Christmas in His Royal Bed / Rossellini's Revenge Affair. Yvonne Lindsay

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СКАЧАТЬ turning to face her once again, he maintained a neutral expression. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you are. You signed a contract.”

      “Contract be damned.” She started for the door, her demeanor icy.

      He waited for her to pass, then caught her arm as she marched down the empty hallway. “Are you really willing to deprive one of your favorite charities of a quarter of a million dollars?”

      The reminder stopped her in her tracks, and he pressed his advantage. “If you leave, reneging on the agreement, you forfeit the bonus. Stay through the month of December and you will not only be paid the agreed-upon wage, but will also earn a hefty sum to bestow as you see fit.”

      He could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she weighed her options. Leave, and she would be safe from him; he would have no opportunity to try to lure her into his bed. Stay, and she would be all but walking into the lion’s den, but would also end up earning a quarter of a million dollars to fund one of her pet projects. It was a compelling enticement.

      The seconds ticked by while she stood in the middle of the hall, wracked with indecision. Once again, he chose to give her a small nudge in the direction he wished her to go.

      Moving closer, he placed a hand at the small of her back. She stiffened and pulled away just enough to break the contact.

      “Please,” he said diplomatically, “allow me to show you where you’ll be staying if you elect to remain and fulfill your contract. The family will gather in the dining room for dinner at eight o’clock. I’d like you to be there, if you would, to meet everyone. After that, if you still wish to return to the United States…”

      He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I won’t say I’ll let you go without penalty, but I will be willing to discuss the situation further.”

      For a moment, he thought she would continue her retreat. And then the rigid line of her spine relaxed slightly and her shoulders lifted as she inhaled a deep breath.

      Without turning around, she said, “Fine. I’ll stay through dinner.”

      “Excellent. Come along, then,” he replied, careful not to let his satisfaction show as he stepped around her and walked the rest of the way down the hall.

      He led her through the foyer and up the curved staircase, toward the west wing. There were more hallways and a second set of stairs before they reached the suites of rooms reserved for guests.

      The royal family’s quarters were located in the east wing, on the opposite end of the palace. But that was for the best. If his plan to seduce Alandra succeeded, their relationship could be kept almost completely secret, thanks to the relative privacy of the west wing and the fact that she would be the only person in residence there for the next month.

      Reaching her suite, he opened the heavy, carved mahogany door, standing just inside to allow her to enter ahead of him. Briefly, he showed her the sprawling sitting room, with its large-screen plasma television and DVD library. Nicolas hadn’t known her personal tastes, so he’d ordered the room to be stocked with a variety of choices, any of which she could exchange in the family’s entertainment room whenever she liked.

      Glancing thrthat Alandra’sicolas was happy to note that Alandra’s things had already been unpacked and put away. She was carefully observing her surroundings, and if she was offended that the palace staff had handled her belongings, she didn’t say so. She looked pleased with the accommodations, her expressive eyes taking in every detail of the beautifully decorated rooms.

      “I’ll leave you alone now, to rest or take a tour of the grounds, whatever you like. One of the staff can show you to the dining room when you’re ready.”

      Turning on his heel, he left her standing in the middle of the bedroom.

      Alandra watched him go, still seething at his manipulation, and yet not so angry that she failed to notice the handsome, regal picture he made as he exited.

      She supposed she should be flattered that a prince wanted her in his bed. Most women would be, she imagined.

      The problem was that he hadn’t seemed interested in her, in getting to know her or starting a relationship with her. His request when they’d met in Texas was to take her to bed for a night—or perhaps a handful of nights. And because of who he was, he expected her to simply acquiesce.

      Even if she might have been attracted to him otherwise, that fact turned her off entirely. She didn’t want to be some playboy prince’s temporary intimate diversion.

      With a sigh, she began to explore her rooms, checking to see where all her things had been stored. Dresses, blouses and slacks hung in the wardrobe. More casual tops and pants had been folded and stacked in the dresser, along with her underthings. And her toiletries had been lined up on the bathroom counter or tucked into the available drawers. Even the books and folders she’d brought, for work and for leisure, had been neatly stacked on a small desk set before one of the windows overlooking the balcony.

      She hadn’t made up her mind yet about whether she planned to stay, but had to admit that if she did decide to fulfill her bargain with the Prince of Lies, the view alone would make her visit feel less like manipulation and more like a paid vacation.

      Stepping onto the wide stone balcony, she moved to the railing and gazed out at the ocean beyond. Waves rolled to the shore, bringing with them a gentle lulling sound that could soothe even the most restless soul.

      Glancing at her watch, Alandra saw that she still had a couple of hours before she needed to start getting ready for dinner with the royal family. The thought of meeting them caused her stomach to dip dizzily.

      But she would deal with that when she had to. For now, she would call home to let her father and sister know she’d arrived safely, and to maybe get Elena’s advice about her current situation.

      Should she stay or should she go? Should she tell the prince just what he could do with his devious, conniving contract, and walk away from the chance to gift a quarter of a million dollars to a charity that could dearly use the money? Or should she swallow her pride and do what she had to to get through the month?

      Four

      At five minutes to eight that evening, Alandra followed the maze of hallways on the palace’s second floor and found her way to the main staircase. The maid who had come to check up on her earlier had given her general directions to the dining room, and Alandra thought she could find it on her own.

      But she needn’t have worried. As soon as she reached the stairs, she found Nicolas standing at the bottom, waiting for her.

      He was dressed in a dark suit, which made her feel better about her own outfit. She hadn’t known quite what to wear to her first dinner with a royal family, so had opted for a simple blue silk dress.

      “Good evening,” Nicolas said in greeting, watching her intently as she descended the stairs.

      Alandra felt a skittering of awareness as his gaze swept her from head to toe. No doubt about it, this man was dangerous. If she decided to stay, she would have to be very careful not to let those blue eyes and his handsome face lure her in and make her do something she wouldn’t normally do.

      “Good evening,” she replied, pausing at the bottom of the stairs.

      “May СКАЧАТЬ