A Princess for Christmas - Jenny Holiday Page 0,24

lifted her chin and answered his earlier question. “Yes. I will dismiss my associates.”

He grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

What followed was an entirely predictable argument she could have had in her sleep.

“It’s merely lunch,” she said when they—even the usually silent Torkel didn’t like the idea of her going off without them—began to object. “It’s no different from walking down the hill to eat at Angela’s.” Which was something she hadn’t done in ages, come to think of it.

“Begging your pardon, Your Royal Highness, but it’s not like that at all,” Mr. Benz said. “You can’t expect the freedom you have at home to be available to you here.”

“But no one knows me here,” she countered. “Most people here have never even heard of Eldovia.”

“It’s not ‘most people’ I’m worried about,” Mr. Benz said, and he and Torkel swung their attention to Leo, who was watching the face-off from a few feet away.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. If Mr. Ricci wanted to kidnap me or murder me and throw my body in the river, don’t you think he would have done so in the middle of the night last night?” She turned to Leo and called to him, “Are you planning to kidnap me or murder me and throw my body in the river?”

He smirked. “Well, now that you mention it, I could do with some ransom money.”

That set Mr. Benz off again.

All right. Enough. She shouldn’t have allowed herself to get drawn into arguing, as if she were a teenager begging for a curfew extension. She raised a hand to halt Mr. Benz’s monologue and notched her chin a little higher. “Gentlemen. Given that my schedule is clear for the rest of the day, I will be having lunch with Mr. Ricci. He will escort me back to the hotel, and I will see you there later. Good afternoon.”

She turned and hitched her head slightly to Leo to signal that they should start walking. He was trying—though not very hard—to suppress a grin.

He waited until they were a little ways down the block to say, “I didn’t want to mess up your dramatic exit, but the car is actually in the other direction.”

She laughed. Because that was funny, but also because she was free. For just a little bit, but that wasn’t nothing. It was a sunny winter day in New York City, and she was going to have lunch with a grumpy-nice man. How normal. How unremarkable. How wonderful.

“Are we going in the right direction for the sandwich place?” she asked. “Do we have time to walk there? I’m sure they’re standing there watching me, and I’d really rather preserve my triumphant exit.”

Leo chuckled. “We’re going the right way, but you’re not dressed warmly enough. It’s a good four blocks.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He took off his hat, which was a black, knit toque with Islanders embroidered on it in white.

“No, no, I can’t take your hat. I assure you—”

He jammed it on her head.

“I’m from the Alps!” She tried one more protest. “I’m hearty.”

“I’m from the Bronx,” he countered. “I’m heartier.”

She had no argument for that. He was definitely . . . heartier than she was. So when he held out his arm and said, “Your pastrami on rye awaits, Your Honorable Ladyness,” all she could do was take it.

“So what’s the verdict?”

He should probably have let her take more than a bite before he started pressing her. Or at least given her a chance to properly chew and swallow her first bite. But Leo found himself wanting the princess to approve of his deli. As much as he hated to admit it, he’d been thrown for a loop to find her on the verge of tears outside that last shop. He’d wanted to cheer her up.

It was worth remembering, though, that cheering up princesses wasn’t in his job description. They would finish up here, and he would take her back to the hotel and head up to Gabby’s play.

When she’d conquered her bite, Marie set the sandwich down and looked at it skeptically. “It’s very good, but it’s so big. You Americans always put so much meat on everything.”

So big. So much meat. He chuckled. He couldn’t help it. As much as he’d had to grow up in recent years, he still had an inner thirteen-year-old.

“What is amusing?”

Leo shook his head. “You are.” Marie was such a strange mix of competent and innocent. Smart and oblivious. Some of it was probably due to the fact that English wasn’t her first