A Princess for Christmas - Jenny Holiday Page 0,45

of Gabby’s shrieking. Or maybe it was the rush of blood in his ears.

“All of you,” she was saying when he managed to tune back in. She was gesturing toward Dani as if to include her in the extraordinary invitation.

“That’s so kind of you,” Dani said, “but I have a two-week date with my book manuscript. If I don’t get this thing done, I can kiss any hope of getting tenure good-bye.”

“I have a . . . dear friend who is spending the holidays writing his master’s thesis, so I understand,” Marie said.

“Wait.” Leo needed to impose some order on this conversation.

“Oh, but we can FaceTime you!” Gabby said to Dani. “We can show you the big fireplace and the cauldrons of hot chocolate.”

“Hang on,” Leo tried again, but no one heard him. They’d launched into a discussion of the time difference between Eldovia and New York and when they could call Dani for her to get the optimal view of the Christmas festivities.

He stuck his fingers into his mouth and whistled, high and shrill, like he used to do at Islanders games back when his life still included things like Islanders games. That did it. Three pairs of wide eyes turned to him.

“We can’t go to Eldovia for Christmas.”

Right?

“Why not?” Gabby demanded, and before he could answer, she followed that with, “You were just saying we could go to Florida. This is better than Florida. Way better.”

“Yeah, but we can’t just—”

“Leo.” Marie walked over until she was standing right in front of him, and for fuck’s sake, he needed her not to be so close so he could think clearly. “I know this is an impulsive invitation. But I have a feeling that none of us has done anything impulsive for far too long. Christmas in Eldovia is lovely, but I will admit that the last few have been terribly lonely. Since my mother died, things have . . . not been the same. I would truly love to have you and your sister as my guests.”

Oh, that forthright honesty, that vulnerability. It was like a paper cut: minor on the surface of things, but after a beat to absorb it, stealthily sharp and stinging.

“I can’t,” he said automatically, the words a defensive shield against her earnestness. “I’m the super of this building. I can’t be gone for a chunk of time in the middle of the winter. I have to shovel, and—”

“I’ll shovel,” Dani said. “It will be good for me to get a little exercise amid all the hunching over the computer.”

“But—”

“Anything else, I’ll call in the professionals. You’re allowed a vacation, Leo. I’m pretty sure that’s even in your contract, yes?”

And Marie, damn her, kept going. “I’ve had so much fun with you these last few days.” She turned to Gabby, as if to include her in the sentiment, and then back to him. “I just thought . . .”

Oh god, he had no defenses against her. The way she seemed to lose her nerve and trail off sheepishly. Well, he would have given her anything in that moment, opened a vein and bled for her, and all she was asking was that they come for a vacation in a literal palace.

Could they . . . do this?

“. . . you would really enjoy it.” Marie was speaking to Gabby now, and Leo had the sense that that wasn’t how she’d initially meant to finish her sentence. I just thought . . . she’d started out, and she’d been talking to him. He wanted to know what she’d thought.

“There’s skating and hayrides and—”

“A ball!” Gabby exclaimed.

“But not for children, I’m sorry to say. My father is very strict on that front.”

“But I can watch you get ready, maybe? See your dress?”

Marie smiled. “Yes. I would love that. I secretly hate balls—I’m a terrible dancer—so I’d love the company to calm my nerves.”

Dani caught Leo’s eye as the other two kept chattering as if the decision had already been made. Very slowly, her eyebrows lifted, like she was issuing a dare.

And as if they had somehow heard Dani’s wordless challenge, Marie and Gabby fell silent. They both turned to him. Gabby’s face was an almost comical plea. Leo could tell she desperately wanted to burst out with a barrage of words to get him to agree but somehow sensed that was the wrong approach.

And Marie. She smiled. Those fucking dimples.

He sighed. Because apparently he was going to spend Christmas in a palace with a goddamn princess in