The Prince's Christmas Vow. Jennifer Faye
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Demetrius crossed his muscular arms. “Perhaps hiring you was a mistake—”
“No—” Zoe bit back her next words, but it was too late. Demetrius’s brows had lifted at her sudden outburst.
“I mean, we have an agreement in writing.”
“And you didn’t think that I would leave myself a loophole—a way out if the need arose?”
Who was this man? And what had happened to the laid-back Demetrius?
Her gut told her to get out now. That she was getting in far too deep with a man who still had a hold on her heart.
To complicate matters further, she had no job to return to. She’d already resigned from her position as interior designer for the island’s most prominent furniture store. And most importantly this job paid well—well enough to pay her mother’s bills.
Zoe was stuck.
“You still haven’t answered my question. Why did you hire me?” She watched him carefully, not sure what sort of reaction to expect.
“I wanted the best for this job. And you are the best on the island.”
Was he serious? He thought she was the best? A warmth swirled in her chest and rose to warm her cheeks. Their gazes connected and held. Her heart thudded harder, faster. She refused to acknowledge that his words meant anything to her. She was over him. Past him.
“So you just expect us to work together like … like nothing ever happened?”
The Prince’s
Christmas Vow
Jennifer Faye
Award-winning author JENNIFER FAYE pens fun, heartwarming romances. Jennifer has won the RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award, is a Top Pick author and has been nominated for numerous awards. Now living her dream, she resides with her patient husband, one amazing daughter—the other remarkable daughter is off chasing her own dreams—and two spoiled cats. She’d love to hear from you via her website: www.jenniferfaye.com.
To my readers …
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Contents
THE PLAN WAS in motion.
Though suddenly, it didn’t sound like such a good idea.
Demetrius Castanavo, the Crown Prince of the Mirraccino Islands, shrugged off the worrisome feeling as he stepped out of the air-conditioned black limousine. Nothing was going to go wrong. He glanced at the clear blue sky, appreciating this last bit of good weather before it cooled down in the weeks leading up to Christmas.
Demetrius buttoned his charcoal-gray suit jacket, gave each sleeve a tug and then straightened his shoulders. Today he must look his best. It was imperative.
A bright camera flash momentarily blinded him.
He blinked, regaining his focus. The media coverage had begun. He restrained a sigh. Instead he lifted his chin and forced his lips into a well-practiced smile.
Demetrius, the royal playboy, was no more. His days of nonchalance and bucking the system were over. Now he was intent on becoming a proper and worthy heir to the Mirraccino throne. It was, after all, his birthright—whether he desired it or not.
And now he was about to participate in a very important interview that would help shape his new, improved public image—one he hoped would