A Princess for Christmas - Jenny Holiday Page 0,101

hopefully she would understand that it wasn’t.

He was tempted to go to the kitchen to clean up Gabby’s mess—literally—but he headed for his room instead and FaceTimed Dani. Surprisingly, his need to talk about his goddamn feelings was more urgent than his need to find his sister.

“What’s up?” Dani said when she picked up.

“Oh, you know, just showing my working-class roots, defiling the princess, the usual.”

She laughed. “Are you getting defiled in return now at least?”

“I am indeed.”

“So why do you look so annoyed?”

Because he didn’t want it to end.

“Anyway, the defiling has to stop.” It did. Things were getting all muddled. He was supposed to be having a fun little fling. Make-believe. Which was aided by the fact that he was in a fucking palace.

He was not supposed to be losing his head. Which was clearly what had happened to him back there in the middle of their snowball fight. Something had flipped inside him. What had been silly and fun had turned inside out, with no warning, and suddenly he’d needed to kiss her. To touch her. He would have Incredible-Hulked anything that stood in the way of that singular goal.

“Why does it have to stop?” Dani asked. “Seems to me it’s a major perk of your little vacation. Or maybe it’s even the feature of your vacation.”

“Because it’s not going to get any easier to stop as time goes on. Tomorrow’s the big ball—and no, I’m still not going,” he said, anticipating her question. “Then it’s Christmas, and then we’re heading home.”

He didn’t want to go home.

Well, he did and he didn’t. He didn’t want to go back to sitting on his ass in a cab for twelve hours a day. But he could certainly do without this “Your sister broke the palace crystal, you plebeian” bullshit.

“But why do you have to stop, period?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you invite her back to New York? In the spring, maybe.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

Because . . . Well, shit. He couldn’t think of a damn thing.

“You’re adults. It sounds like you both know this can’t be a long-term thing, but why not extend the fling if you’re both enjoying yourselves and as long as she’s . . . free? What’s the word? Not betrothed. Ha! What is even your life, Leo?”

“I know. She apparently has to marry ‘strategically,’ whatever that means.”

“What does that mean?”

“I have no idea, but I’m not it.”

“Do you want to be it?”

Did he? Leo always sort of vaguely imagined himself married, but . . . later. After Gabby was grown up and they were less on the edge financially. But anyway, whatever happened, even if he did get married someday, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be to the princess of Eldovia. “No,” he said, in answer to Dani’s question.

“Want to try that again a little more decisively?”

“I am decisive.”

“Okay, you know what? I’m taking back my extend-the-fling advice. You’re in too deep here, and no offense, Leo, but there is no universe in which the heir to the throne of Eldovia is going to entertain being with you in any real way.”

“I know that.” Shit. That had come out way too defensive-sounding. He tried again. “Look. I’m having fun. I’m not used to that. It’s probably the leisure as much as the fling. It’s been so long since I’ve—” Shit. He suddenly felt like his voice was about to crack.

“I know,” Dani said softly. “You deserve some fun. Just don’t get yourself hurt in the process, okay?”

They hung up, and goddamn it, the seed had been planted. He couldn’t stop thinking about Dani’s idea that he invite Marie back to New York. She might not even have to make a special trip if she was taking the UN ambassador gig. He still had that fifteen grand. He could put a chunk of it aside so he could afford to take a week off. If she came when Gabby was in school, they could get up to all sorts of fun during the day. Sexy fun, yes, but also, New York in the springtime could be great. They could rent a boat in Central Park, go to the cherry blossom festival in Brooklyn. And Dani could take them out to her parents’ place on Long Island.

People did this, right? It wasn’t that different from what he and Giada had had. There was just more distance between Marie and him, both geographic and social, than there had been between Giada and him. But a