The Prince's Christmas Wager

by Caroline Lee

  With a growl, Nova crumpled his letter in her fist.

  Just who is this guy?

  Whoever he was, he was waiting for her in the garage, lounging against the SUV she’d been assigned minutes ago by the clerk in the garage’s office. Enzio was dressed much the same way she was—unzipped parka, insulated pants, and cold-weather hiking boots—only his gear looked much more expensive than hers.

  And he somehow manages to look delicious, even in this get up.

  Right. There was that too.

  It was his expression which gave her pause. His usual smile was gone, and instead, he looked…unsure of himself. Or of her reaction. Unsure of something, and it made him a heck of a lot more appealing.

  You can’t afford to find him appealing. Any more appealing, and you’ll be giving him that kiss. Heck, you’ll be offering him that kiss! You’ll be begging him to let you kiss him!

  Stupid inner monologue.

  She was scowling as she stomped right by him and headed for the driver’s side door. “If you’re coming along, get in. We’re late.”

  His manner was almost meek as he climbed in beside her, and they didn’t speak as she exited the palace grounds and wove north around Solrighavn. And Lord help her, he seemed almost normal.

  She’d always been a sucker for normal.

  Her voice was probably still gruff when she finally spoke. “You just invited yourself along for the ride, huh?”

  “Well, you did say I could see you again.”

  “I didn’t mean while I worked,” she growled

  From the corner of her eye, she saw him shrug and prop his arm on the SUV’s door. “I didn’t have anything else planned for the day.”

  Because he didn’t have a job? Or because he was on vacation?

  She cleared her throat, her eyes on the road. “You know, all we talked about at dinner was me. I know nothing about you.”

  Like the fact you’re a second-cousin to royalty!

  “Does that bother you?” he asked quietly. “You’re the one driving. It’s not like I’ve kidnapped you and am dragging you Heaven-knows-where.”

  Nova’s eyes flicked towards him, not sure if that was supposed to be a joke. “I know where we’re going. And one of my friends knows too.”

  “Oh good. Insurance.” He nodded seriously. “You’ve certainly foiled my plans.”

  Ahead of them, the snow was beginning to stick to the road, but it was that slow and soft we-can-do-this-all-day sort of snow, so Nova wasn’t worried. “And what are your plans?”

  “For today?” He shifted slightly in his seat. “I figured I’d spend some more time getting to know you, hang out. Maybe get that kiss.”

  She snorted softly. Guess he found his charm again.

  “You know all about me. All about me. Even my schedule!”

  “It’s posted on your department calendar.”

  “Which only palace staff has access to!” she reminded him sharply.

  Instead of replying, he propped his chin on his palm and stared out his window. They were hugging the coast, so the scenery was gorgeous, but Nova couldn’t help but think he was avoiding her question.

  “Listen.” She had to take a deep breath, relax her grip on the wheel, and remind herself showing irritation wasn’t going to win any points. “I don’t know you. We’ve been on a date—sorry, out to dinner. You know all about me, but I don’t know anything about you.”

  Still looking out the window, he said in a soft voice, “Maybe there’s not that much to know.”

  She’d dubbed him a flirt, and that was all she’d needed to know. But had that been fair? Or did he deserve the chance to prove he was more than…than…than Wayne had been?

  “Did you really go to Cambridge?” she prodded him, hoping that was an easy way to start.

  “Yep.” He sighed and straightened, his hand flopping down once more. “Hinc lucem, up house, and all that. Studied the classics at St. John’s, which has been super useful, let me tell you.”

  She bit her lip to hide her smile, then second-guessed herself. Why didn’t she want him to see he’d amused her?

  Don’t want to encourage him, do I?

  “But you’re not British?”

  He hesitated before answering. “No,” he finally said in that caramel voice of his. “But I was raised surrounded by books and not much responsibility. I became a bit…of a loaf. I’ve got no real skills, just reading old books.”

  The defense was instinctual. “Hey! Reading old books—reading and understanding them!—is a useful skill!”

  “Oh, yeah.” He waved his hand languidly as his head fell back against the seat. “You’ve managed to turn that into something profitable and cool, because you’re so smart. Me? Totally useless.”

  There was a bitterness in his tone which told her he was being truthful. Repeating something which had been said to him in the past, maybe?

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly, and was surprised to discover she was. Her parents had raised her to believe she could do anything she wanted as long as she worked hard. It must stink to be told your skills weren’t worthwhile.

  Her right hand had already left the wheel by the time she realized she was reaching for him. To pat him? To reassure him? All she knew was she was going to touch him, and she couldn’t have that. Because if she touched him, and if she felt a connection with him, then there’d be nothing holding her back from falling completely for his charm.

  Instead she dropped her hand to the gear shift, and pretended that’s what she’d meant to do all along.

  Yeah, gotta be careful on these slippery roads.

  The snow-covered hills rolled past them, and the silence became awkward. Awkward to her at least, because she still had questions. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “Okay, so here’s my problem. You called yourself Marc Enzio, which I assumed was your family name, but you want to be called Enzio.”

  His quiet huff of laughter sounded self-deprecating. It was very different from the charming facade he’d shown her during that first meeting, and she wondered if this was a mask too. Had he taken her warning about not liking flirts to heart, and was now trying to be the opposite?

  “I have one of those names…” He sat forward suddenly, and ran his hand through his hair, messing the perfect strands. “I have one of those names which are about a mile long. My father is Marc—his dad was the one from Gerona—so I prefer to go by my second name.”

  She’d met Europeans with names like that, but most of them were titled. That would fit with him being a cousin to the Aegirian royals. Her irritation rose again at the thought of him keeping that information from her.

  So she asked icily, “And what are the rest of your names?”

  “Marc Enzio Frederic Carlo Jaime Kendran.”

  Her brows rose. “That is a mile long.”

  She made the mistake of glancing at him then, and he was looking at her.

  Oh no.

  A lock of his hair had fallen in front of his forehead, making him that much more approachable. Apparently she preferred her men mussed. Who knew? And his lips were twisted upwards on one side, as if inviting her into his private joke.

  No! No private jokes with men like that!

  Her gaze slammed back to the road ahead.

  “And your last name, Marc Enzio Frederico James blah blah blah?”

  A pause. Then, almost reluctantly, he said, “Technically Kendran is my family name. I guess you could say my last name is ‘of Velarno.’ ”

  Velarno.

  Her knuckles tightened around the gear shift. Of Velarno meant Enzio wasn’t just a second-cousin to royalty. He was royalty. A prince.

  She’d never been to Velarno, a small Alpine country between Italy and Austria, but not for lack of trying. The royal family held strict control of the country’s documents, and it had been difficult to find many sources on folklore, even with her connections to the universities. Presumably, there were sources, but without being emp
loyed in Velarno or enrolled in one of their colleges, she didn’t have much luck, so she’d set her sights on other small nations, like Aegiria.

  She cleared her throat. “Should I start calling you ‘Your Highness?’ ”

  Maybe he’d heard the hint of challenge—of anger—in her voice, because he was quick to say, “I wish you wouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Queen Viktoria of Aegiria had six sons and three step-sons. Of them, only Prince Alek—and maybe Arne—were used to being addressed as “Highness,” and that was because of their official positions in the Aegirian government. The rest of them were fairly down-to-earth men.

  Wait, you’re forgetting Viggo.

  Oh yeah, Prince Viggo. He’d probably been happy to have women call him “Highness” if it meant they’d sleep with him. That’d been the rumor of course, before he’d married Princess Marcia and introduced little Stefan as his son. Enzio was probably like the old Viggo had been: a playboy flirt who was willing to use all powers of persuasion—including reminding women he was a prince—to charm.

  So why doesn’t Enzio want you to call him Highness?

  Probably another ruse.

  She’d forgotten she’d asked him exactly that question, until he spoke.

  “My only skill is being a useless embarrassment of a prince, according to my father. The one thing I’m good at is getting women to like me, and I’m failing pretty miserably with you, aren’t I?”

  I’m liking you too much, Your Highness.

  Instead, she said, “I told you I don’t like flirts.”

  “Yeah, you said. So… When I’m around you, I’m failing at pretty much the only thing I’m usually good at, being a charming prince.” He shrugged. “I figured maybe you’d like me more if you didn’t think I was a prince.”

  “That’s why you didn’t introduce yourself properly at lunch the other day?”

  He was quiet long enough she glanced over at him, and was surprised to see a look of almost regret in his dark eyes, before he quickly turned forward once more.

  “Honestly, I expected to be able to smile at you, tell you I was Prince Enzio of Velarno, and you’d agree to kiss me. When you didn’t react the way I expected, I thought I’d try something different.”

  She frowned. “You thought you’d lie to me?”

  “No, I just didn’t—”

  “Let’s get one thing straight, Your Highness—”

  He interrupted this time. “Enzio.”

  “Enzio. I don’t like being lied to.” At all. Ever. Not even by charming princes. “I’m not going to stand for it.”

  Her blood was pounding in her ears, her hands ached from her grip on the wheel, and she was breathing heavily.

  Wayne lied to me, and I won’t be lied to again.

  It seemed like hours went by before he finally spoke.

  “I’m sorry, Nova.”

  He seemed…sincere.

  Remember, he’s good at seeming.

  Yeah, but this time his sincere seeming seemed sincere.

  What does that even mean?

  She forced herself to breathe normally, to unclench her hands and jaw, to relax her shoulders. Enzio had an arsenal of weapons ready to charm, but unless he was very, very good, his humbleness was convincing.

  Besides, they were stuck together in this car. It’s not like she could just put him out on the side of the road and make him walk back to the capitol.

  “Anything else you want to tell me?”

  He snorted softly. “All sorts of things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like who I am, I guess.”

  When he didn’t continue right away, she prompted him. “And who are you?”

  “I’m the youngest of five, and I don’t do anything. Anything worth-while, I guess.” He took a deep breath, then continued in that delicious voice of his. “I have four older sisters. Tilde is the heir, and is perfect in every way. The twins are model princesses, and Perla is next-youngest to me. She’s the coolest.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Listening to him talk about himself was strangely relaxing. At least, it was putting her at ease, and wasn’t that an interesting realization? But she felt herself sink back into her seat, more comfortable now that he was really sharing parts of himself.

  “She’s the one who’d get into trouble with me, but I think the rest of them saw me as an annoying little brother. Even if I am twenty-eight.”

  “I’m twenty-eight too!”

  “I know.” When she glanced at him, his smile was a little sheepish. “I told you, I wanted to know all about you. Besides, princes…well, we do things differently.”

  “You create dossiers on women you want to kiss?”

  “Um… Yes.” He shrugged. “Sorry. It’s not my idea, it was security’s. But I read through it, and here’s this woman the same age as me, and look at everything she’s accomplished!” He tossed his hand out, gesturing at the passing coastline. “She’s published books, she’s got a doctorate already, she’s traveling all over the world. And me? I’m visiting my cousins for Christmas.”

  With a slight huff, he sank back in his seat, and if Nova didn’t know better, she would’ve thought he was pouting.

  Princes don’t pout.

  Especially gorgeous ones like His Highness, Marc Enzio of Velarno.

  Except…maybe he did? This man certainly was a conundrum. Who was the real man, the real prince? The flirtatious charmer who wanted a kiss from a strange woman, or the self-deprecating, intelligent man who collected stories and didn’t want her to know he was a prince?

  There was one thing he was for certain: a mystery. And she couldn’t resist a mystery.

  Sighing, she offered him a slight twist of her lips, not quite a smile, but enough for him to know she was willing to keep talking to him. After all, they were stuck in a car together for at least another half-hour.

  “I don’t have any cousins. Well, not any I know well enough to spend Christmas with.”

  “Really?” He shifted in his seat until he was facing her as much as the belt would allow. “So are you going home to visit your parents instead?”

  She shook her head. “They’re in New York, although you probably know that.”

  “I didn’t, actually. It felt invasive, so I didn’t read most of your file.” When he smiled this time, his eyes crinkled. “Besides, I got depressed by all of your accomplishments.”

  Crinkle.

  Swoon!

  Nova forced her eyes back on the road. “So, ah—yeah. New York. I don’t have any siblings, but I told my parents I wouldn’t be home this year because of the documentary. Her Majesty is set on showing it at the Christmas Eve Ball.”

  “So you’ll need to be there for that, makes sense.”

  She nodded. “The way things are going, it looks like we’ll be working on it up ‘til the last minute.”

  “Really? Tell me about it.”

  He sounded genuinely interested. When she glanced at him, he was staring at her as if he had all day, and offered her a little smile. A real one, like he actually wanted to hear about her hard work.

  So she told him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The last hour of their trip flew by as Nova spoke about her work on the documentary. Enzio hadn’t been this enthralled since…well, since his date with her the other day, frankly. She was just so interesting!

  She outlined how they—her team and herself—had identified the best candidates for the documentary, and invited them to the palace for interviews in the little studio she’d set up. He asked her questions about the process and how she’d chosen her subjects, and the filming itself. It was cool to hear the behind-the-scenes details and to compare them to what he knew, and it turned out they’d seen many of the same documentaries on the History Channel.

  That conversation led to a discussion about Aegirian history, and he explained how his maternal grandmother had been the younger sister of Queen Viktoria’s mother. So his
mother and the queen were cousins, and fairly close.

  “So that’s how you know this legend about the Star of Aegiria? Because you’re related to the royal family here?”

  He nodded, slouched comfortably in the SUV’s passenger seat. “My grandmother was a history buff, and she brought her favorite books from the library here when she married my grandfather, who was still the Crown Prince back then. My mother was their only child, and she was focused on preparing to rule—like Tilde is, I guess. And Dad doesn’t see any value in studying the past.” He frowned, remembering arguments he’d had with his father over the years. “So Nonna shared her books with me and Perla. I’m the one who really was interested though, so we used to chat about them.”

  Beside him, Nova made a little noise, and when he looked over, she looked as if…as if she was trying not to smile. Which was a shame. She hadn’t allowed herself to smile much around him, especially not since he’d confessed to being a prince, albeit an insignificant one. So why was she trying not to smile now?

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing!” She glanced at him, then back at the road, but not before he saw the sparkle in her blue eyes. “I’m just imagining you and this old lady sitting together, gushing over these old books. Was there tea involved? Please say you were sipping tea!”

  He sniffed, pretending to be offended. “I’ll have you know my grandmother makes the best tea in the world. However, these are archival text. We most certainly were not sipping tea while handling them.”

  “Were you wearing gloves?”

  “Nonna always wears gloves; she’s old school.” He finally gave in and smiled. “But yeah, I was wearing mine.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  She blew out a breath which sounded suspiciously close to a raspberry. “And is that where you read about the Star?”

  Oh, yeah.

  Enzio had forgotten about his little subterfuge to keep her wanting to be around him. Would she think it was a lie, if she found out?

  No, it’s just enticement. Like Scheherazade in One Thousand and One Nights.

  Maybe she’d actually believe that.

  “I think that’s where I read about the original meaning. I haven’t been able to find much online.”