Christmas with the Prince. Charlene Sands

words died in her throat as his hands settled on her shoulders.

      The warmth of his skin began to seep through the cotton of her shirt and her cheeks exploded with heat. And as if that wasn’t mortifyingly embarrassing and awkward enough, he slipped his fingers underneath the collar of her shirt. She sucked in a surprised breath as his hands touched her bare skin.

      “The trick to relax the muscle,” he told her, “is not to pinch the tension out, but to instead apply even pressure.”

      Yeah, right. Like there was any way she was going to be able to relax now, with his hands touching her. His skin against her skin.

      He pressed his thumbs into the muscle at the base of her neck and, against her will, a sigh of pleasure slipped from her lips. He slid his thumbs slowly upward, applying steady pressure. When he reached the base of her skull, he repeated the motion, until she felt the muscles going limp and soft.

      “Feel good?” he asked.

      “Mmm.” Good didn’t even begin to describe the way he was making her feel. Her head lolled forward and her eyes drifted shut.

      “It would be better with oil,” he said. “Unfortunately I don’t have any handy.”

      The sudden image of Prince Aaron rubbing massage oil onto her naked body flashed through her brain.

      Oh, no. Don’t even go there, Liv. This was not a sexual come-on. He was just being polite. Although at that moment she would give anything to know what it would feel like. His oily hands sliding across her bare skin…

      As if that would ever happen.

      He sank his thumbs into the crevice beside her shoulder blades and a gust of breath hissed through her teeth.

      “You have a knot here,” he said, gently working it loose with his thumbs.

      “You’re really good at this,” she said. “Did you take a class or something?”

      “Human anatomy.”

      “Why would a prince in an agriculturally based field need a human anatomy class?”

      “It might surprise you to learn that there was a time when I was seriously considering medical school.”

      Actually that didn’t surprise her at all. She had the feeling there was a lot more to Prince Aaron than he let people see. “What changed your mind?” she asked.

      “My family changed it for me. They needed me in the family business, so I majored in agriculture instead. End of story.”

      Somehow she doubted it was that simple. There was a tense quality to his voice that belied his true feelings.

      “I guess that’s the benefit of not having parents,” she said. “No one to tell you what to do.”

      “I guess” was all he said, and she had the distinct impression she’d broached a subject he preferred not to explore. He gave her shoulders one last squeeze, then backed away and asked, “Feel better?”

      “Much,” she said, turning toward him. “Thank you.”

      “Sure,” he said, but the usual, cheery smile was absent from his face. In fact, he looked almost…sad. Then she realized the inference in what she’d just said. His father was dying, his only hope a risky experimental procedure, and here she was suggesting that not having parents was a good thing.

      Here he was being nice to her, and she was probably making him feel terrible.

      Way to go, Liv. Open mouth, insert foot.

      “Aaron, what I said just then, about not having parents—”

      “Forget it,” he said with a shrug.

      In other words, drop it.

      The lack of sleep, especially after that relaxing massage, was obviously taking its toll on her. She was saying stupid and inappropriate things to a man she knew practically nothing about. A virtual stranger.

      A stranger who had the authority to fire her on a whim if it suited him.

      “You should get some rest,” he said.

      He was right. She was long overdue for a power nap. “Now, if I can just find my way back to my room,” she joked.

      “Didn’t Derek bring you a map?”

      She looked down at her desk, papers strewn everywhere. “It’s here. Somewhere.”

      He smiled and gestured to the door. “Come on, I’ll walk you up.”

      “Thank you.” She slipped her laptop in her backpack and slung it over her shoulder, grabbing the plate of uneaten food on her way out.

      Even though he was silent, the tension between them seemed to ease as she followed the prince out of the lab and up the stairs. She left the plate in the kitchen and received a distinct look of disapproval from the butler.

      “Sorry,” she said lamely, and he answered with a stiff nod. That on top of what she’d said to the prince filled her with a nagging sense of guilt as they walked up to her room. She was obviously way out of her league here. This was going to take a lot of getting used to.

      When they reached her door, she turned to him and said, “Thanks for walking me up.”

      He smiled. “My pleasure. Get some rest.”

      He started to turn away.

      “Aaron, wait!”

      He stopped and turned back to her.

      “Before you go, I wanted to apologize.”

      His brow furrowed. “For what?”

      “What I said in the lab.”

      “It’s okay.”

      “No, it isn’t. It was really…thoughtless. And I’m sorry if I made you feel bad.”

      “Liv, don’t worry about it.”

      “I mean, I basically suggested you would be better off without parents, which, considering your father’s health, was totally insensitive of me. My verbal filter must be on the fritz.”

      He leaned casually against the doorjamb, a look of amused curiosity on his face. “Verbal filter?”

      “Yeah. People’s thoughts go through, and the really dumb and inappropriate stuff gets tossed out before they can become words. Lack of sleep must have mine working at minimum capacity. I know it’s a pretty lame excuse. But I’m really, really sorry. I’m just an employee. I have no right asking you personal questions or talking about your family, anyway.”

      For several long, excruciating seconds he just looked at her, and she began to worry that maybe he really was thinking about firing her. Then he asked, “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

       Huh?

      She insulted him, and he invited her to share dinner with him? She might have thought he was extending a formal invitation just to be polite, but he looked sincere. Like he really wanted to have dinner with her.

      “Um, sure,” she said, more than a touch puzzled.

      “Seven sharp.”

      “Okay.”

      “I’ll warn you that Geoffrey loathes tardiness.”

      “I’ll be on time,” she assured him.

      He flashed her one last smile, then walked away.

      She stepped into her room and shut the door, still not exactly sure what just happened, but way too tired to try to sort it out. She would think about it later, after she’d had some sleep.

      As inviting as the bed looked, the draw of a steaming shower was too appealing to resist. The sensation of the hot water jetting