Christmas Baby for the Princess

by Barbara Wallace

  “Look, I know you’re ticked I gave her part of your job.”

  “No, hey, I’m cool,” he replied, raising his hands in a way that said he clearly wasn’t. “I’m the one who told you to get her out of your system. I just need to know if this is going to become a regular habit. ’Cause if you’re gonna promote every woman you sleep with, things are going to get awkward real fast.”

  “It’s not like that,” Max replied, surprised by the defensiveness in his voice. He wished he could explain to his friend that Arianna was officially off-limits. “Believe it or not, I’m only interested in helping the woman.”

  “Uh-huh.” Leaning over the bar, he nodded at Arianna’s suitcase, which sat where Max left it, next to a bar stool. “Out of curiosity, where did your newest employee sleep last night?”

  Max’s cheeks grew warm.

  “I thought so.”

  “In the spare bedroom.” So he could wipe that smug smile off his face. “Nothing happened.” Nothing except two whopper revelations and a kiss he couldn’t stop thinking about.

  Instead of his smile fading, however, Darius let out a laugh. “You are kidding me. Max Brown took a woman home and didn’t sleep with her? Let me get the calendar. Someone’s got to mark this date down.”

  Max curled his lip into a sneer. “Very funny. You act like I’ve never gone out of my way to help someone before. May I remind you you’re the one who says I’m always trying to save the world?”

  “Save the world, sure. But I’ve told you from the start, this chick is different. I figured it was because you had the hots for her, but now you tell me she’s in the spare bedroom, and she’s working in your office planning menus? I don’t get it. What’s the big deal about this particular woman?”

  “She’s special.” The words came so easily, they scared him. Special was another one of those words with implications.

  Then again, Arianna was special. She was royalty, for crying out loud. She was carrying the possible king of her country. Of course he would go out of his way to help.

  Although that didn’t explain why he felt protective of her before he knew her story, or why he was still fighting the urge to hold her in his arms.

  “I’m sorry, sir. We don’t open for another hour.”

  At the sound of Darius’s voice, Max turned to see who had walked in. The man standing in the doorway was tall and swarthy, with salt-and-pepper hair. He wore a navy blue coat remarkably similar to Arianna’s in terms of style and expense. His posture reminded him of Arianna as well. Straight and tall.

  Regal.

  A chill ran down Max’s spine. “He’s not here to eat,” he told Darius.

  “How do you...?”

  “May I help you?” He didn’t have time for the bartender’s questions right now. There was no doubt in his mind this man was looking for Arianna.

  The stranger regarded him with an imperious stare. “I am not here to eat,” he replied, in a lilting accent similar to Arianna’s. “I am Vittorio Mastella, head of security for His Majesty King Carlos of Corinthia.”

  “King who of where?”

  Darius had come around the bar to join him by the door. Max immediately shot him a look.

  “How can we help you, Mr. Mastella?” He noticed the man’s red tie was dotted with what looked like small black dragons. A similar combination, this time in the shape of the flag, was pinned to his lapel. The Corinthian flag. Max recognized it from the website Arianna showed him.

  “I am looking for someone. A young woman. I am wondering if she has been in your establishment recently.” Reaching into his breast pocket, the man produced a photograph. It was a cropped version of the one Arianna showed him online, with her hair blond and piled atop her head.

  “Have you seen her?” he asked.

  For the first time in his life, Max actually thanked God for his years of working the underbelly. It took all his experience to keep from reacting.

  “Sorry,” he said. “She doesn’t look familiar.”

  Mastella looked over at Darius. Thankfully, the bartender could be trusted to follow Max’s lead and had a better poker face. He shook his head. “Nope. Sorry.”

  “Are you certain?”

  Something about the man’s stare made the hair on the back of Max’s neck stand straighter. He seemed to be fixated on a point past his shoulders. Where Max’s office was located.

  “Positive,” he replied, shifting to his left. “I think we’d remember if a gorgeous blonde walked into our place. Wouldn’t we, Darius?”

  “Yeah, we don’t get too many people wearing crowns. Unless you count Mrs. Riderman, but that’s only on special occasions.”

  “I see.” If the stranger was listening, Max couldn’t tell. The man seemed intent on whatever it was he saw over his shoulder. “Are you going on a trip?”

  Dammit. The suitcase. That’s what the guy was looking at. “Yes, I am.” Hopefully the man didn’t notice the catch in his breath before he spoke. “I’m heading to Connecticut right after work.”

  “Connecticut?”

  “It’s the next state over,” Darius chimed in.

  “I have a meeting with a supplier in Hartford first thing in the morning. Figured I’d get a head start. You know, beat the traffic.”

  “Of course.” He sounded about as interested in Max’s travel plans as he would a listing of menu ingredients. Returning the photo to his breast pocket, he pulled out a leather card case. Expensive leather. Probably from Manolo’s factory. Max fought a sneer.

  “I am staying at the St. Regis,” Vittorio was saying. “Should you see Princess Arianna, please let me know. It is imperative that I speak with her as soon as possible.”

  He bet it was imperative. Max pretended to study the card. “Sure thing. I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more help.”

  Vittorio, who was pulling on a pair of leather gloves, barely spared a glance. “On the contrary, you’ve both been very helpful. Thank you.” Giving a quick nod of his head, he turned on his heel and left.

  No sooner did the door shut, than Darius locked on him like a laser. “Princess Arianna?”

  “You never heard a thing,” Max replied. “Not a single word.”

  “Including the word princess?”

  “Especially that word.”

  “Does that mean you’re not going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Max sighed. He didn’t like leaving his friend in the dark, but he’d promised Arianna. “Not my story to tell. Let’s just say it’s complicated.”

  “No kidding.” The bartender shook his head. “Man, you’ve gotten involved with some crazy women, but this time... You know what? I take it back. I don’t want to know.”

  “Good.” Max headed back toward the office. Arianna had to have heard Vittorio’s voice. Hopefully she hadn’t tried to bolt through the back door.

  * * *

  As soon as Arianna heard Vittorio’s voice, she’d leaped from the chair she was sitting in and wedged herself in the space behind the office door. Thankfully, Max’s office was set at enough of an angle that Vittorio shouldn’t notice the movement.

  She could not believe the head of Corinthian security himself was going door to door looking for her. Knowing Vittorio’s sense of order and propriety, he no doubt found the task completely beneath him. On the other hand, his personal involvement made sense. If Father wanted discretion, Vittorio would be the only man he would trust.

  Thinking of Father made her insides twist with guilt. Was he angry or worried about her? Both, she imagined. That was how she would feel if it was her child. More weight piled onto her already guilty conscience.

  What was she going to do? Choose duty or disgrace?

  You already know, a voice whispered.

  Did she? All her life, she had come down on the
side of duty. Father wanted her to stand in for Mama. Father needed a goodwill ambassador. Father wanted her to date Manolo. Was she destined to choose duty again? If so, then why was she hiding behind a door? Why not step out, show herself to Vittorio and be done with the whole silly scheme?

  “You can relax. He’s gone now.”

  The tension seeped from her shoulders. Funny how quickly Max’s voice could put her soul at ease. Letting out her breath, she let her head fall back against the wall. “Thank goodness. I cannot believe he walked in while I was sitting in plain view. Do you think she suspects that I am here?”

  “Nah.” Shaking his head, he planted himself against the edge of the desk, once again demonstrating the natural grace Arianna admired. With his hands stuffed in his pockets and his legs crossed at the ankles, he looked calm and collected. Nothing at all like a man who lied to a Corinthian official. “I’m pretty sure Darius and I chased him off the scent,” he said.

  “Darius?” Her pulse began to race. “He knows who I am?”

  “Don’t worry. He won’t say anything.”

  “How can you be so sure?” The bartender had shown only disdain for her. What incentive did he have to keep her secret? Especially in the face of a reward. There would be a reward.

  “I told you, we’ve known each other since we were kids. Darius might be obnoxious at times, but he’s loyal to a fault. I told him to keep his mouth shut, and he will.”

  Arianna wished she could share his confidence. Now two people knew her secret. If Darius chose to tell just one person...

  Was all this worrying and subterfuge worth it, simply to have some time to think over a question with an obvious answer? For a couple more weeks of Max’s company? The knot that had replaced her heart twisted in her chest at the question.

  “This is ridiculous,” she said, coming out from her shadows. “I should call Vittorio and let him—”

  “No!”

  “What?”

  Max had straightened to his full height, like a soldier at the ready. “You said you needed a couple weeks.”

  “That was before...”

  Before the voice in her head started gaining strength.

  “Before I realized how silly this whole idea was,” she said. “I have no business running away from my problems like a child.”

  “There’s nothing childish about wanting to think things through. About making the right choice. What will going back today solve that can’t be solved two weeks from now?”

  He had a point. Her life would be exactly the same in two weeks or even in a month. It was the intensity of his argument that stirred her thought. Reached inside her and squeezed at the part that wished for a third alternative.

  She ran her fingers over the brass gussets that lined the edge of the chair in front of her. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t want me to go.” She was only partially teasing.

  “It’s not about my wanting you to stay or leave,” he replied. “It’s about you being absolutely sure you know what you’re doing. This is your future we’re talking about.”

  Wrong, she thought, hand coming to rest on her belly. Her future was inside her. What was left was to decide what life would be best for the baby. She had a feeling she knew.

  “I suppose a few more days wouldn’t hurt,” she said.

  Max’s smile was far more animated than she would have expected. “Exactly. You’ll stay, you’ll take it easy and you’ll decide whether or not marrying Manolo is right.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Trust me.” He raised his arm, and for a second Arianna thought he was going to stroke her face, only to watch as he combed through his hair instead. “You’ll be glad you stayed.”

  Would she, though? She wondered as a tremor of disappointment trailed through her. The voice in her head, the one who had all the answers, was telling her staying would only make things more complicated.

  Because it knew why she wasn’t ready to leave.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “DID YOU REALLY think you’d get away with it?”

  Max recognized the actor’s voice soon as he heard it; the movie was one of his favorites.

  He didn’t expect to come home to it playing on his television set however. Tossing his overcoat over the chair by the door, he walked into his darkened living room, only to stop short at the threshold.

  There was a Christmas tree in his window. Four feet high and lit with tiny white lights. Candles, too. A half dozen of them in jars strategically placed around the space. They turned the apartment into a cornucopia of holiday aromas: cinnamon, pine and sugar cookies.

  Sitting in the midst of everything, wrapped in a blanket, sat Arianna, her attention glued to the television screen. She had a cup of tea cradled in her hands, the rim hovering by her mouth as if she couldn’t tear herself away to take a sip.

  Max’s chest tightened. They’d been sharing a space for only a few days, yet finding her tucked in the corner of his couch already felt normal.

  Frighteningly so.

  “You’ve been busy,” he said, finally finding his voice.

  She started, then smiled. Max’s chest constricted a little more. It was the oddest of sensations. Not desire so much as a kind of warmth wrapping around his center. “When I sent you home early I thought you would get some rest, not decorate.”

  “There was a man selling them from the back of his truck. I saw them, and decided your apartment could use a little Christmas spirit. The doorman helped me bring it upstairs.”

  “And the candles?”

  “The man was selling those, too. You don’t mind, do you?”

  In other words, she’d bought herself a load of questionable Christmas goods. Max smiled as he walked over to the tree. “No, I don’t mind. Usually, I don’t bother. I figure the one at the club is enough.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not very well decorated. I thought the ornaments would go further than they did. If I had known, I would have purchased more candles.”

  “It’s okay. I like the sparseness.” He poked a particularly large red ball and watched as it swung back and forth catching the light. It’d been a long time since he’d had any kind of Christmas decoration in his place. Always seemed a bit silly since he spent most of his time at work. This little guy looked like he belonged though.

  Much like the woman behind him on the sofa.

  It dawned on him she must have spent her entire paycheck, or much of it. Less than a week’s worth of hours wasn’t much. “You should have told me you wanted to decorate. I would have bought a tree.”

  “I know, but I wanted to do this myself. To thank you for everything you are doing.”

  “You didn’t have—”

  “I told you, I wanted to. Consider it an early Christmas present.”

  Because more than likely she wouldn’t be here on Christmas Day. Max swallowed the lump that had all of a sudden stuck in his throat. He was used to being the one who did people kindnesses, not the other way around. “Thank you.”

  “You are most welcome.” There was the sound of rustling behind him, as she shifted position. “I have been thinking that this situation can’t be easy on you.”

  “What? Harboring a princess?” He turned with a smile. “I do it all the time, don’t you know.”

  “I’m serious. I know how much I’ve disrupted your life this week. Yours and everyone else’s at the club. You’ve been kinder to me than I could ever imagine.”

  “It’s nothing.” What else could he say? Truth was, he didn’t understand his excessive kindness himself. Since they first met, he’d been trying to figure out what made her different from the other people he helped, so that he seemed willing to do just about anything. He couldn’t explain it any more than he could explain the desperate feeling that g
ripped him when she mentioned leaving.

  “You know most people who do as much as you have expect something in return,” she told him.

  “How do you know I don’t?”

  “My gut.”

  “Ah, so we’re listening to that now, are we?”

  “Better late than never, right?”

  In the darkness, her lilt was more pronounced, giving her voice a husky, come-hither quality that went straight through him. Answering the call, he left the tree and joined her on the sofa. To his delight, she moved a couple inches to give him space, but didn’t tuck herself tighter into the corner. He toed off his shoes and stretched his legs across the coffee table. “Interesting choice of movie,” he said, pointing to the big screen. “Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

  “I thought it was going to be a musical. It has the word Holiday in the title.”

  “You could have turned the channel. I’m sure there are more festive programs on, even at this hour of the night.” This time of year, every channel had a dancing elf or sappy holiday romance.

  “I know, but once I realized what it was, I decided to keep watching. I wanted to see what it was about these movies you found so fascinating.”

  In other words, she was trying to understand him. Max knew the drill. When a woman started delving into his psyche, it meant she was looking for more than a good time. Usually that was the signal it was time to let her down gently.

  So, where were the warning bells? The quickening pulse telling him to pull back?

  Maybe it was because he knew Arianna was leaving anyway that her question made him lean back with a smile. “What have you discovered?”

  “I don’t know yet. This movie is definitely attention-holding.”

  “I’m sensing a but coming.”

  “It’s just that I can’t help wondering...” She chewed her lower lip. “Are all of them this...unbelievable?”

  “Says the runaway princess sitting on my couch.” The way she wrinkled her nose in response made him chuckle.

  “I am serious,” she continued. “The heroine keeps going back to the husband no matter how many horrible things he’s done, including trying to frame her for murder.”