Page 18 of A Princess for Christmas

She huffed a small laugh that seemed to signal delight. It was cold enough that a puff of steam accompanied it. It called to mind a dragon. If dragons had dimples.

“Mr.Ricci, I have a proposition for you.”

Chapter Four

In the light of day, the princess’s proposition seemed ludicrous. It was like she’d put the whammy on him. Which was funny, because in fairy tales—Gabby still made Leo read to her from a compendium their mom had given her—the princess was always the one being passively manipulated either by an evil stepmother or by a prince kissing her awake or some shit. In stories, the princess was never the one doing the whammying.

But here he was pulling up to the Plaza on a Friday morning to pick up the goddamn heiress to the throne of Eldovia like he was one of those frogs turned into footmen.

But not, he told himself, because there had been any whammying. He wasnotunder her spell or anyone else’s. It was the cash. She’d offered him five grand a day to be her chauffeur. For three days. That was aridiculousamount of money. Enough for him to get caught up on their bills, buy Gabby some nice Christmas presents, and still have a chunk left over for her college fund. Or maybe they’d throw caution to the wind and take a vacation—he’d just been thinking how much he could use one. Gabby’s last day ofschool was today, and she didn’t have to be back until after New Year’s, so maybe they’d head down to Florida and heat their bones for a week after Christmas.

Marie was waiting out front as she’d said she would be—she had insisted he not park and come inside to get her. Leo was impressed: a self-sufficient princess. She’d been that way last night, too, when she’d dismissed her handlers.

But hang on, now. There was no call to get carried away admiring a freaking princess because she could take an elevator in a luxury hotel downstairs by herself.

She hadn’t seen him yet—she was probably expecting the taxi. It didn’t seem right to honk at her, so he got out of the car.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Good morning!”

She hurried toward him. There was no formal gown today. She was wearing a royal blue... dress? Coat? It was like it was both at once—a dress made out of heavy material that was belted like a coat. She had a huge brooch on one shoulder, a green stone the size of a Ping-Pong ball surrounded by diamonds. She also wore black tights, black leather ankle boots, and black leather gloves. The sleeves of her coat only went to her elbows, but the gloves were long, fancy-lady ones.

His first thought was that she looked amazing. The dress-coat thingy, which was fitted on the top and had a swingy skirt, was the same color as her eyes, and it made them pop. As she took his hand and smiled at him as he guided her to the passenger side of the car, it was like looking into a pair of sapphires.

Okay, maybe hewasin danger of being whammied if he was comparing her eyes to gemstones.

But no. Because his second thought was eminently practical:she wasn’t dressed warmly enough for the weather. Last night’s snow had brought with it a serious dip in the temperature. But it probably didn’t matter. For all he knew, she was going to be inside all day. He had agreed to act as her chauffeur for the rest of her trip, but he hadn’t inquired as to what that actually meant.

“Let’s go!” She seemed a little on edge.

“Just you?” He had half expected the big beefy guy to be tagging along.

“Yes!” She seemed surprised by her own answer.

But she was also incorrect, because Jack Sprat and the Terminator suddenly appeared.

She glared at them.

They glared back. Well, the butler dude did. Mr.Benz—Leo remembered his name because he’d wondered if he was related to the fancy car brand. The bigger one whose name Leo did not remember—he suspected he was the princess’s bodyguard—was busy scanning their surroundings.

It seemed that the butler and the princess were having a staring contest. She lost. After she looked away, she allowed herself to be led a few feet away, where the two of them had a short, whispered argument in German. Mr.Benz must have won it. He marched back over to the car and, without speaking to Leo, opened the backseat door and slid in. Marie huffed a defeated little sigh. Leo wasn’t sure why she didn’t just dismiss these dudes like she’d done yesterday, but, hey, not his problem. He was just the chauffeur.

Even though she didn’t have a big poufy gown on, he helped her into the car under the big guy’s watchful eye. After the bodyguard, too, had gotten into the back, Leo turned to Marie. “So, where to, Your Loftiness?” She rolled her eyes but smiled a little, even asthere was a distinct sniff from the back seat. “Erickson’s on Fifth Avenue at East Fifty-Third. It’s a watch shop.”

“But not Philip Gregory’s watch shop.” He probably wasn’t supposed to know about Philip Gregory, but since she was carrying on as if they didn’t have an audience, he was gonna do the same.

Another, louder sniff was issued by the butler. She turned and glared at him.

“Maybe I should have come in the taxi,” he said. “We could have closed the partition.”

“If you”—she pointed over the seat—“are going to insist on being here, I must ask that you remain silent.” Her words were right, but her tone was all wrong, if her aim was to assert her independence. Her voice was soft, and she sounded like she was asking, not telling.

But again, not his concern.

Marie returned to Leo’s question. “Erickson’s is not owned by Philip Gregory. I’m going to spend the morning visiting some of the other retailers that stock our brand. I have appointments at three establishments between now and noon. So that should leave enough cushioning for you to make your two o’clock engagement, I believe?”

“Your Royal Highness,” the butler said, “we have another car. We don’t need to—”

She turned around, looking very much like a mother about to issue anIf you two don’t stop, so help me, I will pull this car overthreat. It was kind of funny the way the two of them seemed to communicate with no words.

---