The Prince's Christmas Wager Read online

  His laughter subsided to chuckles, then a smile—nothing mere about it, as it stretched across his cheeks and made his eyes do that crinkly thing at the edges.

  Made her stomach flip over.

  Made her breath catch in her throat.

  God help her, but she was in trouble.

  “One dinner,” he repeated as he stood in one smooth, easy motion. “Tonight.”

  It was too soon. But it would get this over with so she could get back to her deadline. Her nod was a little hesitant.

  “You have an apartment here in the palace, yes? I’ll pick you up in the foyer at seven.”

  It wasn’t a question, and was accompanied by a lip-quirk which she thought might be a smile. Or an attempt at a smile? But now she’d seen his real smile, how could he think to use these “charming” smiles on her?

  She frowned thoughtfully, but nodded just the same.

  “Until tonight, cara mia.”

  When he reached across the table, Nova realized what he intended with a sudden, sharp clarity. Jerking backwards, she made sure her hands—and any body parts—were well out of his grasp. The look he was sending her screamed he was about to kiss her hand, and—and…

  And she couldn’t allow that.

  It was one thing to agree to share a meal with him—just to learn his secrets, she reminded herself. But if she let him touch her, all bets were off. If he touched her, she’d forget he was a charmer, a playboy, just like Wayne, and she’d do something she’d regret.

  Like let him kiss her.

  His reaction to her withdrawal wasn’t what she’d expected. Instead of being hurt, his eyes crinkled again and he looked one breath away from laughter as he executed an abbreviated bow from his place above the cafeteria table.

  “I believe I’m looking forward to this date more than any other.”

  “Dinner,” she corrected him. It was just dinner.

  His smile—his real smile—grew. “Yes.”

  And as Nova watched him saunter away, his coffee in one hand and the other in his trouser pocket, she couldn’t help but watch his butt. It was a nice butt.

  Of course, the word “butt” didn’t really apply to a man who bowed and was educated at Cambridge, did it? He probably had a “derriere.” Or “buttocks.” Or a “gluteus maximus.”

  Was he really that smart? She’d met many smart men in her academic life, but even more who’d been educated at fancy schools thanks to their parents’ money.

  Nautilus Hayes was one of them, and he’d used his education for absolutely nothing. Not only that, but she’d been forced to tell him off a time or two, reminding him just because he had a lovely smile—probably dental work on his parents’ dime again—she wasn’t going to fall into bed with him.

  Most men didn’t like to hear that.

  But Enzio hadn’t been deterred. He’d invited her out to dinner instead.

  And—God help her—Nova was looking forward to it.

  He worked at being enticing, but it was the stuff he wasn’t telling her she was enticed by. Reaching for her tablet once more, she frowned as she ran by that last thought again.

  She was enticed by the stuff he wasn’t telling her?

  Yes, that was it.

  He was a mystery, but not because of the things he wanted her to know about him.

  He was as smooth as salted caramel, and was used to using that voice and that smile to get what he wanted. And maybe that butt too. But it was his other reactions, his mysterious name, his education and traveling, which enticed her.

  As she picked up her spoon once more, a small smile flitted across her lips.

  And maybe the butt too.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Throughout the months she’d been in Aegiria, Nova had heard of Tuuliki’s, but had never actually eaten there. That’s because the place was one of those ridiculously expensive, hipster-foody places with a fixed menu, and you just had to hope you liked whatever they were serving.

  At least, that’s what the google reviews said…when she’d looked it up…four times.

  So, yeah, okay, Nova had spent some time ogling the website and wishing she could justify going there, but had never found any rational excuse to do so.

  Marc Enzio apparently, had no such qualms.

  He’d picked her up exactly as promised at seven in the huge foyer of the palace. In fact, he’d been early, which had been a bit of a surprise. She had expected him to make her wait on him, to prove just how important he was. And in a way, she was disappointed he hadn’t. The annoyance would have been a good thing to help keep her in check. She was certain she would need quite the arsenal to fight against this man and his charms.

  But no, he’d smiled when he’d seen her, and when he’d offered his arm and she’d refused it, he’d laughed instead of being offended. When she saw the sleek black Mercedes waiting out front for him—for them—she’d suddenly wished she’d chosen to wear something a little fancier than the black slacks and green sweater she had on. But now, as they pulled up in front of Tuuliki’s, she positively knew she should’ve dressed better.

  Of course, what actually happened, was she’d squealed, then slammed her palm over her mouth in embarrassment.

  When she looked over and saw him looking at her with a twinkle in his eyes and one side of his lips twisted up, she nearly groaned in mortification.

  “Everything alright?” His silky-smooth voice teased. “We can go someplace else, if you prefer.”

  “No!” She cleared her throat and lowered her hand, turning towards the restaurant once more and pretending she hadn’t just acted like a child. “No. I’m fine. I’m just—I got excited.”

  “Good, I was worried…”

  When he trailed off, she risked a peek over at him, not wanting him to see she might possibly be interested in what he had to say. He was looking…well, nervous, almost. His hands were still gripping the steering wheel, and he was staring out the front window as intently as she’d been.

  Why would a charmer like him be nervous? Was he?

  Intriguinger and intriguinger, my dear!

  Nova knew it was impossible to roll her inner eye, but she tried it. Her brain was such a dork, sometimes.

  She risked prompting him. “You were worried?”

  His lips rose in that charming easy smile of his, and when he glanced her way, he appeared to be completely in control once more. “I was worried you wouldn’t like good food. This place is the best in the city.”

  Ah.

  There were times she wasn’t sure if she imagined his moments of unguardedness, his realness, because then he’d say something like that, and she’d be reminded of Wayne once more.

  “I’m hungry,” she said flatly, frowning at him. “Let’s eat.”

  Whatever he’d said in the car had been wrong, but Enzio didn’t want to ask why. If he did, he ran the risk of Nova actually telling him, and then he’d have to admit what he’d really been thinking, which was he’d been worried about this date.

  For the first time in a long time, he was worried about a woman’s reaction to a date.

  Why? Why did this dinner matter? He was honest with himself—Naut’s twenty-three dollars and whatever change he had in his pockets didn’t matter—Enzio wasn’t here tonight with Nova because of the money.

  He was here because of her.

  From the moment he’d seen her in the courtyard, seen the joy in her body language as she appreciated the night air, he’d been enthralled. And then to find out she was a doctor and an accomplished linguist? Naut hadn’t bothered to mention any of that, and not for the first time, Enzio wondered if his step-cousin even knew.

  Or had Naut, much like Enzio had at first, only seen Nova’s beauty?

  In fact, Enzio had taken the wager because of Nova’s beauty, but would’ve forfeited with his honor intact if she’d refused him. But once he’d met her, he’d found himself pushing for more; for a date, and a chance to get to know her better.

  Because while he�
�d always chosen his conquests based on their appearances, he was surprised to find himself intrigued by Dr. Nova Willetts. He wanted to learn her secrets, find out all about her. Discover if she was as smart as he suspected she was, and hear all about her work in the archives.

  Kissing her was actually pretty far down on his list of priorities at this point, and hadn’t that been a surprising realization while combing his hair this evening? He was on a date because he genuinely wanted to know the woman.

  Hmm.

  Most of the tables in Tuuliki’s were of the cozy two-person variety, since the plates were small, though numerous. He’d called that afternoon—without telling them who he was—and requested one of the small round tables overlooking Solberg Avenue. Aegiria was all decked out for Christmas, with small twinkling lights strung from lamppost to lamppost, and boughs hung with big red bows on every available surface. It was almost magical among the gently falling snow, and from her rapt attention, he knew she saw it too.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered in awe, once the server had poured their wine and backed away.

  Enzio’s attention was on the curve of her jaw, the gentle way her lips parted in wonder. “It really is,” he agreed quietly.

  When she turned to look at him, one brow raised in that same challenging manner he’d noticed at lunchtime, he only just stopped himself from blushing at his ridiculous comment. Instead, he tried one of the smiles in his repertoire and changed the subject.

  “You’re the Royal Archivist? That must be fascinating.”

  “It is.” She glanced out the window once more. “But it’s interim.”

  “What is?”

  “The post.” Her lovely blue eyes flicked towards him once, as if confused over why he failed to follow the conversation. “Her Majesty hasn’t appointed an official archivist, but I was accepted for a year as the interim.”

  Enzio had never held down a job, but he understood all about persistence and skills. After all, he’d spent his adulthood sharpening the weapons in his arsenal for occasions such as these. Mostly they were smiles, but oftentimes he also used knowing glances and gentle touches. Laughter, gestures, the many tones of his voice…they were all tools of his trade.

  Now he employed his How-Utterly-Fascinating tone and smile Number Five, his You’re-Doing-a-Good-Job smile. They always worked to encourage other people to talk about themselves. “Why are you here for only a year?”

  This time she really did frown at him. Because he didn’t know the answer? Or because she had seen through his attempts to charm her?

  “Because of Her Majesty’s Christmas documentary. You really haven’t heard of it? I assumed—”

  “What?” he asked when she’d cut herself off.

  She shrugged, and he admired the way her shoulders moved under that hunter green sweater. It appeared to be soft and warm, while still looking delicate. Just like her. And it looked great against her pale blonde hair, even if she was a little under-dressed for Tuuliki’s.

  “Because you were in my recording studio this morning,” she finally admitted, staring out the window, as if she didn’t care about his reaction. “I assumed you were there for a reason.”

  “Oh, I tend to wander into interesting-looking places all the time.”

  Apparently she wasn’t fooled by his attempts at modesty. “I’ve been in Aegiria since the end of summer, and I haven’t seen you wandering into interesting-looking places before.” Tilting her head, she pierced him with a suddenly too-knowing look. “I wonder why that is.”

  I’m a prince.

  He could blurt it out here and now, but he didn’t. Earlier, he hadn’t introduced himself properly, either, and he didn’t know why. Being a prince was a pretty good way to get dates, get kisses. He could probably win Naut’s wager with the knowledge, but—

  No. No, actually, he probably couldn’t. Nova didn’t seem the type to be impressed by who his parents might be, and any title he may hold.

  In fact, she’d probably go back to scowling when she found out.

  So he just shrugged, not willing to lie, but not willing to admit the whole truth just yet. “I’m just visiting for the holidays. I used to come when I was younger, which is why I speak the language. What’s Her Majesty’s Christmas documentary?” he asked quickly to change the subject.

  The first plates arrived, and he was aware she watched him as he listened to the server’s explanation, then thanked the young man. When Enzio looked across the table to her again, she was still staring at him with that little “V” between her eyebrows showing her frown, even if her lips didn’t.

  He gestured for her to continue.

  “Her Majesty commissioned a documentary,” Nova began slowly. “As part of this year’s celebrations for her re-marriage, she wants to reframe how Aegirians think about their past and their future. Her new husband is the royal science adviser, you know?”

  Enzio settled into his chair and picked up his fork. “I did know that. So that’s part of the future reframing she’s imagining?”

  She blinked at him. “I’m impressed,” she admitted, picking up her own fork and poking at her gravadlax. “Yes, Dr. Hayes has helped her see the country’s ecology and economy are closely linked, and she wants to make sure her people see that as well. What is this?”

  “Part of that ecology.” He grinned at her distrust and lifted a piece to his mouth. “Cured pickled salmon from the Baltic.”

  Her expression cleared as she bit into it, and he knew she was experiencing the rich saltiness the same as he was. This place had an amazing menu.

  “Okay,” he said as he finished. “So that’s the reframing of the future dialogues. The documentary is part of the history, I’m assuming?”

  A nod, and not quite begrudging, either. “Her Majesty wants to highlight various traditions during the Christmas season, and the documentary will be shown first at the Christmas Eve Ball. It features some of the oldest Aegirian citizens and their memories of past Christmases. That’s why I was asking the mormor about dinners she remembered.” Nova was fiddling with her fork now, poking at the remains of her gravadlax. “Thank you for your help, by the way,” she said without looking at him.

  Enzio allowed himself a little smile. “You’re welcome.” He’d just known what it was she was trying to ask the little old lady, and hadn’t questioned his instinct. “I’m glad I could be helpful,” he said softly.

  And when she finally met his eyes, he realized it hadn’t been a lie. He was glad he had been helpful, because His Highness, Prince Marc Enzio Frederic Carlo Jaime Kendran of Velarno, was never helpful. That was sort of his identity; the useless youngest sibling, the layabout wastrel who was only interested in chatting with people and hearing their stories. Good for nothing.

  But he’d helped her.

  “Thank you,” she repeated in a whisper.

  With her words, suddenly, he felt as if he were a knight in a fairy tale. A knight was useful. He went out and did things. The prince just showed up and kissed the princess, but the knight got to have adventures and kill dragons and produce things his parents could be proud of.

  Whoa, where’d that come from?

  He knew good and well where that thought had come from. It’d come from the tight little ball of memories he’d shoved far down in his mind; the memories of the times he’d gone to his father with a discovery or a fascinating piece of history from one of Nonna’s books, and His Highness the Prince Consort had looked at his son in utter disgust and declared: “Your hobbies are as useless as you are.”

  Useless maybe, but he’d helped Nova.

  Enzio cleared his throat and picked up his last bite of gravadlax. “And you’re doing a good job with the documentary, I assume? It’s coming along?”

  Nova lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “I was chosen from dozens of applicants because of my experience with oral histories. Yes, it’s coming along swimmingly.”

  He chuckled at the way she used his phrase from earlier that
day, and how defiantly proud she looked of herself, as if challenging him to downplay her accomplishments. Which he’d never do, of course.

  As the server cleared their plates and brought the next dish, Enzio prodded for more information. “And what’s your experience with oral histories, Doctor?”

  As if realizing he wasn’t going to mock her for her pride, Nova deflated slightly, the little “V” back between her eyes. Why? Had he confused her?

  She must really have a terrible opinion of him, hmm? To be surprised he didn’t insult her skills?

  “I’m considered somewhat of an expert of folklore. It’s what my PhD is in, and the subject of my books.”

  “Wait, books? As in plural?” Enzio didn’t even care he’d plopped his elbow down on the table as he leaned forward. “You’ve written books?”

  “Ah…” She leaned away from him slightly, looking hesitant. “I’m working on my fifth, here in Aegiria. They’re all studies on the folklore and obscure legends of various small kingdoms around the world. I’ve written books based on oral histories from Anhil, East Bornberg, Dakarta and Sventeli. They each examine how the official histories of the countries can be supported or challenged by the folklore the citizens remember, either socially or individually.”

  Wow.

  Enzio plopped his fork down. “Wow,” he repeated out loud. “I don’t think I know too many people who’ve written books, much less five of them. And none as beautiful as you.”

  Judging from her sudden frown, his Number Six, I-Find-You-Attractive-and-I-Want-To-Get-To-Know-You-Better smile wasn’t working.

  She was offended by his charm? Dr. Nova Willetts wasn’t like any other woman he knew.

  “So, what do you think of the dill soup?”

  She seemed willing to accept his change of subject, and they spent the next few courses talking about the food itself and the various meals they’d tried all over the world. Nova was better traveled than even he was; Enzio knew Europe fairly well, but she’d been everywhere, it seemed like.

  And he didn’t bother to hide his genuine fascination as he asked her questions about Borneo and East Bornberg and Brazil’s rainforests.