Page 31 of A Prince for Christmas

Lizzie timidly approached Nick and handed him a long, slim box wrapped in white tissue paper with a Christmas-red ribbon. “We figured she might need these,” she said shyly.

Nick handed me the box and waited while I opened it. It was a pair of gloves the color of the lightest feather in the fascinator. They were long, almost to the elbow. Almost before I knew it, Nick had taken the gloves out of the box and helped me into them. They were nothing like the gloves I wore to the barn in the winter. That’s all I could say about them. They really were way too fancy for me, but my sisters were awed by the sight of me in a bright green fascinator, a rather racy blouse, and elegant, green gloves. They were probably picturing me being swept away to a palace by my prince.

Awed isn’t the word I’d use for the rest of the audience. Mom, Dad and Nick grabbed their phones and began shooting pics of me. Laughing, I gave in and posed for them—a regal, beauty queen wave, a demure look, and a few others.

The rest of Christmas Day was wonderful as well. Nick chuckled at the girls’ gift to him of English Leather cologne, and they seemed to love the cashmere scarf sets he’d gotten them. He’d brought Mom an assortment of English delicacies, teacakes, British toffee and licorice, and a subscription plan to deliver such things for the next 12 months. For Dad, a bottle of expensive-looking Scotch, with an apology.

“I didn’t know you were a bourbon man, Sir,” Nick said, looking uncomfortable.

Dad grinned and help up the bottle, surveying it with satisfaction. “I’m anxious to expand my tastes,” he said with a good-natured chuckle.

I couldn’t wait to give Nick the leather vest I’d had custom made for him. He put it on, and I had to admit, he looked downright silly. I tried to hold back my laughter as he tried to do some sort of jig, which he said he thought American cowboys did. My sisters howled and rolled on the floor with laughter, knocking over a candle and almost lighting the dragon costume’s tail on fire before they recovered. I gave in and giggled a bit too, but Nick said he loved it and planned to wear it back home, if only to scandalize his mother.

When he was done, he slid into the loveseat with me, pulling me into his arms and insisting I open his gift next. It was a necklace, a Celtic knot design with a beautiful green stone at its center. I swallowed hard as he helped me fasten it around my neck. I hoped it was silver, though it looked more like white gold. He shouldn’t have spent that much on me!

“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, thinking that it was too much, too soon. It also made my gift look like even more of a joke.

The rest of the day passed as was usual—we lounged around, laughed, and ate too much at Christmas dinner. I wished it could be Christmas forever.

Nightfall came too soon, as it always did in Montana winters. As we all bid each other goodnight, I wondered if the connection Nick and I had formed was just the Christmas magic, or was it something more real? I didn’t want to be sensible for once, though, so I didn’t let myself ponder it too long. Instead, I basked in the feeling of love I’d had all day, the joy of the holiday, the warmth I always got from family and the way Nick had fit right in, despite his princely status. I lay my hand over the necklace I still wore, smiled, and fell into a peaceful slumber.

CHAPTER 13

A soft knock on my door awakened me. I made some kind of sleep-addled sound as I struggled back to wakefulness, wondering if something was wrong. Nick stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind him before he moved across the room and slipped between the covers with me.

“I couldn’t wait any longer, Em,” he whispered. “I have to talk to you, to make it right. Can I stay?”

I nodded, and he moved closer and encircled me in his arms.

“I had to tell you again, to make you understand. I never meant to hurt you, and it kills me to think that I did.” He pulled me closer and kissed my forehead.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not mad anymore. I can’t hold a grudge for anything.”

“It’s no excuse, but for once in my life, I wanted to be with someone who liked me for who I am, not what I am. I loved the way you looked at me, really me. Not as the Duke, not as a prince, not as the first in line to the throne. You saw who I was, and I wanted that so much.” His voice caught, and he gently took my face in his hands and stared deep into my eyes.

“I understand,” I said, my throat thick with emotion. I leaned forward and kissed him.

“I loved you,” he whispered, then repeated a little more firmly, “I love you, Emily.”

Looking up into those intense blue eyes, I couldn’t deny it. “I think I’m falling in love with you, too, Nick.” I said, feeling bad at the way I equivocated. “Falling in love” didn’t begin to describe it. I was deep, head-over-heels in love with Nicholas Lancaster, doomed though our love may be.

Nick reached for the necklace he’d given me, the one I had left on because I couldn’t imagine taking it off. He held the pendant in his hand and gazed into my eyes. “There’s something I didn’t tell you in front of your parents. The other name for the Celtic Knot is the Celtic Love Knot, and it stands for true, permanent, abiding love.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down until his lips met mine. In time, we were again all tangled up in the covers, trying to shed our pajamas as we touched, and tasted and simply… Felt.

This time, there was none of the desperation of that first time, no hurry, no anger. We took our time, exploring each other’s bodies, learning responses, and enjoying the difference between love and lust.

Afterwards, as I lay in Nick’s arms, I refused to think of the future and what it might hold. We were young. We had time to learn each other better than we knew ourselves. Time to wrestle with what we were meant to do in this world. Most importantly, time to decide. Time to decide if the mountains behind the house were more important than one person inside it. Time to decide whether teaching in England was really so different from doing it here.

Time to decide whether even the true golden flame of love was enough to conquer circumstances, culture, even family. As the saying went, love conquers all.

I fell asleep cozy in Nick’s arms and only awakened with the first light of dawn casting patterns on the snowy quilt. I came awake to him gently shaking my shoulder. “We’d probably better wake up now,” he murmured, dropping small kisses on my warm cheeks.

I could feel a huge smile spreading over my face. “I suppose, but…” I reached up and gave him a kiss that was more invitation than tease.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said with a laugh, pulling away. “I refuse to be caught by your father in your bed.”

The image made me laugh. “I’m with you on that. But maybe just a quick one?”