A Princess By Christmas. Jennifer Faye

to up the stakes if he wanted to gain the press’s fleeting attention. Uncomfortable with the idea of throwing out a juicy bit of information, he nonetheless started typing a note from a fictitious palace employee to a popular internet gossip site about his recent “activities.” This was the only way to keep them from sniffing out the truth—the scandal that was his brother’s life. He just wondered what lengths he’d have to go to in order to keep up this charade.

      He was able to keep working into the afternoon and catch up on some important emails related to Mirraccino’s shipping commerce. Once he’d pressed the send button on the last email, he made his way downstairs. He’d just found his way to the kitchen when Reese came rushing out of it carrying a stepstool. All bundled up in her coat and fuzzy pink earmuffs, she came to a halt when she noticed him blocking the hallway.

      “Good afternoon.” Her voice was cool and there was no hint of a smile on her face.

      This would be so much easier if he hadn’t stumbled upon her skimpy undies. Even now he wondered if she had on a matching blue set. Or perhaps she preferred deep purple. Or maybe they were polka-dotted.

      “Could you move aside? I was on my way out the door.”

      He gave himself a mental jerk. He wasn’t ready for her to go—not yet. “I smell something delicious. The aroma wafted the whole way upstairs. What is it?”

      She lowered the collapsible stool to the floor and leaned it against her leg. “It’s homemade marinara sauce. But it’s not ready yet. If you want to make yourself comfortable in the living room just off the foyer, I’ll make sure someone lets you know when dinner is served.”

      “Do you want to join me?”

      “I can’t. I’m headed outside to do some work.” She hefted the silver stool.

      “But I wanted to speak with you.”

      “Can it wait? I have a couple of things I need to do before dinner.”

      “Of course.” He kept what he hoped was an impartial expression on his face. “It’s not urgent. May I help you?”

      She shook her head. “I’ve got it.”

      As she headed for the front door, an uneasy feeling came over him. The ladder looked as though it’d seen far better days. Combine that with the ice and snow and it’d undoubtedly add up to trouble. Perhaps this was a way he could earn himself some points with her. But more than that, something told him Reese could use a helping hand—even if she was too stubborn to admit it.

      As it was, he’d never been any good at just sitting around doing nothing. If he’d been at the palace, he’d be busy dealing with one situation or another. His country was quite involved with the exportation of its fine wines and fruit as well as being a shipping mecca. But he had to keep in mind that while he was in New York, he was plain Alex on holiday. Still, that didn’t mean he had to sit around doing nothing.

      He rushed off to grab his coat from the apartment. On the way back down the stairs, he happened upon a young man rushing up the steps, taking them two at a time. The guy had stress marring his face as a distinct frown pulled at his mouth. The guy grunted a hello as he rushed past. Alex couldn’t help but wonder if that was the groom.

      Why in the world did people put themselves through such stressful situations? He had no intention of saying I do any time soon—if ever. He’d seen firsthand how powerful love could be. And when it was over, it left people utterly devastated.

      If he took the plunge it would be for something other than love—something worthwhile. After all, a meaningful union was what was expected of a prince. It was his duty.

      Lost in his thoughts, Alex yanked open the front door. His hand grasped the brass handle on the glass storm door and pushed. At that moment, he saw Reese off to the side. The door bumped into the stool with her on it. The contraption teetered to the side. Reese jumped off just in time.

      “Are you okay?” Alex rushed to her side.

      “I’m fine.” But she didn’t look happy to see him—not that he could blame her.

      “I didn’t expect to find someone standing in front of the door.”

      “It’s my fault, I should have moved over to the side a little more, but I was having problems stringing the lights right above the door.”

      He glanced at them. “They look all right to me.”

      “Look at them from down here.” She led the way into the yard, oblivious of the deepening layer of snow.

      Alex followed her. When he turned back, he found she’d transformed the porch into a beautiful winter scene. There was garland lining the front of the porch. Small artificial pine trees strung with white lights stood guard on either side of the front door. And then there were strands of white twinkle lights the whole way around the porch, giving it a soft glow.

      As Reese stood there puzzling over how to finish stringing the lights, her full lips pursed together. If he were impulsive—like his twin—he might consider stealing a kiss just to see if her lips were as sweet as they looked.

      Alex turned to look out over the quiet street. The thought of kissing her still pulled at his thoughts. Besides probably earning him a slap for his effort, he knew kissing her was the sort of spontaneity that had gotten his brother in a world of trouble. Alex still didn’t understand how the crown prince could elope with a woman he had only known for a handful of weeks. Frustration churned in Alex’s gut. No one would want an impulsive ruler, including Alex himself. That’s why the elopement had to be dealt with immediately and quietly without the encroachment of the press.

      Alex glanced in Reese’s direction to find her big brown eyes studying him. Her gaze was intense and put him off center because it was as if she could see through him—see that he was a fake. Or maybe it was his guilt from not introducing himself properly as the prince of the Mirraccino Islands that had him uneasy.

      But it had to be this way. Keeping his identity hush-hush was of the utmost importance. He didn’t know this woman any better than a person on the street. There was no reason to take her into his confidence and expect her to keep it. To her he was nothing more than a paying customer—end of story.

      Her brow crinkled. “Is something wrong?”

      “Not that I can think of.”

      “Okay. I just thought with you standing out here in the cold instead of inside in the warmth that you must need something important.”

      This was his opening. He didn’t have a lot of practice at apologies and for some reason he really wanted to get this right.

      “There’s something I have to say.” When he had her full attention, he continued. “I am sorry about our first meeting. I was way out of line.”

      There was a flicker of something in her eyes, but in a blink, it was gone. “Apology accepted. But it wasn’t all your fault. You were expecting a room to be waiting for you. No one could blame you for being upset.”

      “But then to kick you out of your own bed—”

      “Don’t worry. I don’t sleep much anyway.”

      Before he could inquire about her last statement, she headed back to the porch to adjust the strand of lights on the banister.

      “What do you think?” Reese returned to his side.

      He didn’t really notice a difference. “Looks much better.”

      “I don’t know.” She crossed her arms and studied the lights strung from one end of the porch to the other. “It’s not perfect, but I guess it’ll have to do.”

      “Do you always decorate so elaborately?”

      She shrugged. “I wouldn’t bother, but each home along Cobblestone Way is expected to light up their homes for the holidays.”

      Reese climbed on the unstable stepstool.