A Princess By Christmas. Jennifer Faye
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she was frustrating. “Someone else must have taken my reservation. Surely you’re not the only person who works here.” Then again, this place was smaller than he’d been expecting. “Are you?”
Her forehead crinkled. “No, I’m not. But anyone you’d have spoken to would have checked the online system and known we were booked.”
Not about to give up, he thought back to the phone call when he’d made the reservation. “It was a woman I spoke to about getting a room. She sounded a bit older than you. She took my information.”
She frowned. “Maybe you do have a reservation. It’s possible it didn’t get entered in our system.” She lowered her head and shook it. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have anywhere for you to stay. We are hosting a wedding this weekend.”
He’d boarded three different flights today just to be sure he’d lost the paparazzi. And he’d suffered through a long layover in the Atlanta airport, cramped in a chair. All he wanted to do now was enjoy a warm meal and a soft bed. He held back a yawn. Rather make that a soft bed and then the warm meal. Anything else was unacceptable.
He straightened to his full six-foot-three-inch height and pressed his hands to his waist. He swallowed his frustration and strove for a professional tone. “What about my deposit?”
Her lush lips gaped and her face paled. “You made a deposit?”
“Yes. Check your computer.”
Her eyes widened. “Mr. DeLuca, I’ll definitely check into getting you a full refund. I’m truly sorry for the inconvenience.”
He glanced around at the historic mansion. His gaze scaled up the rounded staircase, taking in the stained-glass window on the landing. There had to be room somewhere—even if it took a bit of juggling.
“Since you’ve already accepted my money and this place looks spacious enough, I am sure you can set up accommodations for me until this wedding is over.” He flashed her one of his camera-ready smiles. “After all, I traveled a long way to get here. Now I expect you to hold up your end of the arrangement.”
Her lush lips pressed into a firm line as though she were considering her options before speaking. “Why don’t you follow me into the lobby while I clear up this snafu?”
Without another word the spitfire strode away. Her well-rounded hips sashayed from side to side like the metronome from the days when he’d been forced to take piano lessons. Only the swing of her backside mesmerized him in a way the silly rhythm keeper from his childhood never did. He stared at her until she disappeared back down the hallway.
Alex gave himself a mental jerk. He couldn’t let himself get distracted—no matter how beautiful the distraction. He had a job to do. A mission to complete. His sole duty was to protect the crown of the Mirraccino Islands from a messy scandal—one that would most certainly rock not only the palace walls but also the entire nation.
REESE HARDING STRODE to the back of the mansion, trying not to let the tall, dark stranger get under her skin. All the while, she ignored the prickling sensation at the back of her neck. Let him stare. She wasn’t going to go all soft because he was drop-dead gorgeous and his mere touch made her fingers tingle.
Her gut told her that he was used to getting what he wanted—when he wanted—but it wasn’t going to happen today. There honestly was no room. And by the way he could make her heart race with just a look, it was for the best.
Reese marched into the office just off the kitchen. She suspected that her mother had accepted his reservation. If that were the case, Reese might very well have a legitimate problem. And she’d have no one to blame but herself. When her mother had finally come out of the dark place she had disappeared to after Reese’s father unexpectedly died, she had been so excited to see her mother’s desire to help with the inn that perhaps she’d let her mother have too much freedom.
“Hey, honey.” Her mother peered in from the kitchen. “What are you doing? You just tracked a trail of snow over my clean floors.”
“Sorry.” Reese continued rummaging through the stacks of bills and correspondence on top of the big oak desk. “I need to find something.”
“Can I help?” Her mother’s face lit up. “I’m feeling like my old self now and would really like to be more helpful around here. I could organize the office for you.”
“Mom, we talked about this. I like it the way it is. I can usually find what I’m looking for.” And she would this time, too, if Mr. DeLuca didn’t have her all flustered. “Besides, we don’t want to rush things. You’re doing so well and all, I just don’t want—”
“I know, honey.” Her mother patted her back. “It’s just nice to be needed. So what are you looking for?”
“There’s some guy waiting in the foyer claiming to have a reservation for tonight. Do you recall taking a phone call from an Alex something or other?”
Her mother’s graying head tilted to the side. “I’m not sure. A lot has been happening around here lately.”
Reese stopped shuffling through the papers in the organizer and looked directly at her mother. “This is important. Think real hard. Did you take a reservation from a man with a foreign accent?”
Her mother’s forehead crinkled. “When would he have called?”
“Last week.” Reese grabbed another stack of papers, looking for anything that would confirm that man’s words.
“Seems to me I might recall speaking to someone with a foreign accent. I remember because the connection wasn’t very good.”
“Really? You remember him?”
“If I took his reservation, the money will be in the computer.”
Her mother was right. She was wasting her time searching through all of those papers. She could pop on the computer and confirm Alex’s deposit had been made. She pushed a button to start the computer.
“I’ll leave you alone to figure things out.” Her mother made a beeline for the door.
Reese logged into the resort’s financial account. There was indeed a deposit—a huge deposit. Surely she’d misread the amount. Even after she blinked and refocused, the same enormous dollar figure remained. Her heart picked up its pace as excitement coursed through her veins. There was more than enough cash here to rent out the entire mansion for a month.
She then checked the inn’s online reservation system. There was no mention of Mr. DeLuca. How was that possible?
After some quick sleuthing, she determined that her mother had bypassed the online reservation system and taken his information over the phone manually. Oh, what a mess! She’d have to sit her mother down and have a firm talk about procedures so they could avoid these issues in the future.
Still, this influx of cash was just what they needed to pay the upcoming tax bill, not to mention the bank loan. Calm down. You’re getting ahead of yourself.
It wasn’t like she could accept his money. She didn’t have one single room to offer him. All she could do was offer Mr. Sexy Accent a full refund and hope he’d go away quietly.
But nothing about the man said he’d easily back off from what he wanted. Everything from the man’s every-strand-in-its-place dark hair to his tailored white shirt that covered an obviously buff chest and down to his polished dress shoes said he was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted and the way he wanted it.
Nonetheless, she didn’t have the ability to accommodate him, much less the obviously large party that he planned to host. With a weary sigh, she grabbed the checkbook to write out the refund. The pen hovered over the check and her grip tightened as she thought of turning away all of that money.
She