Cinderella's Prince Under the Mistletoe

by Cara Colter

  “These con artists are damnably clever. Anyone who did the slightest bit of research could pose this possibility.”

  “But the scenario seems quite believable.”

  “I’m sure no effort would be spared in setting the scene when the stakes are so high. This plot could have been years in the making.”

  “I called her.”

  “You what?” Luca allowed himself a moment’s more irritation at Montague. His mother should have been protected from this.

  “I thought I would be able to tell something from speaking to her.”

  “And could you?” he had asked, his breathing constricted in his chest.

  His mother had lifted a shoulder and looked at him with distressed eyes. “She had no idea the firstborn legitimate child of the King would legally be the ruler of Casavalle.”

  “She claimed she had no idea.”

  “Yes, that’s what she claimed. She was extraordinarily soft-spoken. She owns a bookstore.”

  “She says she owns a bookstore.”

  “We’ll know soon enough. I’m going to ask Antonio to leave immediately following your wedding to meet with her.”

  “I’ll go myself.”

  “You have other things to attend to. Plus, Antonio has less at stake. You might appear faintly hostile to her.”

  Luca accepted his mother’s judgment, but he wasn’t happy about it.

  “For now,” his mother said, “it might be best if just the three of us know about this.”

  “Hopefully forever,” Luca said firmly.

  “In this day and age, no matter how clever the con, my dearest son, there is no way to conceal the facts. Antonio will collect a DNA sample. We’ll have it analyzed by our own specialists. It could come to nothing. Of course it could! But I wanted you to know. I didn’t want you blindsided by this on your honeymoon.”

  And then, because the wedding had been canceled and there would be no honeymoon, Luca had decided to come himself. He didn’t care if he came across as hostile.

  Except, now he did.

  Now that he knew this woman, Gabriella Ross, was a friend—a very close friend—of Imogen’s, he knew chances of her deliberately setting up such a complex charade were remote. Imogen simply would not have friends like that. And for Gabriella to have grown up here and have a business here was far too complicated a setup, even for the most robust of cons.

  But there could still be an error.

  Sophia could well have been pregnant by another man’s child when she fled her new husband and the kingdom. It was a possibility Luca might not have given so much credence to a few days ago, before Meribel’s confession, as he did now.

  Cristiano was waiting outside the suite. He fell in, one step behind Luca’s shoulder. Their eyes met, Cristiano’s full of concern, just before Cristiano stepped in front of him and opened the dining room door.

  Luca’s first thought was surprise.

  Gabriella Ross had come alone. She was sitting at a table by the window, looking out it, her hands curled tensely around a teacup.

  While he looked very princely, and he knew it, for someone who was making a try for the throne, she looked extremely humble in an oversize sweater and blue jeans. Who met a prince in blue jeans?

  Besides Imogen Albright—but then he had taken her by surprise by arriving early. And this was an arranged meeting.

  The most remarkable thing about Miss Ross seemed to be dark chestnut hair, falling in a wave nearly to the small of her back.

  And then, hearing the door open, she turned her attention from the window and looked at him.

  Slowly, she stood up.

  As soon as she stood, the illusion that there was anything humble about her faded. She stood, and it was in the air around her: a certain inherent dignity, a bone-deep grace, a queen-like composure that he knew she had been born with.

  In that instant, Luca knew.

  It was not just his eyes telling him the truth—she did look amazingly like a very beautiful version of his father—it was his heart.

  It was that intuition that had kicked in when he had assured Imogen about her future and her future children.

  He was in the presence of the next monarch of Casavalle.

  What surprised him more than anything as he moved forward to meet his sister—he did not need the proof of a DNA test—was that he did not feel a sense of loss.

  The hostility he had harbored since hearing about the letter faded as her calm and somehow strangely familiar eyes rested on him. He felt, instead, as if he was meeting the future of his kingdom.

  And it felt right.

  He strode across the room to her. Though she was not petite by any means, he was still much taller than her, and she looked up at him. This close, he could see the nervousness in her.

  He did what neither of them had expected.

  He got down on one knee and bowed his head to her and covered his heart with his hand. “Your Royal Highness, Princess Gabriella,” he said, his voice low with emotion.

  “Get up,” she said in a strangled voice.

  He got up. He took both her hands in his and scanned her face. He kissed both her cheeks.

  “My sister,” he said, standing back from her.

  Her eyes welled up, and he held back the chair for her.

  She sank into it, shocked. “I—I—I thought there was to be a DNA test.”

  “Of course there will be. A formality. I know who you are.”

  She smiled tentatively. “I do, too. I feel something when I look at you. I feel as if I should be intimidated, but I’m not. I feel the oddest bond, as if I’ve known you forever. As a child, I wanted this so badly. A family. Of course, I could have never imagined it was going to be a royal family.”

  “You had no idea?”

  She shook her head, her gorgeous hair waving around her lovely features.

  “My mom died when I was three. My aunt and uncle raised me. I think they knew, but were sworn to secrecy. Then, I was looking for something else in the attic, and I found a box of my mother’s things. Mostly it was baby pictures of me, but there were two letters in it. One was addressed to me, and the other was addressed to your father, to King Vincenzo. I had never even heard of Casavalle. Obviously, she never sent that letter, though it seemed apparent she loved your father very much.”

  “I wonder why she would love him and not send it?” Luca mused, thinking out loud.

  A flicker of a veil dropped over Gabriella’s eyes. He had a feeling she knew exactly why the letter had not been sent, but he respected the fact that she might not be willing to tell him, or at least not yet.

  “I do hope, someday,” he said softly, “I will get to know why a love with such optimistic beginnings had to end with two broken hearts. He never spoke of the failure of his first marriage—at least not to me—for he was not a man accustomed to failure. But there was some sorrow in him that I knew, even as a child, had something to do with the loss of her from his life.”

  “But didn’t he and your mother have a wonderful relationship?”

  “It was a good relationship,” Luca said carefully, “but it’s as if, after your mother, he said goodbye to love, and every decision from there on in was made out of a pragmatic sense of what would be best for our kingdom, including his marriage to my mother.”

  They both contemplated love gone so terribly wrong for a moment, and then Luca felt a need to correct any misperception he might have given.

  “Despite it not being a love match, my mother was perfect for him—strong, pragmatic, loyal.”

  “I’m glad. Speaking of your mother, Queen Maria mentioned something to me—that as the King’s eldest child, I would be next in line for the throne. Let me assure you, there is no need to be threatened by me! I don’t want the job!”

  “And yet here we are today, lookin
g at the simple truth that despite all that has happened, all the secrets and all the obstacles, here I sit with you. Perhaps you cannot outrun your fate, Gabriella.”

  She gulped. “Surely I can refuse the obligation.”

  He tilted his head at her. She was nervous. And she was taken aback. And yet he could see the composure in her, the wisdom.

  “Can you?” he challenged her softly. “Do you really think you can refuse what you were born to do?”

  “I run a bookstore!”

  “I can see it in you, though. I can see it in the way you carry yourself. I can see my father in your eyes. You don’t have to decide today. But come. Come to Casavalle. Get to know your family and your kingdom. Give it a chance. If you decide to step into the shoes of the ruler, I will pledge my loyalty to you to my dying breath. I will stand behind you. I will share with you everything I have come to know.”

  “I just want you to be my brother.”

  He smiled. “I think that’s what I just said. Will you come?”

  She was silent, but when she looked at him, he saw the resolve in her eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “Can you be ready to leave quickly? As soon as tomorrow?”

  “I’m afraid if we don’t leave quickly, I’ll change my mind.”

  “I need one thing from you, before we leave. A favor.”

  “You need a favor from me? I can’t even imagine what that might be.”

  “I need you to go and talk to Imogen Albright. You need to tell your best friend what is going on.”

  “Imogen? How do you know about Imogen’s friendship with me?”

  “I was snowed in with her at the Lodge.”

  Gabriella covered her mouth with her hand, and her eyes went wide. “When Cristiano contacted me to delay our first meeting because of the snowstorm, he never said you were there, at the Lodge. With Imogen.”

  “He would never let anyone know where I was, particularly as I was unprotected.”

  “You and Imogen...”

  “Nothing happened!” he said, his tone way too defensive.

  “And yet you know we are best friends.”

  “Well, of course, we conversed.”

  Gabriella studied him. Her eyebrow went up. She seemed to be hearing quite a lot that he was not saying.

  Was that what it was like to have a sister? Of course, one other woman had had the same gift of seeing straight to his heart. And he did not have sisterly feelings toward her at all!

  “The road to the Lodge will probably be closed for a few days,” Gabriella told him. “I guess I could call her?”

  How was Imogen going to feel when she found out her best friend was his sister?

  “I can arrange for you to be taken there,” he said. “I think the news that you and I are brother and sister will be shocking for her. Not the kind of news one might want to get when they are alone.”

  Again, Gabriella was watching him with interest. Her lips twitched. She obviously was finding it quite endearing that he felt so protective of Imogen.

  He gave her, his new sister, his most princely glare.

  She laughed!

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IMOGEN AND GABRIELLA sat across from each other at the kitchen table in the Lodge. Imogen had deliberately chosen not to light a fire and have tea in her office when Gabriella had shown up by complete surprise, riding in on the still-closed road by snowmobile.

  Gabriella’s cheeks were pink from her snowmobile ride, and her hair tumbled out from under her toque in a wild wave of gorgeous color.

  Imogen was reeling from what Gabriella had just told her. Luca was Gabriella’s brother!

  It explained so much. No wonder he had seemed so familiar at times. No wonder she had thought she had recognized him when he had stepped off the helicopter.

  And no wonder her friend had been so secretive. This was stunning news, indeed. Dear Gabi, Imogen’s lifelong friend, was not just a princess, but the next in line to rule the kingdom of Casavalle!

  “And then he tried to convince you to take from him what he has prepared his whole life to do?” Imogen asked softly.

  Gabriella nodded. “I’m so sorry I never told you what was going on. It just seemed so unreal. I didn’t want to appear the fool—thinking I was some sort of royalty—without confirming it, without knowing the truth.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to go back with him. Just to see. Just to ‘give it a chance,’ as he suggested. It sounds as if we will be leaving fairly quickly.”

  “Yes,” Imogen said, with faint bitterness. “He has urgent business to attend to.” Quickly, she filled her friend in on the Prince’s canceled wedding, his intended bride pregnant with another man’s child.

  “And so,” she finished, “he’s rushing back there to defend a woman who betrayed him.”

  Gabi was silent. When she spoke her voice was solemn and quiet. “It seems to me as if Princess Meribel had a very difficult choice to make. Betray him. Or betray herself.”

  Imogen looked closely at her friend. She had always known this about her: Gabi was unusually wise for someone so young, and almost scarily intuitive. In the new light of who she really was, it begged the question: Were some things ordained? Was it possible the qualities of leadership were genetic?

  She sensed both the intuition and wisdom as Gabi met her gaze and held it.

  “Tell me what happened between you and Luca,” she suggested encouragingly. “There’s something about you that’s different. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  “Oh!” Imogen could feel herself blushing. “Nothing happened!”

  “Hmmm. That’s what he said, too. Exact words, exact tone of voice.”

  “I was happy,” Imogen admitted in a low voice. She needed to tell someone. “I was happy with him.” She glanced up to see how Gabi would take that.

  Gabi was smiling. “That’s what’s different! It’s not as if you got something back that you lost when you broke up with Kevin. There’s something brand-new in you. It sparkles.”

  “Well, I don’t know why it would,” Imogen said. “I’m angry right now, not happy.”

  “The anger is just a thin layer on top of something else.”

  “Quit being so wise! They will steal you from me to be their Queen, for sure.”

  They both laughed at that, and Imogen was glad for the laughter. She was not sure she was ready to admit it to Gabi, but she admitted it to herself.

  The anger did mask something else. She was aware she would not trade her days with the Prince for any treasure available on earth. There was one thing Imogen was not going to share with Gabriella: in too short a time, she had given her heart to him.

  Though it made no sense, though it seemed unreasonable and maybe even impossible, there was a little secret Imogen was nursing.

  She had fallen in love with Prince Luca.

  Nursing that forbidden love had seemed much easier before her talk with Gabrielle, because then Imogen had thought he was leaving and she would never see him again.

  She had thought a quick, clean cut would be for the best.

  But now her best friend’s life was irrevocably tangled with the House of Valenti. Which meant chances were quite high that Imogen, through her relationship with Gabi, was going to see the Prince again.

  And to be completely honest with herself, despite her initial belief that a clean cut would be for the best, now she could not determine if seeing him again would be a good thing or a bad thing.

  Although her heart was singing its answer.

  * * *

  Imogen walked down the hospital corridor happily aware that she had been over-the-top in her selection of gifts for Rachel’s new baby, who had been named Ben. She could barely see over the parcels she had loaded up in her arms.

  But
once she had started shopping, she couldn’t stop herself. There were just too many adorable options. And Imogen knew that Rachel and her husband did not have much, so the pleasure of shopping for the new baby had been even more intense.

  She had gorgeous sleepers with feet in them in a variety of woodsy themes, a tiny pair of hiking boots, a mobile with blue moose to hang over the crib and a fuzzy receiving blanket with the cutest little bear ears attached to it.

  She entered the hospital room and froze. Cristiano was there, standing quietly beside the bed, talking to Rachel. And where Cristiano was... Sure enough, when she looked behind it, Luca was on the other side of the open door.

  As if the Prince wasn’t devastatingly attractive enough, he was holding the baby!

  Imogen’s eyes smarted from the beauty of the sight of that strong, capable man holding that vulnerable, tiny baby.

  Luca was once again a prince. He was cleanly shaven, his hair was impeccably groomed; he wore a thigh-length belted black woolen jacket that most men could not have carried off. He looked exactly like what he was: a very wealthy, very powerful man, who was sure of himself in every situation.

  And yet, despite the rather untouchable look of him, and despite the fact he was apparently urgently needed back in Casavalle, Prince Luca had come personally to the hospital to visit a woman he barely knew.

  As she watched, the sleeping baby sighed and snuggled deeper into Luca’s chest. The Prince stroked the baby’s back and looked at him with such tenderness it felt as if Imogen’s heart would break.

  For the man she would never have. For the babies she would never have. For the ludicrousness of the dream that looking at the Prince caused in her.

  Her mouth went dry as she contemplated that dream. Her. Him. Babies, just as he had promised. Adopted or through some miracle of science.

  This was what hope did. It left you wide-open to pain.

  Imogen would have backed out the door, but the top box on her mountain of parcels chose that moment to tilt crazily and fall to the floor with a crash. Luca looked up.

  For one breathtaking moment, their gazes held. For one breathtaking moment, his eyes were entirely unguarded, soft with welcome.