A Prince For Christmas. Rebecca Winters
down next to Sonia. “Sweetheart? Guess what I’ve just found out?”
“What?” Sonia asked breathlessly, almost falling off the chair she was so excited.
“Princess Maren is ready to have a baby.”
“A baby—” Sonia’s eyes widened. “You mean right here?”
“No, sweetheart. She’ll have it at the hospital, but for the moment she’s home in bed.”
“Is she sick?”
“No. But the doctor wants her to rest until the baby comes.”
“Are we going to the palace to see her then?”
Kristin hugged her, praying for some inspiration. “I’m afraid not, but she has sent someone else to meet you.”
Sonia’s lower lip started to tremble. Not a good sign.
“I don’t want to meet anybody else!”
“Not even her brother?”
“He’s not a princess—” she blurted in a tear-filled voice that could probably be heard beyond the confines of the back room.
Kristin moaned inwardly. “I know, sweetheart, but her brother is a prince and a very special person. His name is Prince Eric. He’s as famous as his sister.”
Except that infamous was probably more like it.
Over the years Kristin had seen pictures of the handsome royal family on television and in magazines, as well as in the Cultural Exchange’s own newspaper. It was in one of their editions that the Chocolate Barn’s contest had been advertised with the promise of the winner being able to meet Princess Maren.
Her brother, Prince Eric, was even better looking than his elder brother who was now king. The eligible playboy prince appeared more often in the news than the rest of his family. He’d been linked with the great beauties of Europe, and was reputed to have broken many hearts.
“But I want to meet the Princess!” Sonia cried loud enough for everyone in the entire store to hear her.
“I know you do, but this can’t be helped. Remember how Grandpa Elling couldn’t come with us because he’s been sick? Well it’s the same thing with the Princess.”
“But she’s not sick. She just has to rest,” Sonia reasoned in her child’s mind before she broke down sobbing and clung to Kristin. “Please can’t we call the Princess on the phone?” she begged, totally out of control.
“If you tell her how much I want to meet her, she’ll let me come. I know she will.”
Tears streamed down her blotchy cheeks, panicking Kristin who hadn’t seen her niece like this since she’d awakened in the hospital to learn that her parents had gone to heaven.
“I p-promise not to make any n-noise or do a-anything wrong, Aunty Kristin. I’ll be s-so good. T-tell her I’ll be g-good.”
Sonia’s hysteria stemmed from a lot more than disappointment that she wouldn’t be meeting a real live princess. She was still too fragile after losing her mother and father.
Kristin was frantic because a member of the royal family along with television crews and photographers were waiting in the store for the appearance of the lucky little girl who’d won the Chocolate Barn’s contest.
This was turning into a nightmare!
“Maybe I can help,” said a low compelling male voice in English with only the slightest trace of accent.
CHAPTER TWO
KRISTIN turned her head in the direction of the door. The second her light blue eyes caught sight of the Prince, resplendent in ceremonial dress, she let out a surprised gasp and stood up.
His coloring was similar to Sonia’s, in that he had dark brown hair and eyes. Tall and powerfully built like his brother and father, he stood six feet two or three, and possessed an aristocratic bearing.
Dressed in dark blue with the wide royal red band crossing his broad chest from shoulder to hip, Kristin’s niece would be awestruck if she could see him.
While Kristin studied him, she discovered that he was studying her just as thoroughly.
His gaze wandered over her face and figure with unmistakable male interest. She swallowed hard before averting her eyes.
In the next instant he moved toward them and hunkered down next to Sonia who was sobbing harder than ever and refused to be comforted.
“I understand you’re called Sonia,” he began. “So you’re the girl who came all the way from America to meet my sister.”
His words produced another paroxysm of tears.
Kristin noticed the play of hard muscle beneath his suit jacket. She could tell he was striving to come up with a different approach to an impossible situation.
“My name is Eric. Do you think you could stop crying long enough to talk to me for a minute?”
She rubbed her knuckles against her wet eyes. “I—I don’t want to talk to a-anybody ‘cept the P-princess.”
“I know exactly how you feel. When I was a little boy and very upset about something, I always ran to my sister to talk to her because she’s my best friend and the kindest person I know. Do you have a younger brother?”
“No.” Sonia hiccuped. “My m-mommy and daddy died before they could g-give me one.”
Kristin felt the Prince digest those words. She had the grace to feel sorry for the royal bachelor playboy who she figured had never been forced to deal with a crisis quite like this before.
“My sister asked me to come in her place because she couldn’t. I know you wanted to meet a real princess, but I am her brother.” He wiped some of the moisture off her cheeks. “Will a prince do for today?”
No woman young or old could be immune to that humble yet compelling male entreaty, not even Sonia, who finally lifted her tear-ravaged face to him.
“D-do you h-have your c-crown on?” she asked in a tremulous voice.
The Prince’s intelligent gaze swerved to Kristin’s in distinct puzzlement. At this point she realized everything had fallen apart before Mrs. Severeid had found the time to tell him about Sonia’s condition.
“My niece is blind,” Kristin tapped him on the shoulder and silently mouthed the words.
Their eyes held for endless moments while he absorbed the tragic revelation. As he continued to stare at Kristin, his expression underwent a dramatic transformation. Lines of incredulity darkened his features, making him appear older.
His dark brown eyes looked pained before they settled on Sonia once more. Strong masculine hands reached out to grasp her niece’s little fingers in his.
“I didn’t have time to put it on,” he said in a solemn tone.
“H-how come?” Sonia wanted to know. Small tremors shook her body, but miracle of miracles, her hysterics were subsiding.
“Because it’s in another town.”
“Where?”
“At a cathedral in Midgard with some other family crowns.”
“How come? If I had a crown, I’d put it in my room on the dresser.”
Kristin’s eyes closed tightly. The “how comes?” had started, and now there’d be no end to them.
“My crown’s too heavy to wear all the time, so I keep it locked up in the church where it will be safe.”
“Does it hurt your head?”
She sounded so concerned about that, the Prince flashed Kristin an intimate smile in spite of his shock