I Want You for Christmas: The Prince's Lost Princess - a Heartwarming Snow-Capped Holiday Romance (3 page)

THREE

(Adela)

“And now announcing, Signorina Adela Barbarini.”

Adela was frantic as she stared wildly around the backstage area. It was her debutante ball, the single most important day of her life, and he wasn’t here to escort her. He had promised he would, and yet there she stood, alone, about to embarrass herself in front of family, friends, and Italian dignitaries. She fought back tears, desperate not to ruin her makeup and make it even worse.

The announcer cleared his throat. “Ahem. Announcing, Signorina Adela Barbarini!” he repeated, his voice a little forced.

There was nothing to be done for it. Adela squared her shoulders and walked onto the platform by herself, facing a large audience of bewildered faces. As she walked down the stairway to the elaborate ballroom, she stared out in defiance, all the while cursing the name of Prince Luca of Campania. She heard whispers as she approached the bottom step and walked through a parted sea of well-dressed people, most of whom she didn’t know.

“Wasn’t Luca meant to escort her?” a man in the audience whispered.

The woman next to him rolled her eyes. “What do you expect? The Prince is hardly reliable. She should have chosen a better escort.”

“Better than a prince?” the man hissed, and the two of them faced forward and smiled as Adela passed, nodding politely and smiling at her.

Adela tried to ignore the forced sympathy. She imagined she would find her name in the gossip columns tomorrow as the jilted date of a philandering prince. The woman was correct. She had chosen poorly.

Prince Luca was nothing but a cad and a liar, and everyone knew it.

FOUR

(Luca)

“Wake up!”

“What?” Luca mumbled, rolling into his down pillow and burying his face there. Whoever was calling him needed to go away, and fast. He was in no mood for visitors.

“I said wake up, Luca!”

Through the fog of his hangover, Luca realized that the voice pestering him belonged to his mother, who almost never deigned to visit.

Luca tilted his head and cracked open an eyelid, refusing to release his grip on his pillow. His mother stood there with her arms crossed, looking miffed.

“Mother? What on earth are you doing here? I’m sleeping,” Luca groaned.

To Luca’s surprise, his mother gripped the edge of his down comforter and ripped it from the bed, tossing it on the floor.

“Hey!” Luca cried, sitting up and instantly regretting it. He rested his elbows on his knees, cradling his forehead in his hand. He winced as he glanced up at his mother. “What did I do that is deserving of this behavior?” he asked, hoping to get whatever chiding she had over with so he could get back to blissful unconsciousness.

Queen Felicia tapped her perfectly shod foot in annoyance, crossing her arms once again as she glared at him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Luca racked his brain, trying to think. There was a very large pool to choose from, when it came to the category of “What Did Luca Do Wrong Today?”

After a few moments of silence, his mother huffed. “Lady Adela’s coming of age event? That was today. And you were meant to be her escort.”

Luca groaned. His bare chest and legs were turning cold without a blanket, and he reached for a sheet to cover himself. “I’m sorry, I forgot,” he said, shrugging.

Queen Felicia threw her hands up in the air, pacing wildly about the room. “You forgot! Of course, Prince Luca forgets. He is a feeble-minded, simple fool.”

“Hey! That’s not true,” Luca said, his tone hurt.

His parents had been so hard on him, the only child, since he could remember. How could they blame him for wanting to be free, even just a little bit?

Felicia turned to him, her stare filled with daggers. “Is it not? You, who cannot remember a simple appointment that will now ruin a girl’s reputation for years to come. Adela will now struggle to ever find a good suitor, since a prince has publicly stood her up on the most important day of her young life. You are a selfish fool, Luca, and I am ashamed of you today.”

With that, Queen Felicia strode from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Luca winced at the sound. His head was swimming. A moment later, his assistant arrived with a silver tray sporting a glass of cool water and some pain killers.

“For your head, sir,” Luca’s valet, Rinaldo, said.

Luca took the pills and tossed them back, gulping the water until the glass was empty.

“What are the plans for today, Rinaldo?” Luca asked, desperate to busy his mind from the episode that had just occurred. His mother thought very little of him, and sometimes he believed she had the right to do so.

Luca hadn’t exactly been the ideal heir to the title of Prince of Campania. At twenty-seven, he’d been deemed more of an international embarrassment and serial dater of European royalty. He went through princess after princess, dating them for a few weeks or months, before losing them to his wild behavior. It had got especially bad when Princess Ana had caught him drunk on a yacht with several girls, doing things that he would rather not have had published in the National Enquirer.

That was the last royal princess to ever bother with him. Once that story went viral, he had found it impossible to find a relationship with anyone, much less another royal. It was why he had agreed to escort Adela; he’d figured he could meet some debutantes and try that avenue, but on the night, when it came down to it, he’d found he didn’t want to attend some stuffy event with a sixteen-year-old, and he’d gotten drunk with his friends and forgot about it instead.

Maybe his mother was right. He could be quite the fool.

“You have a polo match with your former University of Bologna teammates this afternoon, and your father has asked that you join him and your mother for dinner this evening.”

Luca tried not to wince again. He wasn’t sure if it was the Tuscan light streaming through his windows or the thought of spending the evening with his angry parents that made his head throb, but either way it didn’t feel good.

“There’s one more thing, Your Highness,” Rinaldo said as he approached Luca’s closet and pulled out his polo gear.

“Yes?” Luca said, slowly rising from his king-sized bed and taking the proffered garment from Rinaldo’s hand.

“Giorgio has called. The girl should arrive tomorrow afternoon, if she decides to get on the plane.”

This got Luca’s attention.

“He managed to get her to agree? Fantastic!”

Luca’s plan to find a lost royal had started out almost as a personal conquest. He was angry that no one would associate with him anymore, and it had occurred to him that he might be able to find someone of royal blood who wasn’t yet aware of his reputation. That person might be someone he could enjoy some time with…for a while, anyway. That’s when he found out about the lost house of Galtieri, a long deposed noble bloodline, gone, but evidently not quite forgotten…

“And she bought the whole international relations bit?” Luca asked.

Rinaldo nodded. “She did. The email logo was a nice touch, if I do say so myself, sir.”

Luca grinned. “Gabriella Galtieri. My God, she has no idea who she might really be. And she’s an American!”

The thought of spending time with an American was an appealing one to Luca. The Americans he had met during his university years had been boisterous and noisy and fun. He had liked them a lot. They didn’t care about status or titles—to them, everyone was equal. It was an interesting concept to Luca, coming from a world of hierarchies and status. The Americans did still value wealth, however, and he had found that many of his ‘friends’ disappeared the minute he stopped offering to buy all the drinks or fly them out to exotic locales.

Such was life.

But this Gabriella. She was the only Galtieri he could find that wasn’t ancient or already married. She was younger than him by four years, but that didn’t matter. He was sure she would be interesting company, and he was intrigued to learn more about this possible royal, who likely had no idea who she could be. His research was still inconclusive there.

Yes, mother. I can do research. Perhaps I’m not that much of a fool after all,
Luca thought as he pulled his polo pants up and wriggled into black riding boots.

His olive skin was a little pale from his hangover, but it in no way detracted from his strong physique and confident posture. Luca could wear a hangover as good as any other noble, and he would do so today.

“Rinaldo, tell Giorgio he has my thanks, and that a large bonus will be on the table if he is able to get her on a plane out to me.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Luca took one last gulp of water before exiting his room. Tomorrow he would meet Gabriella Galtieri. What an interesting day that would be!

FIVE

Gaby

Gaby lay in her single bed, her eyes wide open despite the lateness of the hour.

Since going to bed, she had wavered between going to Florence and staying at home at least six times each. It was an impossible decision, and one she had no time to think about. What if she was kidnapped? What if this was all an elaborate ruse? Gaby read the news. She knew how scary the world really was.

Was it worth the risk?

On the other hand, it was the opportunity of a lifetime. A free trip to Florence, all expenses paid? Who got an offer like that and turned it down? Was she being foolish? Sheltered? All she ever talked about was getting out and seeing the world. Was she really just going to let herself talk, and take no action?

Gaby leapt from her bed, her bare feet padding along the cold wooden floors. She would do this. She would not back out. If this was her destiny, then she could not afford to shy away from what the world may still have to offer her.

She pulled out a small backpack and threw in a few pairs of jeans and long-sleeved shirts. Gaby didn’t really know what the weather was like in Florence, but she assumed it was much milder than in New York. A jacket on top would likely be enough to keep her warm.

Satisfied with her little bag, she crawled underneath her worn quilt and snuggled into her pillow. She would decide what to do tomorrow—if the car even showed up after her shift. Until then, she would try and get some sleep.

***

Before she knew it, Gaby was blinking against the sunlight of morning.

“Gabriella!” her mother called up the stairs. “It’s time to get up! We have prep to do!”

“Coming, Mama,” Gaby said, her voice weary. She hadn’t gotten much sleep, and when she glanced at her packed bag in the corner, her stomach gave a little leap. Today she could be leaving for an amazing vacation—a break. She hadn’t had one of those in years.

Wiping the thought from her mind, Gaby dressed and brushed her teeth in the small bathroom across the hall before heading down to the kitchen and donning an apron.

“I need you to start making the pasta,” Gina said, already busy shaping meatballs in the corner.

“Yes, Mama,” Gaby said, and just like that, her day had begun.

To say it was the day after Thanksgiving, Il Lupo was surprisingly busy. People were coming in loaded with bags full of Black Friday purchases, laughing and opening their new toys. Gaby was grateful for the rush of people. It kept her busy enough to not think about the car that would be coming for her. Or would it?

“Gaby, you are insane.” Rosalie, a petite blonde that was Gaby’s oldest childhood friend, was filling a glass with coke as she peeked over the bar at her. “You cannot really be considering staying in New York when you could be in Florence! That’s nuts!”

“Table nine needs more bread sticks,” Gaby said flatly, and Rosalie grabbed a basket, rolling buttery garlic bread sticks into a white cloth and placing them on her tray to take out.

“Change the subject all you like, but if I were you, I’d be way more excited about this!”

“And yet somehow we’ve remained friends all these years, in spite of our differences,” Gaby replied with a grin.

Rosalie stuck her tongue out at Gaby before exiting the kitchen, her large tray balanced precariously on her small shoulder. Compared to the Galtieris, Rosalie was a tiny little thing. Her size and quiet nature with the customers created a calming balance in the restaurant that customers seemed to enjoy, which made Gaby’s parents all the happier to keep Rosalie around.

Table after table came and went, with people in a jovial mood as the holiday season went into full swing. New York was the perfect place to spend Christmas. The windows of the restaurant were decorated with elaborate paintings of Christmas scenes and winter themes. Every corner smelled like freshly baked cookies and warm cocoa as passers-by strolled past in their winter coats, enjoying the levity of the season. Gaby enjoyed the wonderful energy of it as each new group came in to enjoy their food.

When she glanced at her watch some time later, she was surprised to see that it was already a quarter to nine. The last table was finishing up their meal, and Rosalie brought their check, reminding them to take their time.

When she met Gaby back in the kitchen, she pulled a wad of cash from her apron. “Not a bad day, if I do say so myself,” Rosalie said, counting her tips.

Gaby pulled out her own wad and began counting. That day they’d each made about two hundred dollars. Not bad, indeed.

The door jingled, signaling the arrival of another customer.

“You got this one?” Rosalie asked, wiping her brow.

It had been a very long shift, but the money was good, and it was nice to watch families enjoy their time together over a meal.

Gaby nodded, squaring her shoulders and pasting her waitress smile on as she exited the kitchen and moved to greet the new party.

“How many today…” she began, launching into her usual questions and stopping short.

The man standing in the doorway wore a smart driver’s uniform under a clean black jacket. He stood straight and tall.

“I’m here to pick up Gabriella Galtieri, miss,” he said, with a slight accent.

Gaby’s heart fluttered, and she panicked. “I am Gaby Galtieri, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to accompany you. I have to stay here and work, you see—”

“Oh no you don’t,” Rosalie said, sneaking up from behind and grasping her friend’s hand. “The restaurant will be just fine for a couple of days without you, Gaby. Go get your bag. I know you packed already.”

Gaby stared down into her friend’s warm, blue-eyed gaze. Her own eyes were wild with repressed panic.

Rosalie gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Go have an adventure, Gaby. Who knows how many you’ll get offered? Do you really want to regret not taking this chance?”

Gaby hesitated, thinking. Then she threw her arms around her friend and held on tight.

“If I’m murdered, I’m going to haunt you forever.”

Rosalie scoffed. “You’re not getting murdered. If anything, you’ll gain a few pounds gorging on pasta and gelato. Now go!”

Gaby grinned as she flew up the back stairs and grabbed her backpack. She had gotten her a passport a few years earlier when she’d considered a study abroad program during college, but had chickened out at the last minute. Rosalie was right—it was something she had regretted. This time she would take a chance, and see where it went.

She threw off her apron and changed into a pair of jeans, a plaid shirt, and her coat. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, her parents were waiting for her. Her mother’s eyes were watery.

“Have fun, baby girl, and look out for yourself, eh?” Gaby’s father said, wrapping her in a fierce hug. Gaby hugged him back just as tightly. She then hugged her mother, who was oddly stiff.

“I want a phone call from you the minute you land, understood? Keep us posted so that we know you’re safe,” Gina said, her voice tight.

“I will,” Gaby promised. She smiled, her eyes watering slightly; her mother seemed so tough on the outside, but Gaby knew she was filled with worry and love for her. She was one strong Italian mama.

Heading back out to the dining area, Gaby hugged Rosalie one last time before nodding to the driver, and they headed out the door. The car that was waiting for her was a sleek black Mercedes.

“This is our car?” Gaby asked, breathless.

The driver nodded. “Yes, miss. May I take your bag?”

Gaby handed the man her beaten old backpack, feeling inadequate as she slid into the soft leather seats in the back of the vehicle. Classical music played on the radio as the driver closed the car’s trunk and slid back into the driver’s seat, pulling away from the curb.

The chauffeur drove in silence, and Gaby stared out the window as the car left Queens and headed towards Manhattan. Gaby assumed that they would be flying out of JFK, but the road for that airport passed them by as the driver continued onward. Gaby’s stomach clenched.

“Where are we flying out of?” she asked, hoping against hope she hadn’t just gotten herself into a scary situation.

“Teterboro, Miss.”

“I’ve never heard of that airport,” she said, trying to sound calm.

“It’s a private airport. Your accommodations are more than adequate, I assure you, Miss Galtieri.”

Gaby pulled out her phone and immediately looked up Teterboro airport. To her surprise and relief, it was a real place. In fact, it was an airport designed solely for private jets. For the millionth time in the past day, she wondered just what she’d gotten herself into.

The car pulled into the small airport. Sleek private jets were parked along the tarmac, all beneath the glow of a large white terminal building. Gaby’s driver parked and exited the car, opening the trunk as Gaby got out and accepted the proffered backpack from him.

He stared at her for a moment as she stood still. “Can I help you with anything else, miss?” he asked.

He was shorter than Gaby, which wasn’t unusual; she tried not to frown as she looked down at him. “I’m not sure where to go,” she answered, glancing around hesitantly.

The man nodded. “Right this way, miss.”

Gaby followed her driver to the small terminal, where she was led to a kiosk. A brunette woman with a cleanly combed ponytail smiled across the counter at her. “Good evening, ma’am. How can I assist you tonight?”

“My name is Gaby Galtieri—”

“Ah, Miss Galtieri! We’ve been expecting you. I will let your pilot know you have arrived. He should be ready for takeoff within thirty minutes.”

“Okay…” Gaby said, unsure of what else to say.

“Please feel free to take a seat in our lounge while you wait. You’ll find some tea and coffee available, if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” Gaby said, smiling at the woman and turning to her driver.

“And thank you for helping me.”

The driver nodded. “A pleasure, miss. Have a wonderful evening,” he said before turning on his heel and heading back to his car.

Gaby walked over to a small, chic little waiting area. The sofas were soft and plush, and a Keurig coffee machine was perched on a marble-topped table, accompanied by a rack of a wide assortment of teas and flavored hot chocolates. Gaby was about to choose a nice chamomile when a pilot approached the seating area with an outstretched hand.

“Signorina Galtieri? I am your pilot, Giacomo Bambini. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Gaby shook the man’s hand. He was older, and definitely Italian. His hair was black with streaks of distinguished gray, and his face was no less handsome for being aged. He wore a kind expression, and Gaby found that she liked him instantly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Gaby said with a warm smile.

“We’re just about ready for takeoff, if you would you like to board, miss? Weather conditions are good, so we should make excellent time.”

“I would, thank you.”

Giacomo released Gaby’s hand before leading her out of the terminal and onto the cool tarmac. Gaby could see her breath in the air in front of her, and she looked forward to the warmth of the plane. When Giacomo stopped in front of a white jet, Gaby’s breath caught in her throat.

The plane was stunning. Was the Italian government really treating her to such an experience? If they wanted better U.S. relations, this was certainly a good way to do it.

Giacomo gestured to the open cabin door. “Please head on in, Miss Galtieri. I’ll just finish my final checks, and once we’re clear we can take off right away.”

“Thanks again,” Gaby said gratefully, taking the steps one at a time as she held carefully onto the railing.

When she got inside, she allowed herself a full-on gasp. The interior of the airplane was stunning. The seats were a cream-colored leather, and there was a small bar stocked with gourmet cheeses, crackers and small bottles of wine.

Gaby took a seat in one of the chairs, tossing her bag on the seat next to her. She still smelled like the restaurant, and regretted not having the time to take a shower.

Moments later, Giacomo poked his head back from the pilot’s area. “We’re ready to take off! If you feel sleepy during the flight, the side button there will recline your seat into a bed.”

“Wow, really?” Gaby asked, and Giacomo laughed.

“Really, really. Now sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride!”

Gaby grinned at the pilot as his head disappeared, and seconds later the engine rumbled into life. The plane lurched forward, engines blazing as the wheels lost contact with the tarmac and the jet rose into the air. Gaby watched as the lights of New York City glittered beneath her, before disappearing behind them.

Pressing the button down, she stretched as her seat not only reclined all the way back, but also folded outwards, creating a perfect little bed. It was extremely comfortable, and Gaby yawned, still exhausted from her restless sleep the night before. She found a cashmere blanket in a small drawer beneath her chair, covered herself up and snuggled into her little bed. It didn’t take long before she fell fast asleep.