The Queen's Impossible Boss (The Christmas Princess Swap, Book 2)

by Natalie Anderson

  He didn’t reply.

  ‘Where are we going?’ She tried again once they were both seated and belted and he’d already turned on the ignition.

  ‘The coast.’ He put the car in gear. ‘But we’re making a couple of stops along the way, okay?’

  ‘You’re the boss.’

  He stiffened and she smothered her smile. Yes, he wasn’t as unaffected as he liked to make out.

  Alvaro wasn’t slow in getting them out of town. Jade stared resolutely ahead, defying her inner desire to simply stare at him. In the black turtleneck jumper and dark blue jeans he looked all moody muscle and appallingly mesmerising.

  Companionship for Christmas. That was all he was offering. Not kisses.

  That arrogance of his annoyed her intensely, but as he drove she slowly relaxed and a bubble of pleasure broadened inside. She was glad to get out of town and see something—anything—new. The changing landscape was the perfect distraction.

  ‘We’re heading to New Haven,’ he suddenly said in a clipped voice. ‘We’ll stay there the night. We need to visit someone tomorrow morning and in the afternoon we’ll head to my place.’

  Her curiosity roared. ‘Who’s the friend?’

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel. ‘Ellen.’

  Jade remembered, she was the one whose photo he had, the one he’d said saved him. She glanced at the tension in his hands. ‘You grew up in New Haven?’

  He shook his head. ‘That’s where she lives now. And she’s still working Christmas, she takes in all the waifs and strays she encounters, so she’s providing lunch for a random bunch of people.’

  She picked up on the frustration. ‘You don’t approve?’

  ‘Of course, I do.’ He sighed. ‘But she does too much. She’s older now and she doesn’t have to...’

  ‘How many people come to her lunch?’

  ‘Half a dozen maybe? I never know the exact numbers. She cooks up a storm and serves the leftovers to the ones who drop in for days after.’

  ‘She sounds amazing.’ Jade smiled. ‘People want to be around her?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he muttered. ‘I guess they do.’ He suddenly turned off the main road and wove in and around a few streets before pulling into a car park.

  Jade stared out of the window. He’d stopped in the centre of a coastal village at the town green. It was festooned with gorgeous fairy lights and a small Christmas market with green and red bunting on the very pretty stalls. It looked delightful.

  ‘Are we there already?’ She followed his lead and got out of the car.

  ‘No, but I feel like you need food,’ he said shortly.

  She laughed. ‘I feel like you’re projecting.’

  ‘Probably.’ He rubbed his hand across his stomach as he leaned to the side to stretch out the kinks in his back. ‘Come on, they have the best pastries here.’

  Jade focused on the small market ahead, refusing to wish it were her hand skimming over the washboard abs she knew were beneath the soft wool. Alvaro headed like a sweet-seeking missile, straight towards one stall, and she heard him order coffee and pastries.

  ‘You’ve got to try one.’ He held out the cardboard tray to her two minutes later.

  She picked up one of the spheres of fried dough; it was drenched in honey and sprinkles. Sticky, sweet, so hot and one was simply never going to be enough.

  He grinned as he watched her chew. ‘Good, am I right?’

  ‘So much better than good.’ She sighed.

  As they walked around the market, the warmth inside Jade wasn’t from the small sweet pastries or the smell of Christmas spices, it was the company, the easing of the tension between them. Alvaro was clearly familiar with the market and the goods available—or at least the edible ones.

  ‘You call in here every year?’ she asked when he made a beeline for another stall—fudge this time, in an assortment of mouth-watering flavours.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  She liked that he had his own little Christmas tradition, even if he insisted on working the actual day. They took their time weaving along the stalls, admiring the decorations and hand-crafted garments for sale. She lost him briefly, when she paused by one trestle table, taken by an incredible display of miniature treats—gingerbread houses, Bundts and Christmas puddings.

  ‘Are they edible?’ she asked the woman behind the stall in amazement. They were so tiny.

  ‘Of course.’ She smiled. ‘You’re welcome to try a sample.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Jade beamed. Back home she’d never be allowed to eat market food without it being tested first. She’d only ever been offered pre-selected, triple-checked tastes. Here she could try anything she wanted to. And she did.

  ‘They’re so perfect, they must have taken so long to make,’ Jade marvelled.

  Those very particular edible presentations on tour were always fine and fancy, but the intricate piping on these tiny structures utterly amazed her.

  ‘Could we take some of the houses to Ellen?’ She turned to Alvaro when he walked back to where she’d lingered. ‘For her Christmas dinner?’

  ‘Sure, that’d be nice.’

  The stallholder delightedly boxed up a dozen. Ten minutes later Alvaro carefully stowed them in the trunk of the car and then slammed it shut.

  ‘Which did you prefer, by the way?’ he turned to her to ask. ‘The sweet dough balls or the fudge?’

  ‘They were both delicious,’ Jade answered.

  Laughter lit his eyes and he shook his head. ‘No. You can have only one. You have to choose.’

  ‘Why do I have to choose?’ She smiled. ‘They were both amazing.’

  His eyebrows lifted. ‘Why is it so hard to pick a favourite? You must have an opinion on them.’

  ‘Well, I don’t.’ She shrugged.

  ‘Don’t or won’t?’ The gleam in his eye was sharper now, not as amused. ‘You’re allowed your own opinion, Jade.’

  ‘I am.’ She nodded. ‘But I’m also aware that I can’t share it much.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Look,’ she huffed. ‘I know this might sound arrogant, but I have influence. And with that comes responsibility. I can’t be seen to endorse one product over another. So I don’t choose. I never choose.’

  Alvaro theatrically glanced up and then down the path. ‘Jade, I’m not sure if you’ve realised, but we’re currently alone. No one is paying any attention to us. There are no cameras, and no one around for you to influence, other than me. And I won’t be overly swayed by your opinion, I’m confident in my own tastes and desires.’

  Her lips twisted. ‘I’m aware of that.’

  Truthfully, she was still getting used to the fact that there were no cameras on her when she went out. It wasn’t normal not to have them. It had been drilled into her all her life—that any moment could and probably would be caught on camera. Remembering that horrible fact stopped her from doing things she shouldn’t. Like challenging him to kiss her right now.

  ‘You truly won’t say which you prefer?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s how I’ve been trained.’

  His eyebrows shot up. ‘So do you say you just like everything?’

  ‘I can find something positive in everything,’ she replied.

  ‘Wow. So even if you hate something, you’ll find something about it to bestow your approval on?’

  She glared at him as her annoyance grew. ‘You make it sound as if that’s a bad thing.’

  ‘It is. It’s dishonest.’

  ‘No, it’s not. It’s just...judicious. It’s being kind.’

  ‘Kind?’ he scoffed. ‘It’s cowardly. You have to be able to admit when you don’t like something. You have to have that freedom. That choice. Otherwise you just end up...bland. And in the end no one can trust a word that emerges from your mouth.’

  S
he was suddenly hurt. ‘I don’t lie.’

  He straightened up from the car and stepped closer. ‘But you don’t fully express yourself either.’

  Horrible, hot resentment built within her at his judgment. Because she had with him. She had been so honest, so vulnerable, so exposed. And he knew it.

  ‘I dare you to say what you like.’ He stood right in front of her, his whisky-amber eyes hot and hard as if he were even angrier than she. Impossible.

  ‘Tell me what you like,’ he said. ‘Tell me one thing you absolutely love and can’t get enough of. That you’d do every day if you could.’

  There was fire in her hurt and fury now. But she wasn’t being provoked into saying something she knew he wanted her to admit.

  ‘What do you want, Jade?’ he pushed. ‘Tell me one thing you really want.’ Passion now burned in his eyes as well. ‘You’re allowed to say. You don’t need my or anyone else’s permission. Why is it so hard? You did with me once already.’

  ‘That was different,’ she muttered through clenched teeth.

  ‘How?’

  ‘Because it was once. Once. One night.’ She didn’t want to say it again. She didn’t want to let him have that victory. But then it wouldn’t be only his win, would it? It would be hers too.

  So she stepped closer, unable to ignore the craving any more. ‘I want you to be quiet,’ she whispered furiously. ‘I want you to stop goading me and start doing something else instead.’

  ‘Something else?’ He towered over her but still didn’t touch her.

  ‘You know already,’ she growled at him. ‘You want it too. You’re as dishonest about that as I am. You didn’t come back to kiss me? That was such a lie, Alvaro.’

  ‘But you agreed it wouldn’t be wise.’

  ‘And it wouldn’t.’ She nodded, never more sure of that than she was right now.

  This entire trip wasn’t wise. Because she was so tempted by him and it was utterly impossible. Getting close to him again? Exploring that magic with him again?

  She couldn’t. Because it hadn’t been ‘just sex’ for her. He’d made her want so much more.

  ‘I’m supposed to be considering marriage to another man,’ she said, reminding herself more than telling him.

  Never mind that it was no longer the truth, it was a viable reason to make herself step back.

  But the look in Alvaro’s eyes flared and he stepped forward. ‘Was that ever a serious consideration? And now? After...’ He frowned as she coolly met his gaze. ‘Wow. Is it seriously still on the cards for you?’

  She suppressed a shiver and stood her ground. If there was one way to put their chemistry on ice, this was it.

  ‘I haven’t ruled it out. But I need to see what he wants,’ she fudged, regretting bringing the subject up.

  ‘What he wants? So if he wanted to proceed, you would?’

  ‘It’s my duty—’

  She broke off as he made a sound in the back of his throat.

  ‘It is my duty,’ she repeated, ‘to do what is best for my country. Nothing and no one can come before my duty to the Crown.’

  ‘You really believe that?’ he softly, lethally questioned, leaning far, far too close. ‘You really think that what you want comes second? That you have to sacrifice your life because of some duty you think you owe just because of some stupid birth order?’

  She glared up at him, because she did believe exactly that.

  ‘You’re using it to hide,’ he savaged her. ‘Because you’re too scared to stand up for yourself and for what you really want.’ He drew in a jagged breath. ‘I get that your father was strict, but you don’t have to do as he says any more. You don’t have to do as anyone says. You can be your own woman.’

  ‘I’m the Queen of Monrova, Alvaro,’ she said bloodlessly. ‘I can never be my own woman.’

  He pulled a torn piece of paper from his back pocket and shoved it into her hands. Jade stared at him a few seconds longer before dropping her gaze to unfold what he’d wanted to show her. It was torn from a newspaper—a spread of photos that she barely glanced at before holding it back out to him. ‘I’ve already seen photos of Juno and Leonardo.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘The other day.’ She’d seen those ones from the Winter Ball where they’d been dancing.

  ‘Before we were together?’ Alvaro’s gaze drilled into her.

  She hesitated and looked down again, smoothing out the paper he’d not taken back. ‘It was after I’d asked you.’

  ‘But did this impact on that decision?’ he probed.

  She shook her head. ‘I did what I wanted.’

  But now she stilled as she scanned the other pictures of Juno and Leonardo in this paper. Her sister looked happy. They were on a walkabout and Juno was bent, talking to a small child. She looked more relaxed than Jade ever felt on such an engagement and the obvious chemistry between them had columnists frothing at the mouth. And it certainly wasn’t based on nothing. A wave of tenderness swept through Jade.

  ‘Does he know?’ Alvaro asked.

  Jade couldn’t bear to think about that. The press and the rest of the world thought that was her—Jade—with Leonardo. That this was the beginning of a great romance and the world was now anticipating a royal wedding to end all royal weddings. It would be an absolute fairy tale. It certainly would be fiction. How could they possibly continue with this when she returned to Monrova and they switched back? They wouldn’t, of course.

  ‘He knows she’s Juno, right?’ he asked again.

  Surely Leonardo did. Jade trusted Juno; she was sure this would work out. Juno had been vehemently anti Jade’s possible marriage of convenience with Leonardo. There were obviously feelings there that Jade hadn’t been aware of. Maybe Juno hadn’t been fully aware of them either.

  But Jade could feel Alvaro watching her now. ‘Stop trying to analyse me.’

  ‘I’m trying to figure out what you’re feeling.’

  ‘What I’m feeling doesn’t matter.’ That wasn’t relevant to her role as Queen.

  ‘It matters to me.’

  The soft anger with which he said that broke something inside her apart. ‘Stop feeling sorry for me.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I?’ That anger in his voice built. ‘I thought you just said you were still considering marrying this guy. Aren’t you hurt by this?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she argued. ‘I’m many things, but I’m not hurt.’

  ‘Then tell me the many things. Tell me even one of them.’

  ‘I want Juno to be happy,’ she snapped. ‘She deserves to be happy.’ And she hoped more than anything that she was reading Leonardo’s expression right.

  Alvaro nodded. ‘And you don’t deserve that?’

  ‘It doesn’t need to be a comparison all the time.’ Jade shook her head. ‘Just because we’re twins.’ She hated that and knew Juno did too. ‘It’s okay for me to consider her without thinking of myself the next second. I want her to be happy.’

  ‘Okay.’ Alvaro paused. ‘But I’m interested how this impacts on you. On what you want for yourself.’

  She closed her eyes briefly. ‘I want to do what’s best and what’s right for Monrova.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ he kept pushing her. ‘As if who you marry is going to matter?’

  ‘It’s not going to matter,’ she exploded at him. ‘Because I’m not marrying anyone.’

  ‘Finally.’ His stance eased and his anger ebbed. ‘You’ve finally seen the light. Now let’s get going before it gets too dark and cold.’

  But Jade’s anger hadn’t fallen—suddenly she was furious with him. For a few days there she’d been fine about abandoning any arranged marriage plan. But now? Now it felt as if he’d left her with nothing. He’d made her face how alone she really was. And how was she ever to meet someone? Who would ever want to join he
r in the extraordinarily proscribed life she led? Not him, that was for sure.

  A silent hour’s drive later Alvaro pulled up outside a hotel. The receptionist’s eyes widened when they walked in and Jade knew the woman had recognised her—hopefully as Juno, not Jade, so she remained quiet when Alvaro signed them both in.

  ‘She recognised you,’ Alvaro murmured as he declined a porter and carried their bags himself. ‘Which is why this is your room here, while mine’s a few along.’ He paused at the door and passed her bag to her.

  ‘That’s the only reason we have separate rooms? For the look of it?’ she asked as lightly as she could through gritted teeth. ‘I thought you didn’t bring me along to kiss me.’

  His gaze intensified, drilling through her. ‘I think we ought to eat out. I’ll knock on your door in half an hour.’

  Food? Again?

  She half groaned, half laughed, and let herself into her room. Maybe eating was the perfect displacement activity for them both.

  She tossed Juno’s carry-all onto the bed and unzipped it to find a fresh sweater to wear. But given she’d packed in a hurry, she ended up tipping the entire jumbled contents onto the bed. As she went to lift the empty bag away, she felt a hard object in the interior pocket. She frowned, not remembering what it was she’d put in there. She unzipped it and paused when she saw the sheaf of papers. She hadn’t put this in there.

  Her blood chilled as she realised these documents must be Juno’s. Jade had thought the bag was empty. But curiosity had her in its claws, because she’d caught a glimpse of photos in there, and she’d recognised the name on the top corner of one of the papers.

  Alice Monroe.

  Jade pulled out the pile before she could guilt herself into stopping. Because this was personal and private and she shouldn’t...but why shouldn’t she, when this was her mother, and her sister?

  It was the photograph that consumed her first. Juno must’ve been about fifteen and she was standing. The defiant tilt to her mouth contrasted sharply with the sadness dulling her eyes. Jade recognised strain and pain and a world of things she shouldn’t have had to face. Not alone. Not cast out.