Page 31 of Lily and the Billionaire Prince

Lily had pushed away her feelings for Henrik before, after he’d walked with her on the beach. Feelings were hazardous things then, but now? Now they sensed a weakness in her line of defense, and she felt them trickle in once more.

Instead of casting those feelings aside, Lily let them settle in as surely as Henrik’s hands at her waist. These feelings she had for himwerereal, not imaginary fantasy, made all the more real by the burnished, unruly intentions in his eyes.

To her relief, he only danced with her, holding her like she was something precious, allowing whatever unspoken intensity she felt to build among the silence of his gaze.

Henrik sat on his side of the backseat when they left for Ethan’s apartment and didn’t attempt to hold her hand. Ethan dropped Charlotte off, and Lily wondered if her brother could sense the emotional confusion swirling in the backseat.

Tiredly, each of them lost in his or her thoughts, Ethan, Lily, and Henrik went to their personal space in Ethan’s apartment. Lily closed the door to his guest bedroom and changed into her Christmas pajamas and tried to sort through her thoughts and feelings. Something had definitely shifted between her and Henrik during their dance in the hall. She wasn’t sure what and part of her was too scared to find out.

When she estimated that a reasonable amount of time had passed so she could prepare for bed in Ethan’s only bathroom, she opened the bedroom door. Henrik had to be asleep now, didn’t he?

As tradition would have it, Ethan left his Christmas tree lights on all night. The rest of the room was dark enough, hopefully, Henrik would be able to sleep.

She attempted to tiptoe past him when he stirred from his position on the couch. “There you are,” he whispered.

Lily’s eyes closed. She forced a smile and turned on her socked heel. “I thought you’d be asleep.”

“Not without saying goodnight.” He held out a hand, indicating his desire for her to join him. Lily paused long enough to peer toward Ethan’s door. Her brother’s light was off, and no sound other than his soft snores came through.

She knew there was a valid argument why she shouldn’t give in to Henrik’s request, but at the moment, that argument didn’t surface. Still, she couldn’t give in.

“Goodnight, Henrik,” she said, turning into the bathroom instead.

Lily’s heart pounded as she closed the bathroom door behind her. She’d just rejected a prince. What was she doing? Would it have been so bad to join him on the couch?

Yes. Yes, it would have.

She brushed her teeth, all the while wondering what he’d meant, wondering what might have happened if she’d given in. She rinsed toothpaste from her mouth when a soft knock struck the door.

“Ethan?” she said softly.

“Open the door?”

Henrik’s voice. Not her brother’s.

Lily exhaled. Fingers trembling, she managed the knob. Henrik stood with a hand elevated on the doorjamb beside him, emphasizing the defined shape of his bicep. His hair was devilishly rumpled, his clothes were casual, and his expression was up to no good.

“May I?” he said, and then without waiting for an answer, pushed his way into the bathroom with her and closed the door. The bathroom shrunk in size. A lump leaped in Lily’s throat. Henrik smelled good, so good, and he was looking right at her with a drowsy kind of desire in his eyes.

“You Americans are so peculiar,” he said.

Lily tossed back her hair, attempting to act completely immune to the siren call of him. “You mean you’re just now figuring that out?”

“Do you not leave out shoes for St. Nicholas?”

He’d rammed his way into the bathroom with her to ask this? “Is that a tradition you have in Einvar?”

“It is. We leave our shoes by the fireplace. St. Nicholas comes into our homes and places presents within them.”

Her nose wrinkled at the thought of presents inside of shoes. “Here, we exchange gifts on Christmas morning, and we call St. Nicholas Santa Claus. Although, when Ethan and I were kids, my mom always gave us new pjs on Christmas Eve.”

Henrik stroked a lock of her vibrant red hair as if fascinated by it. Though the touch didn’t actually reach her, every tiny hair on her body raised. “I see. In Einvar, it is tradition to give one gift on the Eve of Christmas.”

Lily shifted, diverted and uncomfortable. Was he saying he was going to give her a present now? Did he have something behind his back? She hadn’t noticed. She’d been too distracted by the size of his arms.

“I don’t have yours ready,” she said, flustered and thinking of the socks she’d gotten him last minute from the Elir Resort gift shop.

“It’s all right,” he said, his voice low. “My gift for you requires no preparation.”

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