Christmas in His Royal Bed / Rossellini's Revenge Affair: Christmas in His Royal Bed / Rossellini's Revenge Affair. Yvonne Lindsay
are the children?” Alandra asked, scanning the open space, with its center stairwell leading to the upper floor.
“The older ones are in school, of course, and the younger ones are upstairs in the nursery. Would you like to meet them?”
“I’d love to,” she answered.
She followed Mrs. Vincenza up to the second floor, with Nicolas behind them.
They toured the nursery, where Alandra played with the babies and toddlers for a bit, then met a few other members of the staff. From there, Mrs. Vincenza showed them the children’s bedrooms, dining hall, playroom and reception area.
The reception area, Alandra realized as soon as she saw it, would be the perfect place to set up the Santa Claus event. It was large enough for all the children, the media and any number of guests they might invite. There was even a lovely tree already set up and decorated in the far corner.
She jotted down notes as fast as she could, her mind racing ahead to everything that would need to be done. At the same time, she shared her plans with Mrs. Vincenza, whose eyes lit up at the prospect. Behind them, standing tall and straight in the doorway, Nicolas listened silently. Alandra as sumed that meant he approved of the project so far. She was certain he’d let her know if he objected to anything.
An hour later, she’d finalized the initial plans with the administrator and had a list of tasks to deal with herself. After thanking the woman for her time and enthusiasm, she and Nicolas made their way back outside, through the throng of reporters still hovering on the sidewalk, and into the backseat of the waiting car.
The vehicle had barely started rolling away from the curb before Nicolas faced her and asked, “How do you feel it went?”
“Very well,” she answered, flipping through the pages of her spiral pad and reviewing some of the notations she’d made. “Mrs. Vincenza is eager to help us because she knows it will ultimately help her, and even though there’s a lot of work to do, I think we’ve got enough time to set everything up so it goes smoothly.”
A small smile touched his lips. “I have to admit, I was quite impressed with what you said to her. You’re very good at describing your visions so that others can see them clearly.”
Her cheeks flushed with pleasure at his compliment and she nodded a silent thank-you.
“Allow me to buy you lunch at one of our local eateries to show my appreciation for all your hard work. We can discuss what else needs to be done to have everything ready by the week before Christmas.”
Although she was starting to feel hungry and certainly could have used a bite to eat, she didn’t think it was a good idea to spend any more time with him than absolutely necessary. It would be better to go back to the palace and ask for something to be sent to her rooms, where she could hide out and get some work done away from Nicolas.
Without meeting his gaze, she said, “Thank you, but no. I’d prefer to go back and get straight to work.”
His eyes narrowed slightly at her refusal, and she almost expected him to argue. But then he turned to look forward and said, “Very well. You should remember one thing, however.”
“What’s that?”
His eyes returned to hers, bright blue and blazing. “You can’t avoid me forever.”
Six
For the third time in ten minutes, Nicolas checked his watch. He was standing at the bottom of the main stairwell, awaiting Alandra’s arrival, while everyone else was gathered in the dining room, ready for dinner.
But the minutes continued to tick by, and still there was no sign of her.
Spotting a maid leaving the dining room, he motioned her over. “Would you please run up to Miss Sanchez’s room and find out why she’s running late for dinner?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but she called down earlier to make her excuses and ask for a tray to be brought to her room.”
“Is she ill?” he asked, his brows knitting with genuine concern.
“I’m not sure, sir. She didn’t say so.”
“Thank you,” he said, nodding to dismiss the maid.
As soon as the maid disappeared around the corner, he turned and started up the stairs. Minutes later, he was knocking on Alandra’s door.
He heard her call that she was coming, and then the door swung open. She was standing there in a short, turquoise-blue nightgown and a matching robe in some slinky material that made his mouth go instantly dry. Her hair was pulled up and twisted into a loose knot at the crown of her head.
Her lovely chocolate-brown eyes went wide with surprise for a second before narrowing with annoyance.
Noticing that his gaze was inexorably drawn to the shadowed valley between her breasts, she raised a hand to close the edges of her robe.
“May I help you?” she asked in a tone that surely wasn’t often directed toward someone of royal lineage.
Biting back his amusement, he kept a straight face and linked his hands behind him. “I heard you weren’t coming down to dinner and wanted to make sure you were feeling well. Is everything all right?”
Her expression softened at his inquiry. “I’m fine, thank you. I just decided to have my meal in my room so I could continue to work.”
“You’ve been working since we returned from the children’s home,” he said, more of a statement than a question.
“That is why you hired me,” she replied with a tiny smile.
Her grip on the front of her robe loosened and he caught another quick glimpse of cleavage. His body immediately went tight and hot.
Clearing his throat, he struggled to make his brain work past the thought of stripping her bare and having her writhing beneath him. When he couldn’t seem to manage that, he gave a curt nod and headed back the way he’d come.
It took him the full length of both hallways and the staircase to regain his reason and decide on a course of action.
First, he strode into the dining room, where the rest of the family had already been served, and told them he wouldn’t be sharing dinner with them. Then he went to the rear of the palace and entered the kitchens, asking that two trays be made up and taken to Alandra’s suite rather than only one.
He waited while that was done, and then accompanied the servant as the young man delivered the cart. Alandra answered the door when he knocked, a frown marring her brow when she noticed Nicolas trailing behind. To her credit, she held her tongue as the cart was wheeled into the center of the sitting room.
Glancing toward Nicolas, the servant waited to be told where they wished their meals to be served.
“That’s fine, Franc. I’ll take it from here. Thank you.”
The young man inclined his head and quickly made his way from the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Nicolas and Alandra alone.
Her gaze skated from the cart, with its silver-domed platters and bottle of wine, to him. “You’re not planning on eating with me?” she asked, not bothering with even a modicum of civility as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and tapped the red-tipped toes of one bare foot impatiently.
“We have a lot to do, as you’ve said, and I agree that taking dinner in your rooms is a good way to make rapid progress. We’ll eat on the balcony,” he added, pulling the cart out onto the terrace. “You’ll like it out there. Bring some of your files, if you like, and we can discuss them while we eat.”
She didn’t say anything, but he wouldn’t have stopped if she had. Giving her the chance to respond was only inviting a refusal, and he had no intention of being put off.
She followed him to the French doors, still without uttering a