A Princess Under The Mistletoe. Leanne Banks

wiggled inside the baby carrier strapped to Gavin’s chest and kicked her chubby little legs. She was almost too big for it, but they’d left in a rush and since she was putting everything in her mouth, he suspected there was no way he’d be able to keep her from ingesting sand, shells and rocks.

      “Adelaide really wants free, doesn’t she?” Sara said, smiling as her hair blew in the breeze.

      “Yeah. I’m just not prepared to dig sand out of her mouth,” he said. “Trust me. It would be a real mood killer.”

      Sara nodded and closed her eyes as she lifted her head. “The ocean makes everything better.”

      “Unless it involves a tsunami or hurricane,” he said.

      “Feeling a little cynical?” she asked.

      Yeah, he thought, but didn’t say it aloud. Instead he took a deep breath of the salt-scented air and then another. He felt his insides stretch open a bit. Gavin had felt tight and stiff for a long time. He’d had to stay tight in order to hold everything together. Everything had been so sad. His kids had lost their mother. His wife had lost her life. He had no right to breathe easy. He had no right to even a moment of happiness. Taking another breath, he almost felt a little sore at the expansion of his lungs.

      “Maybe we should step into the water like Sam,” she encouraged. “Maybe it will make us feel better.”

      “You make it sound like a baptism,” he said.

      “Maybe it is,” she said. She took off her shoes and barely stepped into the water. She let out a little squeal and glanced over her shoulder. “Give me a minute to get used to it.”

      Gavin watched her take a few more steps into the water. She was an odd combination of characteristics. Pretty in a quiet way, she looked young for her years. At the same time, he saw glimpses of an old soul in her eyes. Gavin smirked at himself. Old soul. Was he getting poetic about the nanny?

      Shaking off his dour attitude, he ditched his shoes and walked toward Sam and Sara. He stepped into the water and felt the initial shock of the chill. He waited for the magic. No dramatic wave rushed through him. He just felt a little lighter.

      “It’s strange, but it feels good, doesn’t it?” Sara said more than asked.

      “I guess,” he said. “Sam, you’re not getting drenched, are you?”

      “No,” Sam said, but he kept wandering farther into the water.

      “Don’t go any farther,” Gavin called. “You might step into a hole. I don’t want you going in over your head.”

      “Okay,” Sam said, walking in circles and staring at his feet.

      “He loves it,” Sara said. “I’d like to bring him down here more often, but I’m not sure I could watch both of them at the same time.”

      Gavin nodded. “I’ll try to make more time for it. It definitely takes two adults with these kids. So when did you fall in love with the ocean?”

      “I grew up in a landlocked region, but we often took vacations on the shore. It was one of the few times we could count on being with our parents. Although there was always a nanny or two along.”

      “Sounds like you didn’t spend much time with your parents when you were growing up,” he said, curious about her background.

      “I didn’t,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “My father’s business required a lot of social engagements, so my parents traveled more than they stayed home.”

      “Hmm,” he said. “What about sports games and programs at school? Did they show up for those events?”

      She shrugged. “Occasionally. We were always cared for, but we were also raised to be independent. But enough about—” She broke off. “Sam!”

      Panic rushed through him. Gavin glanced in the direction of his son. He’d barely taken his eyes off him, but Sam was now up to his shoulders in the water. Gavin ran toward his son with Sara rushing beside him. He grabbed one of Sam’s arms and pulled him closer to shore.

      “I told you not to go any farther into the ocean,” Gavin scolded, his heart hammering.

      “I wanted to be in the waves,” Sam said. “I didn’t get my face wet.”

      “One more step and you could have,” Gavin said.

      Sam hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

      Sara squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “Of course you are. And I’m sure you’ll be more careful next time. You don’t want to frighten your father and me. The ocean can be tricky even for experienced swimmers. Have you had swimming lessons?”

      Sam shook his head.

      Sara met Gavin’s gaze. “Perhaps we can add that to the schedule.”

      Gavin nodded. “Good idea. I should have thought of it before now.”

      “You’ve had a lot on your mind. But even after your swimming lessons, you always need to have a buddy,” she said firmly. She then gave both Gavin and Sam a once-over.

      He couldn’t resist returning the favor. Her rolled-up jeans were plastered to her body and the shirt under her jacket had gotten a big splash, making it transparent. He would have to be blind not to notice the little lacy bra she wore and the way her nipples pressed against the light covering. The sight grabbed at his gut and lower. He felt an odd rumble of awareness and want. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to get aroused, and he wasn’t going to start today, he told himself. He tore his gaze from her body, but an unwelcome restlessness still rippled through him and his mouth watered with the forbidden idea of tasting her, starting with her lips and working all the way down the rest of her body.

      “We weren’t prepared for a full-out swim today, but it looks like we got one anyway,” she said with a wry laugh.

      “Can’t disagree. Next time we’ll be better prepared,” he said, but he couldn’t help wondering how he was going to rein in his imagination if Sara was wearing a bathing suit instead of being fully clothed.

      * * *

      Sara gave Adelaide a bath and put the baby in her crib with a few toys while Gavin helped Sam with his shower. Afterward, she managed a quick shower, too. Piling her damp hair on her head, Sara picked up Adelaide and headed for the kitchen.

      Gavin was heating soup and grilling sandwiches. “I’m not that good in the kitchen, but I make a mean grilled cheese.”

      “Ah, American comfort food,” she said, nodding.

      “How did you know?” he asked.

      “I once had an American nanny,” she said. “I also learned about peanut butter and jelly from her, although European peanut butter doesn’t compare to the American version.”

      “Tell me about it,” Gavin said. “I should have stocked up before we came to Chantaine.”

      “So true. Shall I help? I can stir the soup,” she said, thinking how attractive he looked standing next to the stove with his ruffled hair and broad shoulders. He wasn’t nearly as refined as the men with whom she usually spent time, although heaven knew she hadn’t had much time to spend with anyone. She’d been dedicated to piano perfection from such an early age. Her parents and royal advisors had told her the country would always be proud of her abilities and performances.

      So much for that. She and her siblings had been tossed aside like rubbish. Sara wondered if she should have tried for a career in engineering. Much more practical, she supposed.

      Thoughts about her country made her feel troubled and itchy inside. She wiggled her fingers. Music had always provided her with solace. “I haven’t noticed music around the house. I have music stored on my cell phone, but no speakers.”

      “Speakers,” he echoed as if it were a foreign