then the events of the prior evening started to play in his mind.

      He groaned as he recalled how in his exhausted state he’d been less than gentlemanly, demanding to have his way. He scratched at his two—or was it now a three?—day-old beard. He definitely owed Reese an apology.

      After a hot shower and a much-needed shave, he started to unpack. He moved to the dresser and pulled out a drawer. He froze when he spotted a light pink lacy bra. What in the world?

      His gaze moved to the right, finding a matching pair of undies. They weren’t much more than a scrap of lace with a couple of pink strings. Immediately the image of Reese came to mind. This must be her bedroom. And these were her things. He slammed the drawer shut, but it was too late. His imagination had kicked into overdrive.

      Not only had he been unfriendly last evening, but he’d even stolen her bed right out from under her. He groaned. He wasn’t so sure an apology was going to be enough to earn his way into her good graces.

      He removed a pair of jeans and a sweater from his suitcase—the clothes he’d borrowed from his brother. They were more casual than his normal wardrobe, but this trip called for a very casual appearance. He and his fraternal twin, the Crown Prince Demetrius Castanavo, still wore the same size. Not that his brother would even notice the missing clothes, much less care about them. He had more important things on his mind at the moment.

      Alex’s next task was styling his temporarily darkened hair. He didn’t want anyone to recognize him too soon. Let the paparazzi continue with their hunt. After all, the fun was in the chase. And it’d take them awhile to find him in this out-of-the-way inn.

      As he worked the styling gel into his hair, he mulled over his brother’s situation. He sympathized with Demetrius. The thought of being responsible not only for the royal family but also for an entire nation was, to say the least, a bit overwhelming. He just hoped Demetrius would come to terms with his inherited position as crown prince and not cause any further incidents—such as the potential scandal everyone was working so hard to cover up.

      Next Alex added some saline drops to his eyes to refresh the colored contacts similar to the ones he’d used while he’d been on vacation a few months back. He blinked a couple of times, then inspected his image in the mirror. A smile pulled at his lips. For today, he was no longer Prince Alexandro. He was just plain, ordinary Alex. But first he had some royal business to attend to.

      He stepped into the living room and heard a knock at the door. A man handed him a tray of food and Alex’s mouth watered. It’d been a long time since he’d been this hungry. He thanked the man and barely got seated on the couch before he took his first big bite.

      After finishing every last drop of the herb soup and devouring the turkey sandwich, he logged on to his computer. He scanned one news site and then another and another. His plan wasn’t working.