A Princess Under The Mistletoe. Leanne Banks

to myself.”

      Sara’s heart softened. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so adamant. “Perhaps, I could play something on the piano in the meantime. I may be a little rusty, though,” she warned him.

      Gavin glanced at her and nodded. “Yeah. That would be great.”

      Sara went to the den and ran her fingers over the keys, then she began to play an upbeat elementary piece by Bach—Minuet in G. She played until the end and found Sam standing beside the piano staring at her. Up to this point, she’d been so busy when both children had been in the house that she hadn’t played for Sam. “A little Beethoven? How about “Ode to Joy”? Much better with a full orchestra, but I’ll do my best,” she said as she started playing the piece.

      Aware of several blunders, she soldiered through and took a deep breath.

      She turned and found Sam and Gavin, who was holding Adelaide, staring at her in amazement. “I thought you said you’d taken a few lessons.”

      “I did,” she said. “Was it that bad?”

      Gavin shook his head and chuckled. “Bad was not a word that came to mind. Are you sure you’re not a professional?”

      Sara shrugged. “In the arts, the word professional is relative. I’m far from the best.” She smiled. “You enjoyed it?”

      “I did,” Gavin said. Adelaide kicked in approval. “Adelaide did. What about you, Sam?”

      Sam stared at Sara as if she’d suddenly gained magical powers. Or a third head. He glanced at the piano, then at her. Then he nodded.

      “Time for dinner?” Sara asked, wanting to divert attention away from herself.

      Gavin nodded and grinned, oozing a masculine charm that made her feel a strange tingle inside. “I didn’t burn the sandwiches.”

      Sara fed Adelaide carrots while she, Gavin and Sam munched on their sandwiches, soup and chips. It was a meal mostly devoid of nutrition, but satisfying. Adelaide spit out a spoonful of carrots, but it only hit the tray.

      “Yes, Your Highness, we are done,” Sara said and put the carrots aside. “We must all learn from our mistakes, and strained peas are the worst,” she said to Gavin.

      He shot her a look of commiseration.

      Sara squeezed Adelaide’s sweet cheeks and the baby smiled. “She’s clearly not underfed,” Sara said, then met Gavin’s gaze. “You’re a good father.”

      Gavin took a swift breath. “That’s debatable.”

      “Not by me,” she said. She wiped off Adelaide’s face. “Would you like to give your princess a bottle and put her to bed tonight? Sam and I can read.”

      “Good idea,” Gavin said. “Thank you for coming home early.”

      Sara took Sam to the den and read the same book three times. Sam kept eyeing the piano, but Sara thought she should keep the house quiet since it was bedtime. She read the same book again and Gavin came to collect his son.

      “Ready for bed, big guy?” he asked.

      Sam jumped up from the sofa and leaped into Gavin’s arms. Sara sighed as Gavin carried his son to bed.

      Sara usually went to bed when the children did, but this time she put in her earbuds and listened to music while she rested on the sofa. Moments later, Gavin appeared, sitting beside her.

      She inhaled his clean, masculine scent and decided it was a bit intoxicating. “Hi,” she said, pulling out her earbuds. “Did Sam settle down?”

      “He settles down much more easily since you donated your sound machine,” he said.

      “I’m glad it helped him,” she said, thinking of how she missed the waves, but she wouldn’t tell Gavin that.

      “We swiped it from you,” he said. “I keep intending to get you a replacement.”

      “No problem,” she said, and she waved her hand. “Wearing out your children is the best insomnia relief ever.”

      “I don’t know if that’s a good thing,” he said.

      “A good night of sleep is always a wonderful thing,” she said, unable to count the number of sleepless nights she’d suffered during the past year.

      “I guess so,” he said and looked toward her. “As I said the other day, I really wasn’t sure you would last more than a day or two. You just seemed so young.”

      “I’m small, but mighty,” she joked.

      “I’m starting to think that may be true. You’ve been full of surprises, though. Some secrets in your background. You put on a happy face, but I’ve seen a few moments of sadness in your eyes.”

      Nerves jangled in her stomach. She didn’t know she’d given so much away. She thought she’d put on a good front. “You’re very observant,” she said. “I think most of us have experienced sadness by my age. I try not to dwell on it.”

      “Was it the loss of your parents?” he asked.

      “That was painful, but there has been an avalanche of other issues and events that have been life-changing for my sister and brother since that time. Our future became uncertain,” she said, her heart squeezing with the pain of worry over her sister and brother. She just wanted them to be safe, and if at all possible, happy.

      Gavin squeezed her shoulder. “I wish you could see your eyes. They look stormy and a little afraid. You know you’re safe here, don’t you?”

      Sara took a deep breath. He’d nailed her emotions, making her feel uncomfortably vulnerable. At the same time, his hand on her shoulder was so comforting and the expression on his face was an exquisite combination of kindness and male strength. It would be so easy to give in to that. Too easy.

      The moment stretched between them, and Sara knew she should turn away. But Gavin was compelling and she’d been strong a long time. He lowered his head toward hers and pressed his mouth against hers. His lips felt warm and sensual. Sara felt a wicked forbidden heat rush through her. His hands slid up to cup her jaw and the touch exuded both comfort and seduction. She’d never experienced that combination before and she couldn’t help wanting more. Leaning toward him, she opened her mouth and he deepened the kiss. A ripple of awareness hummed through her.

      “Daddy?”

      Sam’s little-boy voice broke the spell and Sara pulled back, appalled by her susceptibility to Gavin. She needed to get herself straight. She needed to get herself under control. She stood because she couldn’t figure what else to do.

      “Hey, big guy, what’s up?” Gavin asked as if he had just been doing lawn work instead of shaking her up from the inside out.

      “Can I have some water?” he asked.

      “Sure,” Gavin said and rose.

      “I’ll get it,” Sara said. “I’d like some water, too. I’m ready to go to bed.”

      “Sara,” Gavin began.

      “No. Really,” she insisted. She darted for the kitchen and poured water for Sam and herself. She returned to the den and offered the cup to Sam. “Here you go, sweetie. Good night to both of you,” she said without meeting Gavin’s gaze. And then she rushed to her room and closed the door.

      Taking several deep breaths, she stood in the room and covered her face. What was wrong with her? During the past ten years, Sara had never put her needs before her duties. Never. She couldn’t mess things up for her siblings now. Chantaine had offered them a safe place. She couldn’t jeopardize that for her sister or brother even if her brother was nowhere to be found, and her sister was doing God knew what with God knew who.

      She made a quick trip to the bathroom, splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth, then returned to her