Page 100 of A Princess for Christmas

He’d been going to say,Sell off their children, but what was thepoint? Leo already knew these people were different than he was. He’d been reminded in a thousand little ways since he got here.

And more to the point, why the fuck did he care? Because he wasn’t going to get his stupid springtime in New York with the princess? It was always going to end at some point. As Dani said, better to end things now, before he got hurt.

Except it was too late, wasn’t it? He was already hurt. So much that, apparently, his lungs had stopped working. He was literally panting now. It felt like his chest was being punctured by a million tiny needles.

He had fucked this up big-time. He’d let this woman get to him.

He’d flown across an ocean and eaten excruciating five-course meals. He had endured passive-aggressive abuse from her father—like Dani used to have to do with her in-laws. And he wasn’t even married to Marie—or engaged to her. He’d done that partvoluntarily.

He’d built a fucking log cabin for her.

“We’re going to use a turkey baster if it comes down to it,” Max said, and oh fuck, Leo doubled over.

“Max!” Marie whisper-shouted.

“What?” Max protested. “I’m trying to say that if we can’t avert this, you guys can come to some sort of arrangement. I’m certainly not going to get in your way. That’s always been the plan, hasn’t it? We do what we want on the side?”

Oh god, they were talking about making him a royal mistress. A master? Whatever. Nofuckingway.

But good, actually. That additional little bit of info was enough to tip him from hurt toangry. Toroyally fucking pissed, actually.

He didn’t know what had happened with him and Marie, buthe did know that he was never going to be her dirty secret on the side while she was married to someone else. Leo didn’t consider himself a practicing Catholic. But he still believed in enough of that shit to know that when you stood in front of a church—or a judge or whatever—and vowed to love and honor someone,that was what you did.

So, no. He was done here, even though it hurt like hell—which made him madder than he otherwise would have been because it wasn’tsupposedto hurt. It was supposed to be a vacation fling. A “surprisingly refreshing break from reality.” The anger was growing, eclipsing the hurt. It was allowing him to finally breathe. Leo straightened, let the air saturate his lungs for a few breaths, and looked Marie in the eyes. Hardened himself to the pain he saw there and said, “It was always going to end anyway.”

It looked for a moment like her face was going to crumple, but she got control of herself, lifted her chin, and said, “Right.”

He should have left then, but that prissy princess chin-lifting, directed athim, pissed him right off. He wasn’t standing for that shit. “You should have told me,” he said again, but this time it came out properly. Like the angry accusation it was. For fuck’s sake, they had lain in bed and bared their goddamn souls to each other—he’d thought. He’d told her about maybe wanting to go back to school, and she’d told him about her mother. She’d told him that he was the only person who saw the real her.

“Yes,” Marie agreed, “I should have told you.” Her face did crumple then.

“I’m going to take Gabby to Cocoa Fest now.” Leo spoke to the side of her head—she’d turned it away in what he was pretty sure was shame. “She’ll want to watch you get ready for the balltonight if you’re still willing.” He didn’t have it in him to deny the ball-obsessed Gabby that. Marie gave a little nod. “We’ll be out of your hair tomorrow morning.” They were scheduled to leave midday on the twenty-sixth but no way were they staying that long. He would go back to his room now and book flights for tomorrow morning. And a car to get them to the nearest airport. It would probably cost all of the fifteen grand he’d earned from his driving gig, but that was fine. Suddenly he wanted more than anything to wash his hands of all this. To be left with nothing that reminded him of her. To have none of her blood money left.

“You can’t leave on Christmas,” she protested weakly.

“I can, though,” he said, not unkindly but forcefully. “I can do whatever I want.”

She burst into tears, and he turned and fled before he did, too.

Chapter Twenty

Cocoa Fest really was something, Leo had to admit. He and Gabby walked the palace grounds sampling peppermint cocoa and black cherry cocoa and Nutella cocoa and Gabby’s own butterscotch s’mores cocoa. Each flavor really was served out of a giant cauldron manned by a member of the palace staff—Gabby’s featured a sign that credited her as the “chef”—and there were tables set up with elaborate toppings ranging from homemade marshmallow fluff to candied orange rinds to half a dozen flavors of whipped cream. It was all so extravagant that Gabby didn’t notice Leo was not himself. He managed to walk around and nod at the right times and generally act like a person whose heart had not been splintered into a million pieces a few hours ago.

He was relieved when, after doing a lap of the festivities, Gabby agreed to his suggestion that they walk down the hill and see what was going on in the village. He’d seen Marie and the king and Max walking around the grounds with an older couple he could only assume was the duke and duchess and a poshly dressed guy who looked a little like Max. That was probably Marie’s futurebrother-in-law. Leo didn’t want to see any of them. He didn’t trust himself to see Marie again and not lose his shit.

The village square was abuzz with carnival games and ice skaters. The aroma of roasted nuts wafted through the chilled air, joining the smell of hot chocolate emanating from stands that were selling it out of more traditional urns than the palace cauldrons. It was snowing gently, the fat, white flakes making the whole scene look like a movie set. It was the Hallmark movie he’d teased Marie about, except he was pretty sure Hallmark movies didn’t end in heartbreak and ruin. Of course, they also didn’t feature as much fucking as had happened the past few days, so clearly he was on the wrong channel.

“Gabby!” It was Imogen’s niece from the pub, along with a couple of younger boys Leo didn’t recognize. “You want to come skating with us?”

Gabby introduced him. They turned out to be Imogen’s nephews, whom Gabby had met on the hayride a couple days ago. “Can I, Leo?”

“Sure, kiddo.” He handed her a few euros, and she ran off to the skate-rental stand. He looked around for a place to sit and watch and spied Imogen working a booth out front of her bar.

“Hello!” she called as he approached. “Can I interest you in some hot buttered cocoa?”

“Sure.” She had set up a small outdoor wooden bar complete with stools, so he collected his mug and went to sit on one. He watched her hand off cocoa-serving duties to someone else and make her way over to him.

“Gabby and I are heading home tomorrow.” He hoped. He was a little worried about the forecast: this snow was not supposed to stop anytime soon. “Thanks for all the hospitality while we were here.”

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