Читать книгу A Princess By Christmas - Jennifer Faye - Страница 9

CHAPTER THREE

THIS WAS WHERE he was to stay?

Alex followed Reese into the tiny apartment. He wondered who lived here or if it was just kept as a spare unit. Although seeing the older furniture and the coziness of the place, it didn’t resemble any of the inn’s photos he’d observed online. This place definitely wasn’t meant for guests.

Reese swung open the door to a small bedroom. “This is where you can sleep.”

He stepped up behind her in the doorway and peered over her shoulder. The decorations consisted of miniature teddy bears of all colors and designs. He’d never seen so many stuffed animals in one room. It was definitely interesting decor.

The most important feature was that it had a place for him to sleep. In the middle of the room stood a double bed sporting a royal-blue duvet with white throw pillows. Definitely nothing fancy, but at this point it didn’t matter. He didn’t think he could take one more step.

And to be honest, staying in these private quarters, as primitive as they were, would only make him that much harder to find. It’d been way too easy to tease the press with a juicy morsel of information about how he’d lost his heart to an American. But what no one knew was that he wanted no part of the L word. He’d witnessed firsthand how devastating it could be when you’ve lost the one person you loved with all of your heart. He refused to let himself become that vulnerable.

“Dinner is at six.” Reese backed out of the doorway. “Do you need anything else?”

He stepped past her and hefted his suitcase onto the bed. “Your mother mentioned the room has a private bath.”

Reese’s brows rose sharply. “She was mistaken.”

“I don’t think so. She sounded quite certain.”

Reese crossed her arms and tilted her head until their gazes met. “Well, she was mistaken, because she was talking about her room and she’s not about to give it up to you or anyone.”

“You seem very protective of your mother.”

“She’s all I’ve got in this world.” And without another word, Reese turned and left.

Alex stood there staring at the now empty doorway, mentally comparing the image of the smiling older woman with the very serious young woman who seemed less than happy to have him here. There was a definite resemblance between the two as far as looks went, but the similarities stopped there. He rubbed the back of his neck before stretching. He was probably making too much of the first meeting. He’d see things clearer in the morning.

At last, he gave in to the urge for a great big yawn. The unpacking could wait. After being in transit for much longer than he cared to remember, it’d feel so good to lie down and rest. Just for a moment. After all, it was almost dinnertime.

He leaned his head back against the pillow. Maybe this trip wasn’t going to be as bad as he’d imagined. For the time being, he could be a normal person without people looking at him with preconceived notions of what a royal should say or do. For just a bit, he’d be plain old Alex. A regular citizen. A mere tourist. Something he’d never been in his whole life.

* * *

The next morning, Alex awoke with his street clothes still on. He’d only meant to lie down for a moment. His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t even made it to dinner. Then the events of the prior evening started to play in his mind.

He groaned as he recalled how in his exhausted state he’d been less than gentlemanly, demanding to have his way. He scratched at his two—or was it now a three?—day-old beard. He definitely owed Reese an apology.

After a hot shower and a much-needed shave, he started to unpack. He moved to the dresser and pulled out a drawer. He froze when he spotted a light pink lacy bra. What in the world?

His gaze moved to the right, finding a matching pair of undies. They weren’t much more than a scrap of lace with a couple of pink strings. Immediately the image of Reese came to mind. This must be her bedroom. And these were her things. He slammed the drawer shut, but it was too late. His imagination had kicked into overdrive.

Not only had he been unfriendly last evening, but he’d even stolen her bed right out from under her. He groaned. He wasn’t so sure an apology was going to be enough to earn his way into her good graces.

He removed a pair of jeans and a sweater from his suitcase—the clothes he’d borrowed from his brother. They were more casual than his normal wardrobe, but this trip called for a very casual appearance. He and his fraternal twin, the Crown Prince Demetrius Castanavo, still wore the same size. Not that his brother would even notice the missing clothes, much less care about them. He had more important things on his mind at the moment.

Alex’s next task was styling his temporarily darkened hair. He didn’t want anyone to recognize him too soon. Let the paparazzi continue with their hunt. After all, the fun was in the chase. And it’d take them awhile to find him in this out-of-the-way inn.

As he worked the styling gel into his hair, he mulled over his brother’s situation. He sympathized with Demetrius. The thought of being responsible not only for the royal family but also for an entire nation was, to say the least, a bit overwhelming. He just hoped Demetrius would come to terms with his inherited position as crown prince and not cause any further incidents—such as the potential scandal everyone was working so hard to cover up.

Next Alex added some saline drops to his eyes to refresh the colored contacts similar to the ones he’d used while he’d been on vacation a few months back. He blinked a couple of times, then inspected his image in the mirror. A smile pulled at his lips. For today, he was no longer Prince Alexandro. He was just plain, ordinary Alex. But first he had some royal business to attend to.

He stepped into the living room and heard a knock at the door. A man handed him a tray of food and Alex’s mouth watered. It’d been a long time since he’d been this hungry. He thanked the man and barely got seated on the couch before he took his first big bite.

After finishing every last drop of the herb soup and devouring the turkey sandwich, he logged on to his computer. He scanned one news site and then another and another. His plan wasn’t working. The paparazzi weren’t following his jaunt to the U.S. the way he’d hoped they would. In fact, he’d fallen out of the headlines. This was not good. Not good at all.

He’d definitely have 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. When she swayed slightly, Alex rushed to her side.

“Let me do that for you.” He held out his hands for the string of lights.

“Thanks, but I’ve got it. I know exactly how they go.”

Instinctively he placed a hand on her hip to steady her while with his other hand he gripped the stool. The heat of her body seeped through her jeans and into his hand, sending a strange sensation pulsating up his arm.

She glanced down at him and their gazes caught for a second more than was necessary. Then she turned away and attempted to string the lights on three little hooks above the door.

“There. That should do.” With his hand aiding her, she climbed down the few steps. “Would you mind plugging them in?” She pointed to the outlet on the other side of the porch.

He was glad to help, even if it was just something small. And the fact that this independent woman let him do anything at all must mean that he was making a little bit of progress with her. He liked that thought—not that he was going to let this budding friendship go too far. But it would be nice to have someone around with whom he could strike up a friendly conversation. He quickly found the end of the extension cord and plugged in the additional string of lights.

He turned around to find that she’d returned to the front lawn to inspect her own handiwork. Deciding that she had the right idea, he did the same. He glanced up at the house, finding it looked just as good as before. “You did a great job.”

“It’s no big deal. But it’s nice to know that someone enjoys my efforts.”

“Do you need help with anything else?”

“Actually, I do.”

Her answer surprised him. “Tell me what you need.”

“After dinner, I need to go get a Christmas tree.”

She was going to chop down a tree? She might have the determination, but he wasn’t so sure that she had the physical strength. He wondered whom she would turn to if he wasn’t here. The thought of her leaning on another man didn’t sit well with him.

Ignoring the bothersome thought, he followed her back to the porch and helped collect her supplies. “I must admit this will be a first for me.”

“Where exactly are you from?”

He didn’t want to lie to her, but he knew that he couldn’t be totally honest. With his accent there was no way he could pass for an American. There had to be a way around this tricky topic.

He decided to turn things around. “Where do you think I’m from?”

“I don’t know.” She tilted her head to the side and eyed him. “Let me think about it.”

Spending time with Reese could be trickier than he’d imagined. He didn’t want to lie to her, but telling her about his homeland was not an option. Maybe he should have stayed in the apartment and avoided her altogether. He inwardly groaned. As if that would be possible with them being roommates.

Besides, he already had a date with her. Correction. He had plans with her.

Oh, boy, was he in deep trouble, and it was only his second day in New York.