Page 1 of The Princess Home for Christmas

Chapter 1

Her flight home would have been without incident but for one thing—which was her own fault.

She was bored. Which led to pulling out her phone. And then, even though it hyped up her irritation, Dahlia Valdez scrolled through text messages from her friends.

“He’s so hot! OMGsh!”

“Have you seen the latest Torren hottie?”

“Tell me you know this guy!”

And then their GM was filled with image after image of the guy in a tux, on his yacht, without a shirt, helping children. They even scraped up a picture of him in high school, perhaps the only one where he looked comparably hot, in glasses, smirking at the camera over his science lab materials.

She’d seen him. She knew him, when they were kids. And she thought she was done knowing him when they left high school. She sighed. Sounding like a teenager even in her thoughts made her cringe. Everyone viewed her as younger than she was, all the brothers, their mother, the other royals, her extended family. Somehow as the youngest Valdez, she was perpetually stuck at around sixteen years of age. She turned off her phone and put it away. Hopefully the world would move on to a more interesting obsession, someone other than Thomas Castellanos.

The flight attendant brought her some magazines to read as requested. She pulled the top one off of her pile and wanted to toss it back to the unsuspecting flight attendant. Thomas Castellanos on the cover of People. Thomas Castellanos. The squirrely boy she had climbed trees with when they were ten. The same boy who tried to get her to come to his high school prom. Tried, and succeeded when his parents talked to her parents and forced her to go.

And now he had a Doctorate from Yale University in the United States and looked much taller than he had years ago. And just as hot as all her friends claimed.

Handsome is as handsome does. She refused to be impressed. Though, by the looks of his bio, he was much more than handsome.

Each of her brothers had earned that same title, as well as world’s most handsome man and other things. They sort of hated the attention, because it just meant an increase in security and paparazzi everywhere they tried to travel. Dahlia had avoided magazine covers. She dreaded any sort of photo shoot, hated family pictures even. She spent much of her growing up years doing everything she could to avoid publicity. Her parents respected her wishes. For the most part she had flown under the radar. Some people didn’t even know the Valdez brothers had a sister, people outside her homeland.

Young, short wiry Thomas of the past was now a world sensation. And she was annoyed. When her friends discussed him nonstop, she considered blocking all their phone numbers. She skimmed the article and admitted she was impressed. He actually did things with his life, headed the science department at Torren University and supported the orphanage nearby.

The person next to her, a forty something lady, leaned over her and pointed at Thomas. “Ooh. The Greek one. He’s my favorite.”

Dahlia grimace-smiled and turned the page.

She hadn’t seen Thomas in years. For some reason his sudden popularity, his success, and most of all, his amazing good looks bothered her.

The plane landed and she rushed to the Valdez car. Home for Christmas. The whole airport was decorated for the holidays. As was their custom, Torren celebrated all the cultures of the world in one way or another throughout the season. Dahlia thought it a brilliant Valdez custom, decades old. And as a child she loved it because she had always been fascinated by other cultures. They even had a longer Christmas celebration than most nations, stretching it sometimes until January 17th, when the Armenians finally celebrated.

As she made her way to the private hanger, and pick-up location for her family, the rich vibrant colors of Central America lined the walls, a row of piñatas hanging from the ceiling high above the passengers’ heads. Her staff would collect her bags and follow shortly behind. Dahlia exited the airport doors and climbed into her waiting car.

Lucan grinned from the seat opposite.

“Brother!”

“Thought I’d surprise you.”

“Where’s your queen?” Dahlia loved to tease him. Lucan would soon be the king of Spain, married to Anna, their queen.

“She’s back at the palace, can’t wait to see you. There’s supposed to be some story about the punk that she needs to hear.”

Dahlia rolled her eyes. Her ex-boyfriend felt like ages ago. “I should have broken up with him.”

“I thought you were broken up?”

“Well, we are. But he did it. Makes it worse.”

Lucan laughed. “Not a big deal. Let him save his pride. You’ll have fewer enemies that way.”

Dahlia lifted a shoulder. She didn’t care all that much, except it rankled. She’d get over it. “Is everyone home?” She smiled, looking forward to Christmas at the palace.

“They are. You’re the last one to arrive.”

“This year will be special, won’t it?”

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