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“I will.”
“Who do you dress up as Santa for?”
As the words leave my mouth, I have a terrible image of it being some weird sexy thing he does with some girl, and I immediately backtrack.
“Actually, don't tell me. I don't want to know.”
“I would be happy to tell you.” His smile does weird things to me.
Things I ignore.
“For the last few years, I’ve been Father Christmas for the children’s charity I support.”
I snort laugh. “Sure, you have.” Prince McHottie wearing a Santa costume for a bunch of kids? So likely.
“Is it so hard to believe?” he asks, his dark eyes trained on me.
I slide my gaze from his. “I was told Princess Amelia was attending,” I reply, changing the subject away from thinking of Alexander being nice to kids. Which I’m certain is an outright lie, anyway.
“My dear sister has returned to Ledonia along with the other members of my family,” he replies. “I'm afraid we'll need to put up with one another for a week or two.”
My jaw drops open. A week or two of Prince Alexander, the man I would vote most likely to make me run for the hills?
The Universe and I are definitely in a fight.
“Awesome,” I reply brightly. “I hope you enjoy your stay here in Malveaux. I’m super busy, though, so this might be the only chance we get to hang out.”
“I assure you it won't be,” he replies, his lips curving into that knee-weakening smile of his.
Not that it weakens my knees whatsoever. Nope. My knees are firm. Firm and solid. There will be no weakening where I’m concerned. Rock hard knees.
“We will be ‘hanging out’ every day.” He uses air quotes to mock me, because he’s that much of a nice guy.
“No, we won’t.”
“Yes, we will.”
I shake my head. “I’ve got a lot going on.”
“I know. Your press secretary has already been in touch with your schedule.”
I have a press secretary?
I eye him cautiously and see he’s still smiling at me as though this is a great idea. But surely he’s not happy about this? I bet I’m the last person he would want to spend any time with after our whole meet un-cute last night.
“Have you become my new stalker?” I question.
“Do you make it a habit to always have a stalker, princess?”
What kind of question is that?
“I’m just making light of the situation.” I lean closer to him so only he can hear, and I catch a hint of his scent. It reignites that dang electricity and I’m forced to perform another swift unplug. “I’m sure you’re about as happy about this as am I.”
“Follow me, your Royal Highnesses,” Ralph says, and I take the opportunity to walk away from Alexander.
But he’s a slippery eel, and before long, he’s back beside me.
“How have you been since the ball?” he asks.
