by Lara Hunter
THE PRINCE’S CINDERELLA LOVE
By Lara Hunter
Copyright 2016 by Lara Hunter
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.
All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.
Table Of Contents:
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
ONE
Before we begin, have you joined my mailing list yet? For news, special offers, and FREE bonus chapters, subscribe today!
CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP
Snow drifted lazily past the window, tossed about by the occasional breathy gasp of wind. It was getting close to the shortest day of the year, and the dark, mottled clouds were barely visible in the dying afternoon light. At home, the streetlamps would already be lit. The sky would look brown in the reflected light, and it wouldn’t get nearly as dark as it already was out here. They say New York City never sleeps. Upstate New York, however, was about to slip into a deep and dreamy slumber.
“I’m going,” Barb announced.
I spun around to face her. “Right. See you tomorrow.”
“Drive safe, the snow is going to get pretty heavy later!”
The older woman trundled off toward the front door, but I stayed put. I wanted to gaze at the snowfall just a little longer. It settled delicately on the shrubs and evergreens in the sprawling back garden, frosting them in pure, perfect white.
I wondered whether it was quieter inside or outside the house right now. Now that Barb had left, there was only me, alone in the mansion. Outside, there was a whole wide world—but the hedged fence surrounding the property seemed to block it out entirely.
Either way, it was getting late. If I wanted to at least hit a reasonable section of the Friday traffic, I had to scoot. Sighing, I turned from the window, picked up my bucket, and headed back toward the foyer.
I passed under vaulted ceilings, through elaborate sitting rooms, and finally into a modern laundry room that served as Barb and my cleaning headquarters. After putting back my bucket and throwing my cloth into the laundry, I slipped on my coat and grabbed my purse. It was time to hit the road and head back to the bustling city.
I ran through a mental shopping list on my way to the mansion’s front door. I would probably need to stop somewhere on the way to grab dinner; I wasn’t sure if I had enough energy to bother cooking.
I placed a hand on the ornate iron door handle, but it turned underneath my fingers before I could begin to move it.
I darted back, unnerved by the prospect of finding out who was on the other side of the door. Clutching my purse in my hands, I prepared to make use of my makeshift weapon.
The door swung inward, and I held my breath as Prince Kasper van Dijk, my boss, walked inside, brushing flakes of snow from his glowing blond hair.
“I’m so sorry!” I said, lowering my bag. “I swear I wasn’t planning to bludgeon you with my purse.”
My face flamed with heat. I could not have chosen a worse person to arm myself against.
“Hello, Laurie,” he said. “It’s nice to see you, too.”
My heart warmed. We rarely saw each other, so the fact that he even remembered my name was impressive. And hearing it in the delightful accent of his mother country turned made my insides feel fuzzy.
The Prince stepped into the foyer, dragging his suitcase behind him.
I sprung forward. “Can I help?”
He shook his head. “I’m okay. I need you to keep watch in case any dubious characters try to walk in behind me.”
My blush only continued to rise. “Again, I’m so sorry about that. I was just leaving and I wasn’t expecting to see anyone because Barb left already and I didn’t realize you’d be home so early…” I trailed off, grimacing. “And now I’m holding you hostage with my boring explanation. Again, sorry.”
Kasper closed the door behind him and began brushing the snow off his long, woolen coat. His hands were encased in soft leather gloves, a burgundy scarf wrapped around his neck. He looked like he’d walked straight out of the winter catalogue for a high-end men’s fashion label.
“It’s all right, really,” he assured me. He smiled, highlighting the dimple on the right side of his face. “I thought I’d be coming home to an empty mansion. It’s nice to come home to a warm welcome.”
I shifted my weight uncomfortably on my feet. He was still standing in front of the door, which was where I needed to be. And he didn’t seem intent on moving anytime soon. Like the neat gentleman he was, the Prince had begun to remove his gloves. He’d move on to the scarf next, then the jacket. And all the while, I’d be standing there like an awkward statue.
“You were on your way out?” he said then.
Relief flooded through me. “Yes,” I said, smiling. “Barb already left. I got distracted looking out the window.”
Kasper laughed, exposing perfectly straight, white teeth. “I do that too, sometimes.” One glove slid off, and he placed it gently on the table next to the door. “Especially when the squirrels are out.”
I’d never talked to Kasper this long before. Normally, I saw him in passing, if at all, and we exchanged a, “Hi, how are you?” and then a, “Good, yourself?” I was out of my depth.
“Am I in your way?” the Prince asked, noticing my apparent discomfort.
Embarrassment rushed through me again. Could I be any less cool?
“I’m not in a rush,” I said. “Take your time; I’m building up the courage to go out into the cold anyway.”
“I just don’t want to drip water all over the house,” he explained, dropping his other glove onto the table. “Not when you do such a great job of keeping it clean for me.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” I replied.
He smiled disarmingly. “I hope you’ll remember that the next time you have to clean up after one of my parties.”
I laughed. “I think the extra pay does more than enough to placate me there.”
He unwound the scarf from his neck, hanging it on the coat hook next to the door. I suppressed the urge to take the scarf over to the closet and put it away.
“There’s supposed to be some bad weather tonight,” he said. “I caught an earlier flight so I wouldn’t end up delayed or rerouted.”
“Good call.”
The Prince shrugged off his coat, revealing a navy cashmere sweater and a pair of charcoal dress pants underneath. He looked stately and dignified, though I doubted anyone could view him as anything but that, no matter what he was wearing. Kasper must have been about 6’4” or so, and his body wasn’t the only thing that was statuesque. He had the kind of cheekbones and full lips that belonged on a Renaissance sculpture.
With his jacket hung next to his scarf, the Prince turned to me with a smile. “I suppose I should be letting you get on your way.”
“I suppose I should be getting on my way,” I replied. “I’m sorry, again, if I startled you.�
��
Kasper’s throaty laugh filled the foyer. “No offence, Laurie, but it takes a lot more than a woman half my size wielding a handbag to set me on edge.”
“Hey,” I complained, brandishing my purse. “You don’t know what I’ve got in here.”
“I’m terrified,” he said flatly.
“You should be,” I grinned.
Kasper’s smile seemed to light the space with warmth. “Are you on your way to do something?” he asked. “I hate to dine alone. Perhaps you could join me.”
At those five words, my heart leapt into my throat. I hoped to God I could still speak.
“I was planning to grab dinner on the way home,” I said. “Having something to eat that’s not fast food would actually be great.”
I shouldn’t have said yes. My car was the junkiest of lemons, and probably wouldn’t fare too well on the roads as they were. If the snow started to really come down, I’d be in a real pickle. But Kasper smiled, and all practical thoughts were wiped from my brain.
“I’d love to,” I confirmed.
“Great,” Kasper smiled, finally moving away from the door. “I’m just going to put my things away. I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a few minutes.”
He ascended the great curving staircase to my left. It took me a few moments to get it together before I realized I needed to take off my jacket before I could be having dinner with anyone. And I couldn’t stand in the foyer looking dumbfounded all night.
Prince Kasper wanted to have dinner with me? Worried I’d fallen asleep gazing out the window, I pinched myself to check it wasn’t a dream—but it wasn’t. This was really happening.
I paced over to the laundry room, entering the warm, fragrant air with a lengthy exhale.
He’s just being nice.
All the same, I couldn’t help the bubbling glee that filled my stomach. I’d been crushing on Prince Kasper since the moment I got the job.
And now, I would be joining him for dinner.
TWO
Luckily, I always carried a spare change of clothes with me in case I needed to go somewhere after work. I changed into my normal clothes before heading over to the kitchen, uncertain why we would be meeting there in the first place. I didn’t know where Kasper normally hung out while he waited for the chef to make his meals, but it wasn’t the kitchen.
Yet there he was at the island, looking gorgeous as ever, holding a knife.
Wait, what?
“Where’s Michael?” I asked curiously.
Michael Cosgrove, the Prince’s personal chef, was one of the friendliest people employed at the mansion. Barb and I were often looked down on by the other staff because we were merely the cleaners, but Michael always had time to tell me a bad joke or ask me about my day.
“I texted him from the airport and told him to go home,” Kasper explained. He jerked the knife in the direction of the bar stools across from him. “Have a seat.”
I slid down onto the bar stool, still feeling awkward. A member of the Dutch royal house was cutting up carrots, and I was just sitting there, watching.
“Can I help?” I asked.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Relax, please. It’s been some time since I had the opportunity to cook for anyone.”
“You like cooking?”
“I like the simplicity of it,” he replied. “Carrots have no politics. You can cook a steak without worrying about how it will affect your global reputation.”
“Speak for yourself,” I said. “Anytime I cook carrots, they’re always arranging themselves into factions.”
Kasper glanced up at me, his bright blue eyes lit with amusement. “Do you have any plans for Christmas?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Not really. My brothers and I usually go to stay with my mom in the city. I reckon we’ll go ice skating at some point, but probably not get up to too much else. What about you?”
Kasper moved on from carrots to the heads of broccoli next to the cutting board. “Christmas has always been a big deal back in Holland,” he said. “We first popularized the Christmas tree, you know.”
“I did know that actually,” I replied, snaking my hand out for a piece of carrot. I popped it into my mouth. “And you turned carrots orange.”
Kasper smiled at me approvingly. “Very good, Miss Flowers.”
“Well you learn a few things when you work for a Dutch prince,” I said, trying my best to appear calm and collected though I was still flabbergasted by the situation I’d found myself in. “And when you take a class on early modern English history. William of Orange, and all that jazz.”
“I can see I chose the best available dinner companion.”
I chuckled. “The only available dinner companion.”
“That’s not quite true,” Kasper corrected. “That actress neighbor of mine has been relentless in trying to secure an invitation to come over.”
I beamed. Kasper’s actress neighbor was not just any actress, but one of Hollywood’s most glamorous. When she wasn’t filming, she stayed in her boxy, modern monstrosity a quarter mile down the road. I delighted in the knowledge that I’d been chosen over her. Come to think of it, for a man with the reputation of a womanizer, I’d never seen Kasper bring any women home.
“I’m glad you chose me,” I said finally. “This already looks much more delicious than whatever I was going to eat.”
Kasper looked down at the roughly chopped collection of vegetables on the cutting board, then back up to me. “Whatever you say,” he said, chuckling as he reached for last stalk of broccoli. “Do you like working here?” he asked then.
“Of course,” I replied instantly.
It wasn’t a lie, exactly. I wouldn’t have worked for the Prince for so long if I hated it. There was just something else I would rather have been doing.
“And how did you come to work here?” he asked. “I vaguely remember Barbara telling me you’re a student?”
I opened my mouth to explain my situation, but at that same moment, Kasper sliced through the broccoli at an awkward angle. The knife continued slicing at that angle—right through the tip of his finger.
Kasper cursed in Dutch, dropping the knife.
I sprang out of my chair. “Stay still,” I said calmly.
Kasper looked at me questioningly, holding his injured hand. I doubted he was used to people telling him what to do, but I was in my element now.
“It’s fine,” he said.
I pulled the hand away from where he clutched it near his chest. “It’s bleeding heavily,” I replied. “Let me have a look.”
The cut was deep, but not so serious as to require a visit to the emergency room. “Hang on a minute while I grab the first aid kit,” I told him.
“I didn’t even know I had one.”
I laughed, disappearing into the hall. When I came back, Kasper was exactly where I’d left him. I swabbed the wound clean with some antiseptic wipes and bound it. Kasper watched me intently all the while, and my face burned under his gaze.
“Hold it up like this for a few minutes,” I said finally. “Keeping it above your heart will help slow the bleeding.” I’d just tightened the bandage, and now held his hand up to his shoulder. I could barely reach up that far—I had to shuffle close to him, almost so that our chests were touching.
Kasper looked at his hand, to my outstretched arm, to me. “You’re pretty good at this.”
I laughed. “I should hope so. I’m going to be a doctor one day.”
He cocked his head, studying me. “And what’s an aspiring doctor doing cleaning my mansion?” he asked.
I glanced up at his inquisitive eyes, wishing I could just spill everything and be done with it. I was at odds with myself. On one hand, I felt comfortable talking to the Prince. He had a relaxed air about him and never acted superior to me or anyone else I saw him interact with. On the other hand, he was my boss. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful for my job. And to top it off, he was a prince; I wasn’t going to whine to him about my fin
ancial problems and end up sounding like I was asking for a handout. My mother had taught me some manners.
“Hopefully a good job,” I deflected with a smile.
It was then I realized how long I’d been holding Kasper’s hand. I pulled my hand away, immediately missing the warmth of his.
“You do a wonderful job,” Kasper said warmly.
“Good.”
I took a couple steps back, realizing I was still standing too close to him. It was bad enough having a crush on him. The last thing I needed was for him to know about it.