Christmas Encounter with a Prince

by Katrina Cudmore

  When the helicopter eventually landed on a helipad to the side of the chalet, located on a hill overlooking Verbier, she greeted terra firma with shaky legs and a heavy sigh of relief to be still alive.

  A path from the landing pad to the chalet had been cleared of snow. She and Luis immediately followed it to the welcoming warmth of the chalet, while awaiting staff took care of their luggage.

  Inside, Luis led her from the entranceway through various reception rooms, giving her a guided tour of the huge chalet, which even had an indoor swimming pool and cinema room.

  When they finally made it to her bedroom, her luggage had already been unpacked.

  Soon after, all of the chalet staff said their goodbyes, Luis reassuring them that there was no need for them to change their existing Christmas plans and that he and she would be perfectly capable of taking care of themselves for the next two days. As the lights from the staff cars made their way down the mountain she gestured around her, to the vast reception room that was softly lit with table lamps, to the huge log fire burning in the grate, filling the room with pine-scented warmth, the reflection of the flames dancing on the endless windows overlooking Verbier, and the longest and most luxurious sofa she had ever seen, and said, ‘When you said a chalet, I was expecting a tiny log cabin.’

  Luis grinned. ‘We do own a small cabin further up in the mountains. We use it whilst skiing for refreshment breaks. We can decamp there if you’d prefer for us to be somewhere a little more intimate.’

  For crazy seconds her heart folded over at the playful sparkle in his eye. But then she gave an exaggerated eye roll to compensate for her foolishness. None of this was serious to Luis. Now she could see that. He was looking for a distraction, an adventure, a new buzz. The man was an adrenaline freak. And she would be incredibly naive to believe that his attention was anything other than yet another entertaining diversion for him.

  Walking over to the window, the bright lights of an outdoor Christmas tree in a far-off neighbouring property caught her attention. Spinning around, she scanned the room curiously. ‘Something has been niggling away at me since we arrived and now I know what it is.’ Pausing to gesture around the room, she added, ‘There are no Christmas decorations.’

  Leaning against the long wooden beam that served as the mantelpiece, Luis shrugged. ‘I told the staff to take them down.’

  For long seconds the crackling of the fire was the only sound in the room. She tried to respond but could find no words. Tears prickled against the backs of her eyes. She never cried. She so wished he wouldn’t keep ambushing her emotions by being so considerate.

  She breathed in and forced out a pretty shaky laugh. ‘If we’re going to spend Christmas in an Alpine chalet, in one of the most picturesque winter scenes in the entire world, we are going to have to do it justice. Where are the decorations stored?’

  Walking towards her, he regarded her with such a depth of concern that those damn tears threatened again. ‘We can pretend tomorrow is just a normal day.’

  She folded her arms. ‘Work with me here, Luis. I’ve given up two days of writing for this. I’m going to try to embrace Christmas—okay, I’ll admit I’ll never be a huge fan of its madness, but for you I’ll try.’

  ‘For me?’

  Her heart closed over at the quiet delight in his voice. ‘Yes, for you.’

  ‘Why?’

  Because you’re the kindest, most generous person I have ever met. Because I’m tired of being sensible. I want to forget that I should be questioning everything that you do and I want to try to believe that there are good guys out there. I’m tired of fighting myself. I’m tired of pretending that I’m perfectly content in my life. I want some fun. For once in my life I just want to go with the flow and not be terrified by what-ifs.

  ‘Because I spent three hours this morning buying gifts and I want to be able to leave them under a Christmas tree tonight.’ Walking to the door that led out to the double-height hallway that held a masterpiece of design—the most incredible cantilevered wooden staircase she had ever seen—she asked, ‘Now, are you going to show me where the decorations are or do I have to find them myself?’

  * * *

  An hour later Alice teetered on a stepladder, stretched just a little bit more, and with a grin managed to place the star on top of the enormous fir Christmas tree Luis had dragged in from outside.

  It was a struggle to climb back down the ladder, thanks to Luis’s hand being perilously close to her bottom as he guided her down.

  When she reached the floor they both stood back and studied the exquisite white baubles and flashing icicle lights, then turned to each other at the exact same time and high-fived one another, laughing at their mutual delight at a job well done.

  But then Luis frowned at the tree. ‘It’s tradition in Monrosa that, when people finish decorating the tree, they kiss. It’s supposed to bring good luck.’

  Alice laughed. ‘No, it’s not.’

  His eyes twinkled. ‘We could make it a tradition between us.’

  How nice that would be. How nice it would be to spend future Christmases with him. To know that he understood why she struggled with past Christmas memories, to know that maybe she could heal those memories with his support.

  She drew in a sharp breath. And came back to reality. ‘I’ll be in Ireland next year and, if Kara and Edwin have their way, you’ll be in Monrosa singing Christmas carols with them. There won’t be any future Christmases between us.’ Pausing, she met his eye. ‘Will there?’

  He went to answer her question but stopped. Uncertainty clouded his expression. She turned away and adjusted one of the strings of lights.

  When Luis came and stood beside her she glanced at him. Mischief was once again sparking in his eyes. He bent his head and whispered as though they were in a crowded room and didn’t want anyone else to hear, ‘All the more reason for us to enjoy this Christmas. Now can I kiss you or are you going to insist on debating the issue?’

  She knew she should walk away, but when he was this close, when her head spun from his warm, intimate scent, from the sheer size of his body that made her feel tiny in comparison, when his gaze made her heart thump in her chest, a delicious warmth creep through her veins, she didn’t want to know about logic or doing the sensible thing. ‘Keep it brief.’

  He laughed and hit a button on his watch. ‘Is ten seconds brief enough for you?’

  ‘That’s too—’ The rest of her words disappeared as his mouth found hers. It was a soft kiss, explorative and gentle. Her world shrank to the glorious heat of his mouth.

  His alarm sounded.

  She moved closer to him.

  His arms wound around her as the alarm was silenced. His hand touched against her back where her jumper and jeans had parted. She sighed as his thumb pressed against her spine.

  His alarm sounded again.

  But, instead of breaking away, he silenced it again and deepened their kiss. Her chest was pressed against his, her body growing second by second more and more aware of every hard muscle of his powerful body. His kiss, his warmth, his assured movements didn’t frighten her, didn’t cause alarm as her previous dates had done.

  On the third sounding of his alarm he pulled away from the kiss, leaving her a reeling mess of hormones and emotions.

  Was she really trusting a man? After so many years of rightly protecting herself?

  In the aftermath of his violence her dad had used to cry and plead for her mum’s forgiveness, hugging and soothing her as though she were the most fragile thing on earth, placing tender kisses on her forehead. It had made Alice’s skin crawl...yet she had also wanted to believe him.

  Luis’s hand cupped her cheek. ‘You’re so beautiful.’

  She searched his eyes, looking for even a glimmer of deceit. But all she could find was honest certainty and integrity shining from his eyes. And she lost anoth
er piece of her heart to him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘IT’S MY MUM!’ Stumbling into the kitchen, yanking down a turquoise pyjama top covered in polar bears over matching shorts, Alice waved her mobile phone in the air. ‘I slept in. Why didn’t you wake me? I promised my mum I’d call her at nine on the dot. She’s probably freaking out now, imagining all sorts of bad things happening to me.’ Frantically looking about her, she mumbled, ‘Not in here...the sitting room, in front of the tree.’ She bolted towards the door, disappeared, but a few seconds later she was back. ‘My mum thinks that I’m still in London—don’t do anything to let her know otherwise.’ She moved away again but darted back once more. ‘And she doesn’t know that I’m with you.’

  Finishing off preparing their breakfast, Luis grinned. Alice’s coltish legs were long and shapely. What would it be like to trail kisses along their length, to have them entwined with his? He groaned and plucked a blueberry off the top of the granola he had prepared for them, crunching down on it.

  He poured himself a coffee. Not knowing where any of this was going. He knew he had to be honourable and protect her. But a hunger, a need to know her better, in every sense of that word, was tearing apart every good intention he had. To start with, he needed to stop kissing her. Dio! But it was addictive. The chemistry, the passion, the rightness between them was unbelievable. When he touched her he felt truly alert to the beauty and glory of life.

  He strolled out to the sitting room. Alice, seated on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, was screen-chatting on her phone, which was propped up on a coffee table. She eyed him warily for a moment as he sat on the sofa opposite her, frowning when he grinned. He was going to enjoy this.

  ‘What’s the weather like?’ asked a female voice.

  She glanced out of the window, her eyes growing wide as she took in the heavy snow falling. He really should have checked the weather forecast before he promised her a day’s skiing.

  ‘Oh, the usual... So how are you all doing? I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.’

  A chorus of voices called out, ‘Yes,’ and then a male voice added, ‘No.’

  A vexed female voice immediately responded, ‘Maurice, you heard what Dr Lynch said with your very own ears. Anyway, Alice doesn’t want to be hearing about your new diet. Come on, Alice, give us a tour of the house.’

  Alice blanched. ‘Aunt Nina, there’s not a lot to see.’

  ‘Are you joking? It’s the London residence of the Monrosian royal family. Of course there’s things to see.’

  She gave Luis a brief look, reddening. ‘No.’

  ‘Ah, Alice, you’re no fun.’

  Alice sighed. But then, sweeping her presents before her, she gave a wide smile, no doubt glad to find a way to move this conversation on. Lifting one up, she pulled away the wrapping paper. ‘An exfoliate—thanks, Rose.’

  A satisfied voice answered, ‘The girl in the shop said we should all be using it, on our thighs especially, for cellulite.’

  For a moment Alice looked down at her thighs in alarm.

  Luis smothered a laugh. Alice glared at him.

  One by one, Alice opened her presents, her enthusiasm and warmth towards those on the other side of the screen giving no hint of her dislike of Christmas. Did she keep it secret from them?

  When it came to the last present, Alice read the gift tag and said, ‘Oh, Sarah, I didn’t realise that you had bought me a present.’

  An excited teenage voice answered back, ‘I saw it when I was out shopping. I thought you’d like it.’

  Opening the present, Alice frowned. And then she reddened. Turning the present towards the camera, she attempted nonchalance. ‘A calendar of Edwin’s brother, Prince Luis. I didn’t know you were fan, Sarah?’

  ‘I saw you in the garden—’

  Leaping for the phone, Alice interrupted her. ‘Thanks again, Sarah. It was lovely speaking to you all, but I’d better go. I have to get back to work.’

  A voice answered, ‘Of course, Ally. But hold on for a moment, I’ll go somewhere where we can chat properly.’

  Alice smiled fondly at the person talking, everything about her softening with affection. ‘You’re busy, Mum. We can talk tomorrow.’

  A door closed at the other end of the line. ‘That’s better. This house is crazier than usual. How are you? I miss you.’

  ‘I miss you too.’

  ‘Are you eating okay? Are you sure you’re not lonely? It seems wrong that you’re all alone, especially at Christmas when you love it so much. It’s not the same here without you.’

  ‘I’m fine, Mum, honestly.’ Pausing, she glanced at Luis. ‘And I’m not lonely.’

  ‘Good. I like your pyjamas.’

  Alice ran a hand down over her top, shaking her head. ‘I’m thirty next year, Mum. I think it’s time you stopped buying me Christmas pyjamas.’

  ‘It’s too cold at this time of year to be wearing nothing in bed.’

  Blushing furiously, she swung away from Luis’s line of sight. ‘Mum! Honestly.’

  Her mother laughed and then asked, ‘Will you come home at least for New Year’s Eve?’

  ‘Mum, you know that I can’t. I need peace and quiet to get my writing done. You know how noisy my upstairs neighbours are.’

  Her mum sighed. ‘I know. I love you, Ally.’

  Turning back in Luis’s direction, Alice smiled into her phone. ‘And I love you too. I’ll be home soon. Take care and enjoy the rest of the day.’

  Something hard and obstinate stuck in his throat as Alice hung up, both women giggling as they made noisy kisses to one another. He missed that simple, uncompromising love. He missed his mother.

  Coming to sit opposite him, she sighed.

  ‘Your mum doesn’t know how you really feel about Christmas?’ he asked.

  She curled her legs underneath herself. ‘There’s no point in her knowing.’

  ‘But you seem so close...’

  She shrugged. ‘We are, but she went through enough with my dad without having to bear the burden of how it impacted on me. For a while I was angry with her. After she left my dad I just shut down. I was angry with her for taking so long to leave him, but I was also unfairly angry with her for not staying.’ Sinking further into the corner of the sofa, she added, ‘I hated my dad, but I loved him too. I couldn’t understand how I could feel that way. When he played professional rugby, I’d beg him not to go to work. Most months he ended up with some type of injury. Concussion, pulled muscles. When he did finally retire, he didn’t do so out of choice. He hated not playing, being part of the team. That was when his drinking worsened. He’d promise that he’d stop drinking, say he was sorry. I used to believe him. My mum rarely spoke to me about what was going on; I guess she was trying to protect me. I tried to speak to her about it, but she’d tell me not to worry. So in that vacuum of silence, not sure of what was the right thing to say, I’d tell her that Dad promised that things would get better. Why did I believe him? And what if I hadn’t said those things to my mum? Maybe she would have left him much sooner than she did?’

  He moved over and sat beside her. ‘Your father, and only he, was responsible for what happened. No one else.’

  She shrugged. ‘I guess you’re right.’

  ‘And will you start actually believing that? That you weren’t in any way to blame for what happened?’

  She didn’t answer him.

  ‘You were not to blame.’

  She nodded, her eyes full of emotion. ‘You have an incredible instinct for understanding people; you do realise that, don’t you?’

  He lifted up the calendar from the floor. ‘Like the instinct that tells me that you’re going to throw this into the bin at the earliest opportunity?’

  She groaned, covering her face with her hands. ‘I had forgotten about that. Sarah must have seen us together in
the garden.’

  ‘Isn’t she the cousin you had the bet with?’

  ‘Bet? No... Why...? Oh, the bet to kiss you. No! Sarah is only fourteen—I wouldn’t be encouraging a teenager to gamble.’ Taking the calendar from him, she flicked through it, laughing when he expressed his disbelief that there was a market for such a thing. ‘I’m sure it’ll be snapped up when I donate it to my local charity shop.’

  He shook his head. ‘Well, at least it’ll be going to a good cause.’

  She studied him. ‘Are you involved in many charities as part of your royal duties?’

  ‘I’m a patron of the national acquired brain injury charity and an ambassador for Kara’s Young Adults Together, but my professional career meant that I haven’t been able to dedicate myself as much as I would have liked to either of them.’

  ‘I bet you’re great in those roles though...with your energy and how engaging you are with people. And now that you’re leaving powerboating you’ll have more time to devote to them.’

  How could he explain to her what a fraud he felt whenever advocating for any charity, when trying to influence change? As his father had liked to point out, he had achieved nothing in life other than to learn how to drive a boat really fast. ‘I’m not sure I’m the best of role models. Especially as the British press has decided to label me The Reckless Prince.’

  ‘Okay, so you’re known for pushing boundaries, taking risks. But young people would relate to that. Your intuition and natural instinct to help are too valuable for you not to put them to good use.’

  ‘I’m the last person on this earth who should be advising anyone on how to live their life, given my past. Expelled from school, a drop-out from university, and for the first few years of my career I came bottom in the rankings, thanks to too many rash decisions out on the course.’

  ‘People, especially teenagers, aren’t looking for perfection. Just someone who’s honest and knows what it’s like to struggle at times.’