Her Christmas Prince. Catherine Mann

front entrance stood a wide staircase leading halfway to the second level before branching off to either side.

      The butler led her to the right of the foyer and down a carpeted corridor lined with priceless artwork. He paused at one of the closed doors and knocked. When a low, muffled voice bade him enter, he stepped inside, announced Alandra’s presence and then moved aside for her to pass.

      The personal office was decidedly masculine, with a dark area rug, built-in bookshelves lining three of the four walls, and a large cherrywood desk taking up a good portion of the room.

      Dragging her gaze from the impressive surroundings, Alandra turned her attention to the man sitting behind that desk…only to feel her eyes go wide and her mouth fall open.

      “You.”

      “Miss Sanchez.” He rose and regally rounded the desk until he stood directly in front of her. “How good of you to accept my offer and come to work for our family.”

      “You’re Prince Stephan—”

      “Nicolas Braedon of Glendovia, yes. You may call me Nicolas.”

      Nicolas. The same Nicolas who had asked her over for a glass of champagne and then invited her to sleep with him.

      Her mouth went dry with shock, her stomach clenching and her pulse kicking as though she’d just run a marathon.

      How could this be happening?

      “I don’t understand,” she said, her voice faint as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. “Why would you invite me to work for you after the way we parted? All you wanted from me then was…”

      Realization dawned.

      “You did this on purpose. You lured me here under false pretenses so that I would sleep with you.”

      “My dear Miss Sanchez,” he replied, standing straight as a sword, with his hands clasped behind his back, “Glendovia is very much in need of someone to organize its charitable foundations. And, after seeing you in action, I decided you would be the perfect person for the job.”

      “And you’ve changed your mind about wanting me in your bed?” she challenged.

      Nicolas studied the woman in front of him, struggling not to smile at her forthright manner and the fury snapping in her brown, almond-shaped eyes. It was a sight to behold, and only made him more certain of the wisdom of the campaign he’d put in motion.

      Her rejection of him during his stay in America hadn’t dulled his desire for her at all. He had decided, not long after, that since the direct approach hadn’t worked, perhaps he needed to go about attaining his goal in a more subtle way.

      When it came to Alandra Sanchez, it seemed a bit of seduction was in order.

      It had taken him a few days after returning home to land on the idea of asking her to his country for an extended stay. He knew she wouldn’t accept if he merely invited her…or if she knew he was extending the invitation, for that matter.

      But because they had philanthropy in common, he knew that was the one motive that had a chance of catching her attention. There was also the rather generous bonus he’d included in the employment contract as an added incentive—two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to be donated by him to a charity of her choosing once she’d fulfilled her part of the bargain.

      And now she was here, exactly where he wanted her.

      Not that she looked even remotely willing to jump into bed with him at the moment. But as with everything else, that would come.

      He would see to it.

      “I wouldn’t say that,” he murmured, replying to her question about whether or not he’d changed his mind about wanting her in his bed. “But I am certainly capable of separating business from pleasure.”

      Without giving her a chance to argue, he continued. “Come. I’ll show you to your room, where you can unpack and perhaps rest before supper.”

      Dropping his arms to his sides, he stepped around her and crossed the room to open the door.

      “Don’t bother,” she replied curtly behind his back. “I’m not staying.”

      Half turning to face her once again, he maintained a neutral expression. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you are. You signed a contract.”

      “Contract be damned.” She started for the door, her demeanor icy.

      He waited for her to pass, then caught her arm as she marched down the empty hallway. “Are you really willing to deprive one of your favorite charities of a quarter of a million dollars?”

      The reminder stopped her in her tracks, and he pressed his advantage. “If you leave, reneging on the agreement, you forfeit the bonus. Stay through the month of December and you will not only be paid the agreed-upon wage, but will also earn a hefty sum to bestow as you see fit.”

      He could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she weighed her options. Leave, and she would be safe from him; he would have no opportunity to try to lure her into his bed. Stay, and she would be all but walking into the lion’s den, but would also end up earning a quarter of a million dollars to fund one of her pet projects. It was a compelling enticement.

      The seconds ticked by while she stood in the middle of the hall, wracked with indecision. Once again, he chose to give her a small nudge in the direction he wished her to go.

      Moving closer, he placed a hand at the small of her back. She stiffened and pulled away just enough to break the contact.

      “Please,” he said diplomatically, “allow me to show you where you’ll be staying if you elect to remain and fulfill your contract. The family will gather in the dining room for dinner at eight o’clock. I’d like you to be there, if you would, to meet everyone. After that, if you still wish to return to the United States…”

      He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I won’t say I’ll let you go without penalty, but I will be willing to discuss the situation further.”

      For a moment, he thought she would continue her retreat. And then the rigid line of her spine relaxed slightly and her shoulders lifted as she inhaled a deep breath.

      Without turning around, she said, “Fine. I’ll stay through dinner.”

      “Excellent. Come along, then,” he replied, careful not to let his satisfaction show as he stepped around her and walked the rest of the way down the hall.

      He led her through the foyer and up the curved staircase, toward the west wing. There were more hallways and a second set of stairs before they reached the suites of rooms reserved for guests.

      The royal family’s quarters were located in the east wing, on the opposite end of the palace. But that was for the best. If his plan to seduce Alandra succeeded, their relationship could be kept almost completely secret, thanks to the relative privacy of the west wing and the fact that she would be the only person in residence there for the next month.

      Reaching her suite, he opened the heavy, carved mahogany door, standing just inside to allow her to enter ahead of him. Briefly, he showed her the sprawling sitting room, with its large-screen plasma television and DVD library. Nicolas hadn’t known her personal tastes, so he’d ordered the room to be stocked with a variety of choices, any of which she could exchange in the family’s entertainment room whenever she liked.

      Glancing thrthat Alandra’sicolas was happy to note that Alandra’s things had already been unpacked and put away. She was carefully observing her surroundings, and if she was offended that the palace staff had handled her belongings, she didn’t say so. She looked pleased with the accommodations, her expressive eyes taking in every detail of the beautifully decorated rooms.

      “I’ll leave you alone now, to rest or take a tour of the grounds, whatever you like. One of the staff can show you to the dining room when you’re ready.”

      Turning