A Princess By Christmas. Jennifer Faye
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу A Princess By Christmas - Jennifer Faye страница 7
Lost in his thoughts, Alex yanked open the front door. His hand grasped the brass handle on the glass storm door and pushed. At that moment, he saw Reese off to the side. The door bumped into the stool with her on it. The contraption teetered to the side. Reese jumped off just in time.
“Are you okay?” Alex rushed to her side.
“I’m fine.” But she didn’t look happy to see him—not that he could blame her.
“I didn’t expect to find someone standing in front of the door.”
“It’s my fault, I should have moved over to the side a little more, but I was having problems stringing the lights right above the door.”
He glanced at them. “They look all right to me.”
“Look at them from down here.” She led the way into the yard, oblivious of the deepening layer of snow.
Alex followed her. When he turned back, he found she’d transformed the porch into a beautiful winter scene. There was garland lining the front of the porch. Small artificial pine trees strung with white lights stood guard on either side of the front door. And then there were strands of white twinkle lights the whole way around the porch, giving it a soft glow.
As Reese stood there puzzling over how to finish stringing the lights, her full lips pursed together. If he were impulsive—like his twin—he might consider stealing a kiss just to see if her lips were as sweet as they looked.
Alex turned to look out over the quiet street. The thought of kissing her still pulled at his thoughts. Besides probably earning him a slap for his effort, he knew kissing her was the sort of spontaneity that had gotten his brother in a world of trouble. Alex still didn’t understand how the crown prince could elope with a woman he had only known for a handful of weeks. Frustration churned in Alex’s gut. No one would want an impulsive ruler, including Alex himself. That’s why the elopement had to be dealt with immediately and quietly without the encroachment of the press.
Alex glanced in Reese’s direction to find her big brown eyes studying him. Her gaze was intense and put him off center because it was as if she could see through him—see that he was a fake. Or maybe it was his guilt from not introducing himself properly as the prince of the Mirraccino Islands that had him uneasy.
But it had to be this way. Keeping his identity hush-hush was of the utmost importance. He didn’t know this woman any better than a person on the street. There was no reason to take her into his confidence and expect her to keep it. To her he was nothing more than a paying customer—end of story.
Her brow crinkled. “Is something wrong?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Okay. I just thought with you standing out here in the cold instead of inside in the warmth that you must need something important.”
This was his opening. He didn’t have a lot of practice at apologies and for some reason he really wanted to get this right.
“There’s something I have to say.” When he had her full attention, he continued. “I am sorry about our first meeting. I was way out of line.”
There was a flicker of something in her eyes, but in a blink, it was gone. “Apology accepted. But it wasn’t all your fault. You were expecting a room to be waiting for you. No one could blame you for being upset.”
“But then to kick you out of your own bed—”
“Don’t worry. I don’t sleep much anyway.”
Before he could inquire about her last statement, she headed back to the porch to adjust the strand of lights on the banister.
“What do you think?” Reese returned to his side.
He didn’t really notice a difference. “Looks much better.”
“I don’t know.” She crossed her arms and studied the lights strung from one end of the porch to the other. “It’s not perfect, but I guess it’ll have to do.”
“Do you always decorate so elaborately?”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t bother, but each home along Cobblestone Way is expected to light up their homes for the holidays.”
Reese climbed on the unstable stepstool. When she swayed slightly, Alex rushed to her side.
“Let me do that for you.” He held out his hands for the string of lights.
“Thanks, but I’ve got it. I know exactly how they go.”
Instinctively he placed a hand on her hip to steady her while with his other hand he gripped the stool. The heat of her body seeped through her jeans and into his hand, sending a strange sensation pulsating up his arm.
She glanced down at him and their gazes caught for a second more than was necessary. Then she turned away and attempted to string the lights on three little hooks above the door.
“There. That should do.” With his hand aiding her, she climbed down the few steps. “Would you mind plugging them in?” She pointed to the outlet on the other side of the porch.
He was glad to help, even if it was just something small. And the fact that this independent woman let him do anything at all must mean that he was making a little bit of progress with her. He liked that thought—not that he was going to let this budding friendship go too far. But it would be nice to have someone around with whom he could strike up a friendly conversation. He quickly found the end of the extension cord and plugged in the additional string of lights.
He turned around to find that she’d returned to the front lawn to inspect her own handiwork. Deciding that she had the right idea, he did the same. He glanced up at the house, finding it looked just as good as before. “You did a great job.”
“It’s no big deal. But it’s nice to know that someone enjoys my efforts.”
“Do you need help with anything else?”
“Actually, I do.”
Her answer surprised him. “Tell me what you need.”
“After dinner, I need to go get a Christmas tree.”
She was going to chop down a tree? She might have the determination, but he wasn’t so sure that she had the physical strength. He wondered whom she would turn to if he wasn’t here. The thought of her leaning on another man didn’t sit well with him.
Ignoring the bothersome thought, he followed her back to the porch and helped collect her supplies. “I must admit this will be a first for me.”
“Where exactly are you from?”
He didn’t want to lie to her, but he knew that he couldn’t be totally honest. With his accent there was no way he could pass for an American. There had to be a way around this tricky topic.
He decided to turn things around. “Where do you think I’m from?”
“I don’t know.” She tilted her head to the side and eyed him. “Let me