The Prince's Christmas Wager Read online

  Copyright © 2018, Caroline Lee

  [email protected]

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  First edition: 2018

  This work is made available in e-book format by Amazon Kindle at www.amazon.com

  Printing/manufacturing information for this book may be found on the last page

  Cover: EDHGraphics

  This Christmas, the one gift she doesn't want is Prince Charming!

  His Highness, Prince Marc Enzio of Velarno, is good at only one thing: being charming. He's looking forward to practicing his art this holiday season as he visits his cousins in the small island country of Aegiria. Enzio is the youngest of five and has a reputation as a playboy flirt...useless for any actual work. But with those perfect smiles and suave manners, he could charm any lady--and has!

  Until he meets Dr. Nova Willetts, a most unusual American.

  Nova is the Aegirian Royal Archivist, tasked with collecting oral histories of the small nation's oldest citizens in preparation for the upcoming Christmas celebrations, and doesn't have any time for charmers. Besides, a cheating ex has made her permanently swear off all flirtatious men, so meeting Enzio has her warning bells ringing.

  But as they work together to track down a particularly romantic Christmas legend, Nova realizes this Prince is Charming...just not the way he's trying to be. And Enzio is falling fast for the standoffish doctor who looks at him with yearning when she thinks no one's watching.

  ...Which means it was probably a bad idea to accept that wager to make her his by Christmas, wasn't it?

  (This sweet Christmas story is a bridge between The Royal Wedding series and The Step-Royals series.)

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  EPILOGUE

  Other works by Caroline Lee

  River’s End Ranch:

  Check out Caroline’s bestselling historical romances:

  Sign up for Caroline’s Newsletter to receive exclusive content and freebies, as well as first dibs on her books! Or if newsletters aren’t your thing, follow her on

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  YOU’RE INVITED TO THE ROYAL WEDDING!

  The tiny island nation of Aegiria may be Europe's longest-reigning monarchy, but this summer is going to deliver enough excitement to rock their royal world! Six princes are matched with six entirely unsuitable princesses as they work together to discover who's trying to sabotage The Royal Wedding.

  The Royal Wedding books:

  THE BODYGUARD’S PRINCE, by Caroline Lee

  THE ROCK STAR’S PRINCE, by Merry Farmer

  THE STEPSISTER’S PRINCE, by Caroline Lee

  THE PILOT’S PRINCE, by Merry Farmer

  THE INTROVERT’S PRINCE, by Caroline Lee

  THE JOURNALIST’S PRINCE, by Merry Farmer

  THE PRINCE’S CHRISTMAS WAGER, by Caroline Lee

  The Prince’s Christmas Wager

  The Royal Wedding

  Book Seven

  Dedication:

  For Joleen, who sat me down with wine and cheese and a cozy blanket, and introduced me to the feel-good wonders which are Hallmark Christmas movies! I’ll be forever grateful.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Two. No, wait…” His Highness, Prince Marc Enzio Frederic Carlo Jaime Kendran of Velarno, smiled as he remembered a particularly enlightening summer trip as a young man. “Three.” His nod was definite. “I’ve dated three princesses of royal blood.”

  Strolling beside him through the wide corridors of his cousin’s palace, Naut Hayes whistled in appreciation. “Is ‘dating’ a euphemism, in this case?”

  They passed one of the large picture windows overlooking the distant Solrig Bay, and Enzio stopped to appreciate the view. Without looking at his step-cousin, he smirked a little smugly. “A gentlemen never kisses and tells.”

  Naut joined him at the window, his hands in the pockets of his tailored suit. Since their first meeting, Enzio had felt most comfortable with this particular step-cousin. Now that Viggo was married and settling into fatherhood, Enzio didn’t have anyone else to brag about their exploits with. No one else seemed to understand.

  Enzio’s queen mother was the first cousin of Her Majesty Queen Viktoria of Aegiria, and the two old dames were still close. Enzio and his sisters had grown up visiting this little island nation, and he’d become close with Viktoria’s six sons. Of them, Viggo—one of the two youngest—had been most like Enzio when it came to outlook on life: Fine wine, good food, and beautiful women.

  But Aegiria had been shocked this summer when the queen remarried; her science adviser, the American Dr. William Hayes, was a bumbling, well-meaning chap who loved Viktoria to distraction. And despite the drama surrounding the wedding—someone had done their best to stop it from ever happening, complete with attempts on Dr. Hayes’ life—the whole nation had rejoiced with the royal family.

  Enzio had escorted two of his sisters to the wedding, and had been flabbergasted to discover Viggo—his partner in crime, the one man he could always rely on to be ready to check out the latest night clubs or throw a wild debauch—had married. And was in love. And had a son.

  The whole thing would’ve been quite too much to bear, had it not been for the man now standing beside Enzio. Dr. Hayes had three sons and a daughter who’d accompanied him to Aegiria, and as the youngest, Naut had all the makings of being a fine degenerate.

  Really, he was the only reason Enzio bothered to visit anymore. Well, that, and the fact Enzio’s happiest childhood memories had occurred here in this palace.

  Naut cleared his throat. “So, with a sample size of only three, are you able to really compare? I mean, maybe princesses aren’t any more interesting than regular women, is my point.”

  “Interesting hypothesis.” Enzio hummed. “And yes, my princess sample size is limited, but in my defense, it’s much harder to convince a princess to let loose and have a good time. You have to wait for them to do the seducing, because they don’t go partying at nightclubs.”

  Naut slanted a look his way. “Really? You’ve got four sisters, and none of them party?”

  “None of them,” Enzio said promptly.

  His step-cousin made a thoughtful noise and leaned closer to the window, looking down into the courtyard. “So they’re hard to get to. That must make the eventual prize that much sweeter.”

  Marc Enzio frowned, not sure how he felt about Naut “getting to” any of his sisters. Part of him wanted to hit his friend for daring to defame the princesses…though the rest of him realized he’d be the world’s biggest hypocrite if he did so. He knew the chase—the pursuit—was the real joy of any relationship. Surely some of the women, royal or not, he himself had pursued had brothers who’d wanted to hit him?

  It was times like these, Enzio felt, that self-reflection was a real pain in the butt.

  Time to change the subject.

  “Any prize you work towards is sweet!” He smiled at his step-cousin. “You should know that.”

  “And you’ve had to
work pretty hard for some prizes, I assume?”

  Naut might’ve made his fortune at the gambling tables, but Enzio knew what kind of prizes he was speaking of. “Of course. The pursuit is the real fun.”

  The other man was still staring down at the courtyard. “And you’ve never met anyone who resisted your charms?”

  This was getting a little personal. Enzio frowned. “When a woman tells you she isn’t interested, you leave her alone. But those who are interested… Well, no, I’ve never met anyone who resisted for too long.”

  Naut nodded, as if he’d been deep in thought, then turned to prop his hip against the windowsill and stare hard at Enzio. “So what you’re saying is, there’s not a woman out there you haven’t been able to seduce?”

  Actually, no, Enzio hadn’t said that. He’d always been very aware of how much power he had—being a prince—and how much he deserved—absolutely none—and how much that could affect a woman.

  “What are you getting at?”

  Naut shrugged, but the smirk hadn’t left his lips. “I know a woman who absolutely could resist you, and I’m willing to put money on her.”

  “You want to wager me I won’t be able to seduce a woman?” That sounded a little too edgy for Enzio. “Are you insane?”

  “Nope,” Naut said cheerfully, “just very sure. I’ll bet you…” He pulled both hands out of his pockets, producing a few rumpled bills and coins in each hand, which he slammed down on the windowsill and quickly counted. “I’ll bet you twenty-three American dollars, five Kroner, and sixty-nine øre you can’t get a kiss from her before the Christmas Eve ball.”

  This was ridiculous. The twenty-fourth was only a few weeks away, and while that would’ve been plenty of time to get a kiss out of an interested woman, whoever Naut was thinking of obviously was indifferent. He was here in Aegiria for only a few weeks and had intended on spending his time with some willing companions.

  He glared at the pile of crumbled bills—the piddling amount was insulting—and growled, “Does this woman know you’re wagering on her?”

  “If she doesn’t, she should.” Naut jerked his head towards the large window. “Check her out.”

  Still not sure this was really happening, Enzio leaned closer to the glass. Whereas before, he’d stared out over the palace’s wing and outbuildings, over the rock outcropping towards the Solrighavn, now he looked down instead. The courtyard had been bustling earlier today, with various staff and palace employees hurrying back and forth. But now, in the winter twilight, there was only one person.

  She was bundled up against the frigid Baltic Sea air in a pea coat of some dark color. There were lamps on poles around the courtyard, just enough light for Enzio to pick out her pale hair spread across her shoulders. She stepped out from under one of the four large leafless trees, which had stood sentinel for as long as he could remember, and into the empty brick square.

  It was snowing slightly, tiny flakes drifting down as if they had nothing better to do and nowhere else to be, but that wasn’t unusual in Aegiria this time of year. But the flakes were only noticeable when they fell into the beams of light put out by the lanterns, or the large spotlight security had installed up above after the summer’s kidnappings.

  Intrigued, one corner of Enzio’s lips twisted up as he watched her kick at the small snowdrifts in an aimless sort of way. She didn’t seem to be in the courtyard for any particular reason; she was just there because she enjoyed it. Because she liked the snow, or liked being outdoors? Or because she was the kind of woman who could embrace her desires and yearnings?

  “Who is she?” he heard himself murmur, not entirely against his will.

  “That, my dear cousin, is Nova Willetts, my step-mother’s interim royal archivist. She’s been here since the autumn researching for her book, and she’s completely unapproachable.”

  Unapproachable.

  Did that mean Naut had tried to approach her, but had been turned down? Was she too standoffish, or was she just not interested in Naut? But seeing her there, enjoying herself in private, Enzio didn’t think this Ms. Willetts was aloof. She seemed to know exactly what she enjoyed, and was willing to let herself enjoy them.

  There was something so… so freeing, standing here watching her. He felt like a voyeur, watching her joy, and the thought made him both uncomfortable and a little warm. Only a few weeks left in Aegiria, and he’d intended to spend them with some extremely engrossing company. But suddenly, more than anything else, he wanted to meet this Nova Willetts. Wanted to learn all about her.

  Wanted to kiss her.

  That’s when she stopped in the middle of the brick square and pulled off the dark knit cap she’d been wearing. Even though it had to be freezing out there, she threw her head back, closed her eyes, and spun in a circle, her pale hair streaming out around her.

  And His Highness, Marc Enzio of Velarno felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest.

  She is light and warmth and distant energy.

  “I’ll take your wager.”

  The adorable mormor—grandmother—perched on the edge of the comfortable leather chair smiled hugely at Nova, her four remaining teeth bright in the light from the studio spots. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet, but Nova and her crew had commandeered this small room weeks ago and covered all the windows with thick black cloths so the room would be dark, lit only from the angles the filmographer demanded.

  Today, the light was coming in over Nova’s shoulder because she was not required to be in this shot. The elderly woman she was interviewing was the star of this segment, so she’d have the camera on her the entire time. Nova was hoping to use her stories to frame the documentary, since she was just so…so darn cheerful.

  “Tell me about the Christmas Eve traditions you remember from your childhood,” she prompted in Aegirian.

  The plump old woman giggled like a little girl and swung her feet as she began her story. Nova had met her and her son—already a grandfather himself—when she visited one of the nation’s remote mountain villages. This particular lady, who only came up to Nova’s elbow, was the matriarch of the village, and a wealth of information. The initial interviews about folklore, for the book Nova was writing, had taken place right there in the woman’s home. But to fulfill Queen Viktoria’s request in time for the Christmas ball, Nova had brought some of her best primary sources here to this little makeshift studio in the palace.

  Although she knew the cameras were faithfully recording the little old lady’s memories of Christmases long past, Nova took a few notes along the way. For one thing, it would help her remember which direction she wanted to take the questioning—it was silly to ask all subjects the same questions, after all—and it also helped the interviewee know she was paying attention. To that end, she made sure to smile often and meet the old lady’s eyes as she spoke about the old traditions.

  When she trailed off, Nova was there to nudge her again. “And when you woke up on Christmas morning? Had Father Christmas visited?”

  The mormor laughed merrily at Nova’s teasing tone, and launched into another treasure trove of oral history. “The girls, my sisters and I, had made gifts for our father and brothers. Little things—new scarves, mittens, you know,” the woman said in Aegirian.

  Aegirian wasn’t Nova’s native tongue, of course, and sometimes it was difficult to keep up with the stories in real time as they were being told—thank goodness for the film crew and digital records!—but years of research had taught Nova how to coax the best stories out of her subjects. She laughed at the appropriate times and nodded in agreement.

  For now, Nova smiled and leaned forward to show the little old lady how interested she was. Her interview subject took the bait and continued.

  “But it was the gifts from Father Christmas we most looked forward to! This was after the war, you know, so there’d be metal toys—cars with real wheels that turned! I remember I once got a pram for my dollies, and my sisters were so jealous!”

  The old woman’s s
tories about homemade toys, terrible winters, sleds made without metal, and cheerful foraging were enough to melt even the hardest heart. Nova had been a historian long enough to fully appreciate living in the modern era…but she loved to hear these primary-source accounts of days long past, and was proud to know she was helping to preserve them.

  It was time for another question, and something the mormor had said would transition nicely. Nova had discovered the older women tended to remember food, recipes, and meal memories better than the older men did, so she’d decided to prompt this lady in that direction.

  “I have fond memories of Christmas treats too, Grandmother! I want to ask you about desserts, but for now, tell me about the main—”

  Meat? Dish? Nova’s eyes went wide in panic and she dropped them to the notes on her lap, frantically skimming to see if she’d written down the Aegirian word for “main course” anywhere, and dreading the idea of having to pull out her phone’s translation app. How utterly embarrassing! She wasn’t just a historian, but an accomplished linguist too, and she’s been here in Aegiria long enough to remember simple words, for goodness sake!

  “Tell me about the…the…”

  The panic began to claw its way up her throat, and she was just about to admit defeat and substitute the word “meat,” when a man’s voice from the darkness near the door came to her rescue.

  “Hovedrett.”

  Hovedrett, of course! It was a Norwegian word as well, which made sense, and it was exactly what she’d wanted to say. How had the man known that?

  Trying to calm her heartbeat, she turned back to the old woman and smiled brightly. “Tell me about the main course. The hovedrett.”