Christmas with the Prince

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Christmas with the Prince Page 3

by Michelle Celmer


  He rang a bell, and within seconds a man dressed in characteristic butler apparel seemed to materialize from thin air.

  “Breakfast for our guest, Geoffrey,” he said.

  Geoffrey nodded and slipped away as stealthily as he’d emerged.

  Liv folded her hands in her lap and, because most of her time was spent huddled over her laptop or a microscope, reminded herself to sit up straight.

  “I trust you slept well,” the prince said.

  She nodded. “I woke at seven thinking it was last night, then I looked outside and noticed that the sun was on the wrong side of the horizon.”

  “I guess you were more tired than you thought.”

  “I guess so. But I’m anxious to get down to the lab. You said I’ll get a password for the door?”

  “Yes, in fact…” He pulled a slip of paper from his shirt pocket and handed it to her. As she took it, she felt lingering traces of heat from his body and her cheeks flushed deeper red.

  She unfolded the paper and looked at the code—a simple seven-digit number—then handed it back to him.

  “Don’t you want to memorize it?” he asked.

  “I just did.”

  His eyes widened with surprise, and he folded the paper and put it back in his pocket. “Your ID badge will be ready this morning. You’ll want to wear it all the time, so you’re not stopped by security. It will grant you full access to the castle, with the exception of the royal family’s quarters of course, and any of our agricultural facilities or fields.”

  “You mentioned something about a map of the castle,” she said, too embarrassed to admit that she’d actually gotten lost on her way to breakfast.

  “Of course. I’ll have Derek print one up for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So,” Prince Aaron said, lounging back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. “Tell me about yourself. About your family.”

  “Oh, I don’t have any family.”

  Confusion wrinkled his brow. “Everyone has family.”

  “I’m an orphan. I was raised in the New York foster care system.”

  His expression sobered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

  She shrugged. “No reason to be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

  “Do you mind my asking what happened to your parents?”

  It’s not like her past was some big secret. She had always embraced who she was, and where she came from. “No, I don’t mind. My mom died a long time ago. She was a drug addict. Social services took me away from her when I was three.”

  “What about your father?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  At the subtle lift of his brow, she realized how odd that sounded, like she was the product of a virgin birth or something. When the more likely scenario was that her mother had been turning tricks for drug money, and whoever the man was, he probably had no idea he’d fathered a child. And probably wouldn’t care if he did know.

  She told the prince, “Of course someone was my father. He just wasn’t listed on my birth certificate.”

  “No grandparents? Aunts or uncles?”

  She shrugged again. “Maybe. Somewhere. No one ever came forward to claim me.”

  “Have you ever tried to find them?”

  “I figure if they didn’t want me back then, they wouldn’t want me now, either.”

  He frowned, as though he found the idea disturbing.

  “It’s really not a big deal,” she assured him. “I mean, it’s just the way it’s always been. I learned to fend for myself.”

  “But you did have a foster family.”

  “Families,” she corrected. “I had twelve of them.”

  His eyes widened. “Twelve? Why so many?”

  “I was…difficult.”

  A grin ticked at the corner of his mouth. “Difficult?”

  “I was very independent.” And maybe a little arrogant. None of her foster parents seemed to appreciate a child who was smarter than them and not afraid to say so, and one who had little interest in following their rules. “I was emancipated when I was fifteen.”

  “You were on your own at fifteen?”

  She nodded. “Right after I graduated from high school.”

  He frowned and shook his head, as if it was a difficult concept for him to grasp. “Forgive me for asking, but how does an orphan become a botanical geneticist?”

  “A lot of hard work. I had some awesome teachers who really encouraged me in high school. Then I got college scholarships and grants. And I had a mentor.” One she might actually be marrying, but she left that part out. And that was a big might. William had never given her this breathless, squishy-kneed feeling when he touched her. She never felt much of anything beyond comfortable companionship.

  But wasn’t that more important than sexual attraction? Although if she really wanted to marry William, would she be spending so much time talking herself into it?

  The butler reappeared with a plate that was all but overflowing with food. Plump sausages and eggs over easy, waffles topped with cream and fresh fruit and flaky croissants with a dish of fresh jam. The scents had her stomach rumbling and her mouth watering. “It looks delicious. Thank you.”

  He nodded and left. Not a very talkative fellow.

  “Aren’t you eating?” she asked Prince Aaron.

  “I already ate, but please, go ahead. You must be famished.”

  Starving. And oddly enough, the prince had managed to put her totally at ease, just as he’d done the night before. He was just so laid-back and casual. So…nice. Unlike most men, he didn’t seem to be put off or intimidated by her intelligence. And when he asked a question, he wasn’t just asking to be polite. He really listened, his eyes never straying from hers while she spoke. She wasn’t used to talking about herself, but he seemed genuinely interested in learning more about her. Unlike the scientists and scholars who were usually too wrapped up in their research to show any interest in learning about who she was as a person.

  It was a nice change of pace.

  The prince’s cell phone rang and he unclipped it from his belt to look at the display. Concern flashed across his face. “I’m sorry. I have to take this,” he said, rising to his feet. “Please excuse me.”

  She watched him walk briskly from the room and realized she was actually sorry to see him go. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d had a conversation with a man who hadn’t revolved in some way around her research, or funding. Not even William engaged in social dialogue very often. It was nice to just talk to someone for a change. Someone who really listened.

  Or maybe spending time with the prince was a bad idea. She’d been here less than a day and already she was nursing a pretty serious crush.

  Four

  “A ny news?” Aaron asked when he answered his brother’s call.

  “We have results back from Father’s heart function test,” Christian told him.

  Aaron’s own heart seemed to seize in his chest. Their father, the king, had been hooked to a portable heart pump four months ago after the last of a series of damaging attacks. The procedure was still in the experimental stages and carried risks, but the doctors were hopeful that it would give his heart a chance to heal from years of heart disease damage.

  It was their last hope.

  Aaron had wanted to accompany his family to England, but his father had insisted he stay behind to greet Miss Montgomery. For the good of the country, he’d said. Knowing he’d been right, Aaron hadn’t argued.

  Duty first, that was their motto.

  “Has there been any improvement?” Aaron asked his brother, not sure if he was ready to hear the answer.

  “He’s gone from twenty percent heart capacity to thirty-five percent.”

  “So it’s working?”

  “Even better than they expected. The doctors are cautiously optimistic.”

  “That’s fantastic!” Aaron felt as though every muscle in his body simultaneously sighed with relief. As a child
he had been labeled the easygoing one. Nothing ever bothered Aaron, his parents liked to brag. He was like Teflon. Trouble hit the surface, then slid off without sticking. But he wasn’t nearly as impervious to stress as everyone liked to believe. He internalized everything, let it eat away at him. Especially lately, with not only their father’s health, but also the diseased crops, and the mysterious, threatening e-mails that had been sporadically showing up in his and his siblings’ in-boxes from a fellow who referred to himself, of all things, as the Gingerbread Man. He had not only harassed them through e-mail, but also managed to breach security and trespass on the castle grounds, slipping in and out like a ghost despite added security.

  There had been times lately when Aaron felt he was days away from a mandatory trip to the rubber room.

  But his father’s health was now one concern he could safely, if only temporarily, put aside.

  “How much longer do they think he’ll be on the pump?” he asked his brother.

  “At least another four months. Although probably longer. They’ll retest him in the spring.”

  Aaron had been hoping sooner. On the pump he was susceptible to blood clots and strokes and in rare cases, life-threatening infections. “How is he doing?”

  “They had to remove the pump to test his heart and there were minor complications when they reinserted it. Something about scar tissue. He’s fine now, but he’s still in recovery. They want to keep him here an extra few days. Probably middle of next week. Just to be safe.”

  As much as Aaron wanted to see his father home, the hospital was the best place for him now. “Is Mother staying with him?”

  “Of course. She hasn’t left his side. Melissa, the girls and I will be returning Friday as planned.”

  The girls being Louisa and Anne, their twin sisters, and Melissa, Chris’s wife of only four months. In fact, it was on their wedding night that the king had the attack that necessitated the immediate intervention of the heart pump. Though it was in no way Chris and Melissa’s fault, they still felt responsible for his sudden downturn.

  “Now that Father is improving, maybe it’s time you and Melissa rescheduled your honeymoon,” Aaron told him.

  “Not until he’s off the pump altogether,” Chris insisted, which didn’t surprise Aaron. Chris had always been the responsible sibling. Of course, as crown prince, slacking off had never been an option. But while some people may have resented having their entire life dictated for them, Chris embraced his position. If he felt restricted by his duties, he never said so.

  Aaron wished he could say the same.

  “Did Miss Montgomery arrive safely?” Chris asked.

  “She did. Although her flight was delayed by weather.”

  “What was your first impression of her?”

  He almost told his brother that she was very cute. And despite what she’d told him, he couldn’t imagine her as ever being difficult. She was so quiet and unassuming. But he didn’t think that was the sort of impression Chris was asking for. “She seems very capable.”

  “Her references all checked out? Her background investigation was clean?”

  Did he honestly think Aaron would have hired her otherwise? But he bit back the snarky comment on the tip of his tongue. Until their father was well, Chris was in charge, and that position deserved the same respect Aaron would have shown the king.

  “Squeaky-clean,” Aaron assured his brother. “And after meeting her, I feel confident she’ll find a cure.”

  “Everyone will be relieved to hear that. I think we should—” There was commotion in the background, then Aaron heard his sister-in-law’s voice, followed by a short, muted conversation, as though his brother had put a hand over the phone.

  “Is everything okay, Chris?”

  “Yes, sorry,” Chris said, coming back on the line. “I have to go. They’re wheeling Father back to his room. I’ll call you later.”

  “Send everyone my love,” Aaron told him, then disconnected, wishing he could be there with his family. But someone needed to stay behind and hold the fort.

  He hooked his phone on his belt and walked back to the dining room. Liv was still there eating her breakfast. She had wiped out everything but half of a croissant, which she was slathering with jam. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a woman polish off such a hearty meal. Especially a woman so slim and fit.

  For a minute he just stood there watching her. She had dressed in jeans and a sweater and wore her hair pulled back into a ponytail again. He couldn’t help grinning when he recalled the way she seized up as he put his hands on her shoulders, and the deep blush in her cheeks. He knew he wasn’t exactly playing fair, and it was wrong to toy with her, but he’d never met a woman who wore her emotions so blatantly on her sleeve. There was little doubt that she was attracted to him.

  She looked up, saw him standing there and smiled. A sweet, genuine smile that encompassed her entire face. She wasn’t what he would consider beautiful or stunning, but she had a wholesome, natural prettiness about her that he found undeniably appealing.

  “Sorry about that,” he told her, walking to the table.

  “S’okay,” she said with a shrug, polishing off the last of her croissant and chasing it down with a swallow of coffee. “I think that was the most delicious breakfast I’ve ever eaten.”

  “I’ll pass your compliments on to the chef.” Instead of sitting down, he rested his arms on the back of his chair. “I’m sorry to say you won’t be meeting my parents until next week.”

  Her smile vanished. “Oh. Is everything all right?”

  “My father’s doctors want to keep him a few days longer. Just in case.”

  “It’s his heart?” she asked, and at his questioning look, added, “When I was offered the position, I looked up your family on the Internet. A ton of stuff came back about your father’s health.”

  He should have figured as much. The king’s health had been big news after he collapsed at Chris’s wedding reception. But other than to say he had a heart “problem,” no specific information had been disclosed about his condition.

  “He has advanced heart disease,” Aaron told her.

  Concern creased her brow. “If you don’t mind my asking, what’s the prognosis?”

  “Actually, he’s in an experimental program and we’re hopeful that he’ll make a full recovery.”

  “He’s getting a transplant?”

  “He has a rare blood type. The odds of finding a donor are astronomical.” He explained the portable heart pump and how it would take over all heart function so the tissue would have time to heal. “He’s very fortunate. Less than a dozen people worldwide are part of the study.”

  “Heart disease is genetic. I’ll bet you and your siblings are very health-conscious.”

  “Probably not as much as we should be, but the queen sees to it that we eat a proper diet. You know how mothers are.” Only after the words were out did he realize that no, she probably didn’t know, because she’d never had a real mother. He felt a slash of guilt for the thoughtless comment. But if it bothered her, she didn’t let it show.

  She dabbed her lips with her napkin, then set it on the table beside her plate. Glancing at the watch on her slender wrist, she said, “I should get down to the lab. I have a lot of unpacking to do.”

  He stepped behind her to pull her chair out, and could swear he saw her tense the slightest bit when his fingers brushed her shoulders. She rose to her feet and edged swiftly out of his reach.

  He suppressed a smile. “You’re sure you don’t need help unpacking?”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  “Well, then, lunch is at one.”

  “Oh, I don’t eat lunch. I’m usually too busy.”

  “All right, then, dinner is at seven sharp. You do eat dinner?”

  She smiled. “On occasion, yes.”

  He returned the smile. “Then I’ll see you at seven.”

  She walked to the door, then stopped for a second, looking one w
ay, then the other, as though she wasn’t sure which direction to take.

  “Left,” he reminded her.

  She turned to him and smiled. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll remind Derek to get you that map.”

  “Thank you.” She stood there another second, and he thought she might say something else, then she shook her head and disappeared from view.

  The woman was a puzzle. Thoughtful and confident one minute, then shy and awkward the next. And he realized, not for the first time, that she was one puzzle he’d like to solve.

  After a long morning in the fields and an afternoon in the largest of their greenhouse facilities, Aaron looked forward to a quiet dinner and an evening spent with their guest. Even though normally he would arrange some sort of physical, recreational activity like squash or tennis or even just a walk in the gardens, he was more interested in just talking to Liv. Learning more about her life, her past. She was the first woman in a long time whom he’d found both attractive and intellectually stimulating. And after a few drinks to loosen her up a bit, who knew where the conversation might lead.

  He changed from his work clothes and stopped by her room on his way downstairs to escort her to the dining room, but she wasn’t there. Expecting her to already be at the table waiting for him, he headed down, but found all of the chairs empty.

  Geoffrey stepped in from the pantry.

  “Have you seen Miss Montgomery?” Aaron asked.

  “As far as I know she’s still in the lab, Your Highness.”

  Aaron looked at his watch. It was already two minutes past seven. Maybe she’d lost track of the time. “Will you wait to serve the first course?”

  Geoffrey gave him a stiff nod. “Of course, Your Highness.”

  A servant of the royal family as long as Aaron could remember, Geoffrey prided himself on keeping them on a strict and efficient schedule. Tardiness was not appreciated or tolerated.

  “I’ll go get her,” Aaron said. He headed through the kitchen, savoring the tantalizing scent of spicy grilled chicken and peppers, and down the stairs to the lab. Through the door window he could see Liv, sitting in front of a laptop computer, typing furiously, papers scattered around her.

 

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