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The Prince's Christmas Vow

Page 11

by Jennifer Faye


  She glanced at the clock on the wall. A frown tugged at her mouth. It’d been almost two hours since he had called. Where was he?

  As though in answer to her thoughts, there was a knock at the door. When it swung open, Demetrius strode in with a reserved look on his face. “Sorry I’m later than I planned. I had something to deal with.”

  “Uh, no problem.” She wasn’t about to admit that she’d been dying of curiosity to know what he wanted to discuss. A glance at the clock revealed that it was approaching lunchtime. “Would you like something to eat?”

  “Before we get to that, I have something to show you.” His face was devoid of emotion, but his voice held a serious note.

  “Is something wrong?”

  He paused as though trying to choose his words carefully. “Depends on how you look at it.”

  Her whole body tensed. “Quit dragging it out. Just tell me.”

  He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and held it out to her. “This appeared in this morning’s paper.”

  She hastily unfolded the clipping. There in color was a photo of her and Demetrius getting into his car outside her apartment building. The breath trapped in her lungs. Her mind raced with all of the ramifications.

  “Zoe, relax. It’s not as bad as you’re thinking. Between your sunglasses, your cap and having your head lowered, no one can make out that it’s you. Most of your face is hidden.”

  Zoe let out the pent-up breath. “What are we going to do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What? But we have to do something otherwise people will think—they’ll think—”

  “Nothing. There’s nothing going on in the photo except I am helping someone into my car. Your name was not mentioned. Just a blurb about me being out and about in the city.”

  She turned to him, searching his face for answers. “This was taken by that creepy reporter, wasn’t it?”

  Demetrius rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s my suspicion, but so far the paper is guarding their source. Don’t worry. Now that you’ve moved in here, we shouldn’t have any further problems with that photographer. But when we are out in public, we’re going to have to be extra careful.”

  She nodded. “I understand.”

  He hesitated. Then deciding that he’d made his point, he changed the subject. “Now about lunch, I’ll give the kitchen staff a call and have them send over something. What do you want?”

  “Actually, I was thinking of making a salad.” When he reached for his phone, she added, “You don’t need to call anyone. The fridge is fully stocked. There’s even some fresh shrimp.”

  “Sounds good.” His facial expression said otherwise.

  “If you want something else, that’s fine.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not the menu.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “It’s just that I’m not exactly good in the kitchen. I haven’t had much experience there.”

  “No problem. You can watch.”

  He started to roll up his sleeves. “And have you do all of the work? I don’t think so. You just tell me what needs done and I’ll do my best.”

  They moved to the kitchen and raided the refrigerator of all the fresh vegetables. Demetrius washed while she chopped. The truth was Zoe didn’t have an appetite, no matter how colorful the vegetables or plump the already cooked shrimp.

  Demetrius wasn’t the problem—not exactly. It was what had happened a couple of nights ago that was bothering her. It’d be so easy to get caught up in more kisses, in more of this domestic bliss. But she knew the truth—the fact that she had a fifty-fifty chance of ending up like her mother. And she couldn’t—wouldn’t—put Demetrius through that. A sharp pain started in her finger and rushed up her arm.

  “Hey, you’re bleeding.”

  Zoe glanced down to see she’d nicked the tip of her thumb. She muttered under her breath as she moved to the sink to rinse it off.

  “I’ll get a bandage.” Demetrius rushed out of the room. He quickly returned and played the concerned doctor as he applied antibiotic cream and a bandage. “Now sit down and I’ll finish.”

  Grudgingly, she did as instructed.

  He grabbed a tomato and started to slice it. “Were you able to work on your sketch?”

  Really? He thought she’d be calm enough to be creative. “Umm...no.”

  “You know, I never did get to see any of your sketches. And you did say I’d get to choose one.”

  “And you will. But I don’t want anyone seeing them until I do some more work on them.” Cutting him off before he could launch into a rebuttal, she asked, “Did your meeting with the king go well?”

  “It went as well as could be expected.” Demetrius scraped the tomato pieces into the salad bowls. “I told him about all of your wonderful work at Residenza del Rosa. He’s quite impressed. He’d like to meet with you sometime.”

  The king wanted to meet with her?

  She didn’t respond, not exactly sure what to say. She knew that she was supposed to be honored and tripping all over herself to accept, but her one and only encounter with the king had been anything but impressive. The king had been skeptical about her intentions as far as her marriage to his son.

  The king had never insisted that she leave Demetrius, but he did make it clear if she were to stay what would be expected of her. He pointed out how she would be under constant scrutiny by the press. In her mind, all she could think about was her mother’s disease being documented in the tabloids. How could she do that to her mother who was already struggling? And how could she do that to Demetrius?

  “I don’t think it’d be a good idea for us to meet.”

  “You worry too much. I told you I fixed things. He understands about the mix-up with the papers—”

  “You told him about my mother?”

  Demetrius stilled the knife and turned to her. “I wouldn’t do that. I know how hard it was for you to tell me. When you’re ready, you can tell people.”

  She breathed easier. “Grazie.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I wouldn’t intentionally hurt you by breaking your trust.”

  But she was going to hurt him unless she cleared things up about the kiss. “Demetrius, we need to talk.”

  “I’m listening.”

  She took a deep, steadying breath, held it a second and then released it. “About yesterday—the kiss. It was a mistake.” Was it her imagination or did his body tense? “It...it was an emotional moment for me and you were comforting me—”

  “And things got out of control. Don’t worry. I didn’t read anything into it. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “You did?” When he nodded, she added, “So we’re still good?”

  There was a slight pause. “Don’t worry. We’re still friends. Now let’s eat this amazing salad.”

  Knowing they were still friends should have made her feel better, but she couldn’t help but think about what she was missing. Her gaze followed Demetrius as he carried their lunch to the table next to the windows. If only her life were different.

  * * *

  Just stay focused.

  Zoe stifled a yawn.

  Instead of reporting to her shared office at the palace each day, she now spent her days at the mansion. Piece by piece her vision for a relaxing atmosphere where family members would feel comfortable visiting with residents was coming together. When she wasn’t pointing out where things went, she was painting her vision of a serene beach on the ballroom wall—the drawing Demetrius had finally settled on from her sketch pad.

  However, Zoe had cut her day short and returned to the beach house. She’d thought of something she wanted to add to the mural, but she needed to do some research before she sketched it out.

/>   For the umpteenth time, her fingers paused over the keyboard as her thoughts drifted away. Memories of the steamy lip-lock she’d shared with Demetrius played over and over. Even though they’d both agreed that it had been a mistake, she had a hard time defining that passionate, toe-curling kiss as a mistake. And she wanted more. Lots more.

  The chirp of a bird out on the deck drew her out of her daydream. No matter how amazing that kiss had been, it couldn’t be repeated. They were wrong for each other. After all, he was a royal prince bound by duty to produce the next healthy heir to the throne. And she, well, she was a mere commoner with no nobility in her past, no prestigious connections, nothing to offer the crown except some faulty genes.

  Stirring up the burning embers between them would only lead to trouble.

  The chimes of the doorbell rang through the beach house.

  She rushed to the door. A smile lifted her lips in the hope it’d be Demetrius. But he didn’t normally ring the bell or wait to be greeted at the door. So who else could it be?

  She swung open one of the expansive teal doors and there stood two uniformed men from the palace staff. Each held a cardboard box.

  The older of the two men was the first to speak. “I believe you inquired about some extra Christmas decorations.”

  “I did. I want to surprise De—erm...Prince Demetrius. I thought he might enjoy a bit of holiday cheer.”

  When she’d passed the butler in the hallway the other day, she’d mentioned that the palace looked lovely. And she might have added that it’d be nice to have some of the extra decorations for the beach house. To be honest, she hadn’t thought the man was paying her a bit of attention. Obviously he’d heard every word she’d said. She made a mental note to thank him.

  “Where would you like these?” the younger man spoke up.

  “I’ll take them.” She held out her arms for the box in his hands.

  “It’s okay, ma’am. We’ve got them. There are more in the truck—”

  “More?”

  “Sì. Lots more.”

  “Oh my. I didn’t expect so much.”

  “You did ask for the extras, didn’t you?”

  “Um...I did. Come on in.” She stepped out of their way. Luckily the beach house was quite spacious. “You can place them in the living room.”

  It took a few minutes for the two men to haul in boxes of all shapes and sizes. After Zoe saw the men off, she walked back into the living room and her mouth gaped open. What was Demetrius going to say when he saw all of this?

  She smiled, thinking of the old Demetrius. He would have thought it was great. He loved to find reasons to celebrate. He’d have popped some bubbly, turned on some festive music and been the first one to explore the boxes. Boy, she missed that part of him.

  This new Demetrius had her stumped. She never knew what to expect from him. Just like that kiss that had come out of nowhere. What did it mean? Did it mean that he wanted them to start over? Or had it just been a fleeting thing?

  Not wanting to dwell on those troubling thoughts any longer, she started opening boxes. There were ornaments, table decorations and wall hangings. But when she came to a pencil tree, she stopped. It was perfect. Now she just had to find a spot for it.

  Zoe set to work. She placed the seven-foot Christmas tree next to the fireplace. The tree was adorable with a real bark trunk that was anchored in a red bucket. The short limbs were lined with white lights. All she had to do was plug it in. The twinkle lights lit up, sending a soft glow through the shadows now filling the room.

  In another box, she found candles, which she lined along the mantel. After some digging in the kitchen, she found a lighter. With a chill in the air, she decided to go ahead and burn the logs in the fireplace. The apartment she shared with her mother didn’t have such a luxury. And Zoe did love how the light from the fire danced upon the walls while the wood snapped and popped.

  Onward she went digging through the boxes, amazed at the variety and quantity of decorations. No expense had been spared. She pulled out her cell phone and selected some Christmas music. She started singing along as she continued to create a holiday retreat.

  “What’s going on here?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ZOE JUMPED, ALMOST dropping the glass ornament in her hand. She turned to find Demetrius propped against the wall. His arms were crossed while his facial expression was unreadable.

  “I...I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Obviously. Do you want to explain all of this?”

  Zoe retrieved her phone and switched off the music. “With Christmas just around the corner, I thought you might enjoy some holiday cheer.”

  “I had no idea that you planned to redecorate the beach house.”

  “I didn’t. I mean, I’m not.” She glanced down at the ornament in her hand. She turned to put it back in the box. So much for surprising him.

  He glanced around. His gaze paused on the pile of boxes.

  “Sorry about the mess. I’ll make those boxes go away.” Zoe worried, biting her bottom lip.

  Demetrius turned to the fireplace. Now that the sun had sunk below the horizon, the flames of the fire flickered and cast a warm glow over the room. As the temperature rose, Demetrius discarded his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his blue Oxford shirt.

  Feeling a need to explain, she said, “I thought a fire would be nice.”

  He stepped up to the tree. He reached out and touched a glittery silver star ornament.

  She swallowed hard, feeling like a kid with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. “I can get rid of the tree, too.”

  When he turned, he was wearing that serious expression—the one that created lines between his brows. She laced her fingers together while wishing he would say something. She didn’t deal well with the silent treatment.

  Rushing to fill the awkward silence, she said, “I just got caught up in the excitement of the season. When I inquired at the palace about decorating, they sent over their extra ornaments. I never expected them to send so much stuff.”

  Demetrius glanced around at the opened boxes. “I think we need to do something about this.”

  In all honesty, it was rather a mess. It looked a little like Santa’s workshop except instead of toys there were decorations. She really didn’t want to take down the festive ornaments, but this wasn’t her house. “I’ll have everything put away tonight.”

  “Could you hand me that box?”

  He was going to help her take down the tree? She thought of putting him off, hoping he’d change his mind. But she didn’t want to push her luck. She quietly handed him the designated box. His fingers brushed over hers as he took it. Her pulse raced. Their gazes met but Zoe glanced away. Things were already complicated enough without making it worse.

  In the silence where there once had been festive music, she started closing up the boxes. Perhaps she could fit them in a spare bedroom until she figured out exactly what to do with them.

  “I could use a little help over here.”

  “Um. Sure.” She closed the lid on another box before turning around. “What do you need?”

  “You to help me.” He waved her over to where he was standing near the Christmas tree. “Don’t you think you’ve missed something?”

  She was confused. “Oh, you want the tree taken down first?”

  He shook his head. “That isn’t what I mean. The tree is only half-decorated. I think you better bring some more of those ornaments over here.”

  She stopped, her mouth gaping. He didn’t want to take it all down? Instead, he was going to decorate the tree with her? Really? Maybe somewhere inside him there was still a little bit of the Demetrius she used to know—the one she’d fallen in love with.

  A tempting thought crossed her mind. Would it be possible
to find that smiling, fun-loving guy again? With a little bit of encouragement, would he let down his guard?

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” His dark brows drew together. “Do I have a bit of garland or something in my hair?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Do you really want to help me decorate?”

  He shrugged. “Why not? I’m always up for trying something different.”

  She grabbed the box with some ceramic ornaments. “You mean you’ve never decorated a Christmas tree before?”

  “Not since I was a kid. Professional decorators come in to do the palace decorations. Everything has to be just right for photo ops.”

  She tried to envision a life where there were people that decorated your Christmas tree for you. It was so far from her modest lifestyle that it was a difficult concept. Right now, she didn’t even have enough money to get her mother around-the-clock care.

  “I guess when you’re the richest man on the island, you can afford to have people do those sort of things for you.”

  He straightened. His shoulders took on a rigid line. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. She knew that she’d misspoken. She didn’t mean anything by her comment. She’d just let her guard down and done some thinking out loud. She’d have to be careful going forward.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything—”

  “Could you hand me that candy cane ornament?” His gaze didn’t meet hers.

  “Um, sure.” She moved to the couch.

  She bent over to untangle the red ribbon looped around another ornament. After a bit of maneuvering, she freed it. She straightened and turned in time to find Demetrius staring at her. He quickly averted his eyes, but not before she realized that he was still attracted to her.

  “Why don’t you turn on the music you were playing when I interrupted you?” Demetrius hung the candy cane on the tree.

  “You mean the Christmas carols?”

  He nodded. “Then you can sing some more.”

  “Oh, no.” Then she got an idea—a delicious idea. “Not unless you sing with me.”

 

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