The Prince's Christmas Vow. Jennifer Faye

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The Prince's Christmas Vow - Jennifer Faye Mills & Boon Cherish

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want to have to throw you out.” The man turned and walked away.

      Obviously the man hadn’t recognized him with the shadows and the distance. That was all right with Demetrius. Sometimes he got tired of being the prince, of posing for pictures and answering questions. Sometimes he just wanted to be plain old Demetrius. He’d been able to pull that off not so long ago when he was partying and showing up in places most inappropriate for royalty. But those times were over and not to be repeated.

      Zoe laughed. The sound startled him. It’d been so long since he’d seen her happy. In the beginning, their relationship had been an easy and relaxed one. He missed those times. He hadn’t relaxed like that since—

      No. He wasn’t going down memory lane. That was then. This is now.

      Everything had changed over the past year. He refused to be swayed by the way the gold specks in her eyes twinkled when she smiled or how her cheeks filled with color when she was paid a compliment. He was immune to it all.

      Zoe turned her attention back to him. “I guess he didn’t realize who he was threatening to toss out of here.”

      “The man was just doing his job and making sure that no one is injured on his watch.”

      “Then I guess we better hurry.” She turned and snapped a couple more pictures of the room with her phone. “I’ve already been given the dimensions of the rooms as well as the architectural drawings.” She glanced around again. “And now with these photos, I should be able to get started. We should get going before that man comes back.”

      Demetrius stepped in front of her. “Not so fast. We need to establish guidelines for our working arrangement.”

      “That’s easy. When I have some sketches, I’ll contact you.”

      When she once again started around him, he reached out and grasped her wrist. “That won’t work. I want a more hands-on approach.”

      She yanked her arm away and glared at him. “Surely you aren’t proposing to look over my shoulder?”

      “That’s not how I would have worded it, but so be it.”

      Zoe planted her hands on her hips. “I don’t work well under close supervision. I need room to do my research and then I start sketching and playing with colors. It isn’t going to be an overnight project. It will take me time.”

      “I understand that. As long as you understand that you’ll need to keep your design plans a secret from everyone—even your family and friends. The big reveal will be the week of the Royal Christmas Ball. Large contributors will be invited to wow them into donating more funding for more renovations in the neighborhood. The following day, Ms. Russo will be airing another segment on her television show giving viewers before and after shots of the mansion.”

      Zoe nodded her understanding. “Trust me. No one will see my designs. When I have something ready for you to see, we can meet in the village at the caffè house.”

      “That’s impossible. My daily presence in the village, as well as the security detail, would be far too disruptive to businesses.”

      A frown pulled at her beautiful face. “Fine. What do you suggest?”

      Demetrius glanced over, noticing the workman had yet to return, but his gut told him the man would be back soon. They had to make this brief. “I think our best solution is to work at the palace.”

      “The palace?” Zoe’s face noticeably paled.

      “Offices have been set up there for the architect, the PR consultant and others. It will be very handy having all of the key people under one roof.”

      “But I don’t have a car.”

      He hadn’t thought of that, but if that was her only objection, he’d find a solution. “I’ll send my car for you.”

      Her mouth opened, but then she closed it as though she’d run out of protests.

      Good. Another problem solved. “Now that we have that straightened out, let’s get out of here before that guy comes back. I don’t relish the idea of facing him down.”

      The worry lines smoothed on Zoe’s face. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I remember how you’d visit the gym each morning, not to mention your evening run along the beach. I’m guessing you still do both.”

      “I do. When time allows.” Demetrius’s shoulders straightened. Had she just paid him a compliment? “Still, I prefer to keep a low-key presence.”

      “Since when? You used to love to be the playboy and you didn’t care who photographed you.”

      “Things certainly have changed since those days.”

      She glanced away. “I guess they have.”

      Everything had changed, apparently for both of them. And the more time he spent with her, the more he wondered about those dark smudges under her eyes that her makeup didn’t quite cover. Something was keeping her up at night. But what?

       CHAPTER FOUR

      WHAT HAD SHE been thinking?

      Agreeing to work side by side with her ex.

      And at the royal palace of all places.

      The next morning, Zoe muttered to herself as she tried on outfit after outfit. The pile of discarded clothes on her bed was growing. What did one wear to the palace? Business attire? Nah, too stiff. A summer dress? Too casual. Nothing seemed fitting for the occasion.

      And then she recalled that she wasn’t an invited guest. She was the help. She’d probably be ushered in the back entrance and kept out of sight. With that in mind, she dressed as she normally would for a consultation—a short purple skirt, a white blouse and a pair of heels.

      Up until now, she’d carefully avoided Demetrius. In some ways, it seemed like forever since that horrible day at the palace when her whole house of cards had come tumbling down, and in other ways it seemed like just the other day. Demetrius had no idea how much that decision had cost her—she’d sacrificed her heart that night. And her life had never been the same since then.

      Leaving had been the only way she’d known to care for her mother and to protect the prince. With Zoe gone from his life, he could move on. He could find someone else to be his perfect princess—someone whose DNA didn’t have a fifty-fifty chance of inheriting the blueprint for early onset familial Alzheimer’s disease.

      In the beginning, she’d let herself get so caught up in his attention—in the belief that their love could overcome anything. In the end, she’d learned the harsh reality of life.

      Love couldn’t fix everything.

      If it could, her mother wouldn’t be ill. Her mother wouldn’t be fading away right before her very eyes.

      As it was, her mother had just gone to stay with a family friend who had a house by the sea—the community where her mother had grown up. Her mother insisted that she wanted to go.

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