Page 15 of The Princess Home for Christmas

His heart turned over. “Can we sneak off tonight, go somewhere just you and me?”

A corner of her mouth lifted. “Yes, please.” She leaned into him. “I can think of nothing better.”

He studied her mouth, the soft curl, the fullness of her lower lip. For years he had wanted to test their velvet smoothness.

They sat at the back of the bus. She moved closer, lifting her chin.

He needed no more invitation and met her mouth with his own, pressing into her lips’

softness. He wrapped his arm more completely around her and tried to pull her closer. The bus hit a bump and bounced them in their seat.

Her lips smiled beneath his. “This is rather difficult.” She backed away. “Not sure how we did this in middle school.”

His eyebrow lifted. “Middle school, eh?” he cleared his throat. “I had no such experience in middle school.”

Her face turned a lovely pink. “Well, there was this one time...”

“Who?” A sudden twinge of jealousy, irrational, pestered him.

“Really? You’re gonna be jealous of some kid in middle school?”

“Well, I was right there. Could have been me, that’s all I’m saying.”

Her eyes turned earnest again. “And it should have been.”

His deep laugh startled even himself. “No, believe me, no it shouldn’t. I have a much better chance of appealing to a beautiful woman now than I did then.” He reached for her hand again and toyed with her fingers. “And you have always been stunning. Fascinating me then and captivating me now.”

She snuggled into him all the way to Main Street. When the bus pulled to a stop and they unloaded, she tugged on his hand. “Come on.” The famous tea shop on the corner seemed less populated, with everyone out on the street to hear the carolers. They pushed through the crowd, ignoring surprised faces as some recognized them. Hopefully the sheer number of royals and big names would give the crowd too many to focus on and Dahlia and Thomas could leave unnoticed.

They slipped inside, Thomas looking over his shoulder. For once, no one seemed to be watching. Nico was announcing a special prize across the square and the caroling would begin any moment.

They found a corner booth in the back. Thomas thrilled when Dahlia sat on his bench with him again and sat close enough he could put an arm around her.

After they ordered, Thomas wanted to make the most of this quiet moment together. “Dahlia. Tell me about your major, your plans. What you’re involved in.”

She laughed. “Whoa, now, which thing?” She shook her head. “Actually they’re all related.” She placed a hand on his thigh as she turned to talk to him, her eyes wide with excitement. Probably completely unaware of the effect her nearness had on him, she seemed full of energy and earnest.

He had waited so long for a chance to do just this with her. He prevented a silly grin from taking over his face and he watched her while she spoke, enjoying her smile and the light in her face.

“I want to be involved in international rescue work, nonprofits, aid.”

He nodded. “A perfect fit for you.”

“The distribution of wealth in the world is so skewed, and I have found more often than not, people would love an opportunity to help someone else in desperate circumstances.” She wiggled so she could more fully face him. “So many organizations out there are trying to do good things, some are more effective than others. I would like to create an umbrella organization that would help coordinate, help do quality checks to keep the crooks away, and help match up the needs with those who would be willing to help.”

Thomas’ interest peaked, and he forgot for a moment how much he enjoyed her nearness. “This is brilliant. It could even be set up as an app, where caring people could become aware of needs and right from their phones offer to help.” His mind spun with possibilities. “Have you begun work on this yet? Plans? A team?”

Dahlia laughed, a light sparkled in her eye. “I am working on it, but would love your input.” Her face clouded. “And your notoriety. For some projects, having the press so ready to talk about you is a great help to the work.”

“And for others?” He watched her face.

She concealed whatever emotion was troubling her and said, “Some have to be handled with the greatest secrecy.”

Ah, so Dahlia had her secrets. “Your work with the refugees?”

She paled but kept her voice steady. “I would definitely not want attention drawn to any aspect of my work with the refugees.” She stared at her hands for a moment and then twisted so she was again facing their table.

The waiter brought out tea with the teapot and matching cups and a tray full of their best tea cakes.

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