A Princess for Christmas - Jenny Holiday Page 0,116
confident—bordering on entitled, almost. Focused.
Focused on her. So intensely. No one could mistake that look. That stride. He was staking a claim. He was coming for her.
Earlier, she’d been focused on not making a scene. But she hadn’t known that this kind of scene was an option. Her entire body tingled as he jumped down the last few steps, landed like a panther, and began crossing the floor, oblivious to the lights shining on them and to the crowd watching in silent astonishment.
She half expected him to ravish her right there, but he merely swept her into his arms. They slid into the steps as if the whole thing had been choreographed.
“What I’m trying to do here,” Leo said immediately, speaking low so only Marie could hear, “is the royal version of throwing you over my shoulder and carting you away so everyone knows you’re mine.”
Yes, that’s exactly what it had looked like. The sensations she’d had before, that she was about to float away, that she couldn’t get a breath in, started reversing themselves as they twirled, picking up speed. She felt strong and sure and calm. She knew these steps. She knew this man. “I love you!” she blurted. “I don’t want you to go home. Or if you’re going home, I want to go with you.”
Leo grinned. “I love you, too, Princess.”
“I was just on my way to tell my father that I’m not going to marry Max.”
The grin grew self-satisfied. “I think by now that point has probably been made. But just in case . . .” He pulled her against him abruptly, ending the waltz, breaking the frame that Monsieur Lavoie had drilled into them. His arms banded around her and his lips came down on hers, brushing a light kiss against them. He kept their bodies moving in a slow dance, like in the woods. She smiled against his lips as they swayed.
She could feel everyone’s attention on them. The silence in the ballroom gradually gave way to whispers, and then cheers—yes, cheers; how remarkable! She pulled her lips from his. He grunted like he wasn’t happy about that.
“Are we dancing like no one is watching?” she asked.
He laughed. “I suppose we are.”
“My father might disown me. But I’m prepared for that.” She was. She had been since Max’s big wake-up speech. She’d been prepared to walk away from all this without knowing if she would be able to build anything with Leo. But knowing she did have Leo made her big declaration of independence even sweeter. It made her braver.
He looked over her shoulder. “If we all sit down and talk about this like adults—”
“Your Majesty! Your Royal Highness!”
She turned. Whoever had spoken was extremely upset. It was . . . “Frau Lehman?” The housekeeper was not dressed for the ball, and the drama with which she’d burst in suggested something was terribly wrong.
Frau Lehman hurried over to them, arriving at the same time Marie’s father and Mr. Benz did.
The housekeeper looked positively horrified. Marie took the older woman’s hand, wanting to offer comfort. “What’s happened?”
“It’s Miss Gabriella. She’s missing.”
“No, she’s not. She’s in the library,” Leo said. He turned around to confirm with Mr. Benz. “Right?”
They’d discussed a plan for Mr. Benz to make sure Gabby was comfortable and to convey a message that Leo—and, he had hoped, Marie—would join her later for a private Christmas Eve celebration. He’d even ordered up some of her butterscotch s’mores cocoa.
“Indeed. I left her there an hour ago.”
“Yes,” said Frau Lehman, “and you told me to join her. But when I arrived no more than ten minutes later, she was gone.” Frau Lehman’s voice was rising, bordering on hysterical.
Just his fucking luck. Gabby had wanted to come to the ball so desperately, and look, here she was making a big splash with her absence. “Then she’s in her room.”
“She’s not!” Frau Lehman cried. “She’s not anywhere! I’ve had everyone who’s not in here looking for her. We’ve covered the whole palace. I’ve got Thomas leading a group of men in searching the grounds now. But it’s snowing so heavily, and it’s so cold!”
Leo was starting to get scared, but he ordered himself to be calm. Children didn’t just disappear into thin air at royal palaces. That only happened in fairy tales.
But—shit. Shouldn’t waltzing with princesses at Christmas balls also be something that only happened in fairy tales?
“She wouldn’t have gone outside in this weather, would she?” Marie asked. “There’s nowhere she . . .”