I Want You for Christmas: The Prince's Lost Princess - a Heartwarming Snow-Capped Holiday Romance (6 page)

Gaby frowned. Would she ever find the time? Having a moment to do nothing but think, she realized just how much of her life she wasn’t living. She was working it away, and for what? So that when her parents passed on she could work until her dying day, just like them?

Sighing, Gaby replaced the book she was holding and opened her backpack, digging out a pair of jeans and a boat neck shirt and laying them out on her bed. She kicked off her shoes and socks and walked over to the bathroom, where she stood and faced a large, circular mirror.

The bathroom lighting was muted and flattering, but even still, Gaby looked like a mess. She blushed in the mirror as she realized she’d had lunch with Luca with her hair askew and her clothes wrinkled beyond saving.

What had he thought of her? A prince, who was likely always pressed and clean, having lunch with a dirty little New Yorker? Still, while Gaby had originally thought him pompous, he had proven himself to be quite the gentleman as he’d escorted her around the house and enjoyed a meal with her on the terrace. There was more to Luca Campania than met the eyes, and Gaby found herself wanting to dig deeper and see who that man was.

Deciding to bask for a moment in the lavishness of her trip, Gaby turned on the faucet to the enormous bathtub. In a cream-colored cabinet she found bath oils and bubble bath, and she poured some in, the suds rising as she stripped down and released her hair from its messy ponytail.

Dipping a toe into the steaming water, Gaby sank all the way in, releasing a groan of pleasure as she lay back against the side of the tub and allowed her stiff muscles to loosen.

After a long while of lounging in the tub, Gaby stepped out and found a comfortable cotton robe in another side closet, donning it and flinging herself onto her enormous bed. The doorway to her balcony glittered as the setting sun sank, blues and purples cascading across the sky. Gaby found herself laughing at the wildness of it all. What would her parents say, seeing such a place? That it was too much? Too ostentatious? Too wonderful?

It was certainly all of the above, and more. With a wide grin, Gaby realized it was a lifestyle she could very much get used to.

NINE

Gaby was just finishing curling her hair when there was a knock at the door.

She told herself that she was doing her hair and makeup because she was in a mansion, and because she wanted to present herself accordingly. She did not want to admit that she was looking forward to seeing Luca’s reaction to said changes.

She opened the door, expecting to see him there, but was instead met by a petite female housekeeper.

“Buona sera, signorina,” the young woman said, making a small curtsy. “His Highness has asked me to guide you to the dining room, so you will not get lost.”

“Thank you,” Gaby said, hiding her disappointment.

Why was she so keen to see Luca, anyway? He was a short-term friend, her host for a brief vacation before she got back to the stresses and regularities of life.

Gaby and the housekeeper walked in comfortable silence down the twists and turns of the hallways until they reached the main hall and the opening to the grand dining room.

There, Luca sat alone at a long table meant for so many more. When he heard them coming, he looked up and smiled. “Gaby! Did you get some rest?”

His eyes were bright as he watched her approach, walking past chair after empty chair. When she reached him, she smiled back. Luca nodded to the housekeeper who had escorted her, and she made her exit. He pulled out a chair on one side of the table, pushing it back in as Gaby sat down. Then he took the seat across from her.

“I did, thank you. The lodgings are the best I’ve ever had,” she said.

Luca beamed. “I should hope so! I would like you to enjoy your time here with us, Gaby. It’s the least I can do.”

Gaby glanced down the length of the table. “Will we be dining alone tonight?”

Luca shifted in his seat, glancing down. “We will, I’m afraid. My parents would have joined us, but my father has been called out of town on a dignitary trip, and my mother…well, she’s not my biggest fan right now.”

“Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good,” Gaby said.

Luca’s smile was tight as he looked back up at her, but before he could answer the waiting service arrived, and their first course, a steaming vegetable soup, was served. As the courses kept coming, Gaby and Luca talked about their shared interest in politics and international relations. They discussed cultural differences between the U.S. and Italy, and Luca told Gaby all about his adventures in America.

“And why does everyone wear sneakers everywhere? They’re not at the gym… though many of them should be!” he laughed before taking a sip of wine. Tonight it was another white wine to pair with a light filet of fish. It was delicious, and Gaby found herself wishing for more at the end of dessert, which was a light, creamy gelato.

“We like to be comfortable,” Gaby said. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Luca stared at her as though she were a puzzle he was desperately trying to solve. “No, I guess there isn’t, is there?”

On the mantel, an antique clock began to chime, indicating that it was somehow already ten o’clock.

Gaby stifled a yawn. “It’s late,” she said sleepily.

Luca nodded, taking the cue. “You must be exhausted.”

Gaby nodded. Full of food, her jetlagged body was crying out for sleep—even though it wasn’t even dinner time back home.

“May I escort you to your room?” Luca asked.

Gaby’s heart fluttered, but she hid her excitement. What was there to be excited about? Just a friend escorting another friend to said friend’s room. No big deal, right?

Gaby stood and fell in step with Luca as they strolled back down the hallway. Before she knew it they were at her door, and she suddenly felt like she was at the end of a really good date.

When she turned to Luca, her eyes darted to his lips, but she quickly looked away. After so much wine, his mouth looked far too tempting to resist, and she didn’t want to do something foolish.

“Goodnight,” she said, keeping her smile friendly.

Luca’s eyes were intense as he gazed down at her. She loved how tall he was. How deep his eyes were. And that mouth… there it was again.

“Buona notte,” he said, lifting her hand and kissing it with his perfect lips, the sensation burning her skin even has he released her fingers and stepped back away from the door.

Gaby smiled at him one more time before turning and closing the door behind her. She feared that if she gazed at him just a second longer she would have to throw herself into his arms and kiss him, and she knew that would be a terrible idea.

Yes, absolutely terrible.

Gazing around the room, Gaby noticed a distinct lack of technology. The best she could do to entertain herself was read Italian books, or play on her phone. Pulling it out, she saw a text from her mother that she had forgotten to respond to.

Hope you’re doing okay, honey. Just let me know when you get to bed. I love you.

Gaby typed in a reply, telling her mother that she was fine and was heading to bed. She’d texted them when she landed and then left it at that, not wanting to spend her time in Italy with her face plastered to a screen.

Opening her backpack, she pulled out some comfortable pajama bottoms and a soft black cotton T-shirt, and changed. She brushed her teeth and put her hair up into a messy bun before padding over to the sofas and grabbing a book at random.

It was weird to see books written entirely in another language. As she paged through, unable to make sense of anything, her stomach grumbled again. While the food had been delicious, it hadn’t entirely filled her up.

Driven by her grumbling stomach, Gaby cracked open her bedroom door and peeked out down the hallway. Everything was silent, though small lights were spaced through the halls here and there. Apparently rich people needed nightlights too, Gaby mused.

She crept down the hallway, though she didn’t really know why. From what she had seen the only person who seemed to be living in that enormous house was Luca, and she had no idea where his room was. It had made her sad to see him sitting alone at a table meant to be filled with laughter and love and family. Having been raised surrounded by those things, Gaby could hardly imagine what it was like to be so alone, and whatever Luca had done to earn his parents’ ire didn’t seem to help the matter.

Gaby took a couple of wrong turns before she finally saw the plain hallway to the kitchens. When she peeked inside, the room was pitch black, and she fumbled along the wall until she found a light switch. She hoped that the cook wouldn’t mind her kitchen being rummaged, but Gaby was craving something else—she just didn’t know what.

Heading toward the area Luca had pointed out earlier, Gaby opened the fridge to find a wealth of fresh ingredients perfect for making just about anything her heart desired. She was already reaching for a box of eggs when she heard a sound and swung the door shut, coming face to face with Luca himself.

“Ah!” she cried, jumping back.

Luca reached out and held onto her arms to keep her from falling backward. When she steadied herself, she released her grip on his arms, and he hesitated before pulling away.

“What are you doing here?” she gasped, holding a hand to her pounding heart. Whether it was pounding out of fear or out of her proximity to Luca, she really couldn’t tell at that moment.

“I wanted a glass of water. What are you doing here?”

“I’m hungry. I’m an American, remember? We like big portion sizes.”

Luca broke into a hearty laugh at that. After bending over his knees he rose and wiped a stray tear from his dazzling gold eyes. “And yet somehow you manage to stay nice and trim. Tell me, what’s your secret?”

“A good metabolism and a lot of running around the restaurant,” Gaby replied.

Luca glanced at the closed refrigerator. “What are you going to make? I admit that the meal wasn’t quite filling enough for me either.”

Gaby opened the door again and glanced around, then she pushed it shut and looked at Luca. “Have you ever made pasta before?”

Luca shrugged and looked bashful. “I’ve never made anything myself before.”

Gaby put her hands on her hips. “Oh come on. You’ve never even scrambled your own eggs? Some people like cooking as a hobby, you know. Even the rich ones.”

“I’m not one of those people.”

Luca’s grin was either maddening or endearing. At the moment Gaby had a hard time deciphering which. She looked him over for a moment, pensive, then she pulled a few eggs out of the fridge.

“Well tonight you are getting a cooking lesson, Your Highness,” she said, bustling around the kitchen to find the flour, salt and olive oil she needed.

Luca looked momentarily apprehensive, but he approached the table as Gaby began to mix the ingredients in a large silver bowl. She realized, then, that Luca was wearing an outfit very similar to her own: long, cotton pants and a light T-shirt. He looked beyond handsome, and, dare she say it, normal. It was a good reminder that even though his status placed him above most people, at the end of the day, he was still just a person.

And tonight he was going to learn to make pasta.

TEN

“So we’re going to mix this all together until we get ourselves a nice dough. Come here and knead it.”

Luca was hesitant as he stepped forward and reached into the bowl, pressing against it with his fingers.

Gaby laughed. “You call that kneading? Come on, Luca, really get in there!” she said, wrapping her hands around his as she showed him how to properly work the dough.

When it was ready, she took the ball of dough from the bowl and, finding some plastic wrap, wrapped it up and set it on the counter.

“Now what do we do?” Luca asked, and Gaby was pleased to see him looking enthusiastic.

Glancing around the kitchen, she found what she was looking for and strolled over to a small wine rack, pulling out a bottle at random.

“We have a drink, because we have to let it sit for thirty minutes so we can allow the gluten matrix to relax. Otherwise the pasta will get all springy like a rubber band.”

“You sure know a lot about cooking,” Luca observed, opening a drawer and pulling out a corkscrew.

He held out a hand for the wine bottle, and Gaby gave it to him, careful not to let their fingers touch. Kneading dough with him had felt strangely intimate, and Gaby was already in dangerous territory there. Luca was too handsome to resist, and she needed to resist, for the sake of her own heart.

“I grew up in a kitchen. My mom taught me everything I know.”

Luca grinned, though there was a trace of sadness in his eyes. He popped open the wine bottle and pulled two glasses from a hanging rack, pouring healthy amounts of the deep red liquid into each. He handed one to Gaby.

“What did you do to upset your mom so much, Luca? You can tell me. Who am I going to tell?”

Luca frowned. “Oh I don’t know, the press? It seems like every time I start to trust someone, they sell out. The paparazzi are willing to pay big bucks for a scandalous picture, and everyone has their price. It makes it hard to trust anyone who isn’t…like me.”

“You mean someone who doesn’t need the money.”

Luca nodded. “Someone who doesn’t need the money and who understands what it’s like to be a royal. The pressure is so intense, sometimes it’s just nice to be with someone who gets it.”

Gaby tried to ignore the sting that comment left. What would she know of his life, being a commoner from Queens?

Still, she found sympathy for him. It was obvious that the Prince led a lonely life, and she really couldn’t imagine how hard it would be not to trust anyone. People could be manipulative and two-faced, and she had learned that only on a small scale in high school. Having people do it all your life just to take advantage of the associated fame or to earn a quick buck…that must be rough.

“I’m sorry, Luca. That sounds really hard.”

Luca lifted his gaze to meet hers, and they stared at one another in the silence of the kitchen. Gaby wondered what he was thinking; his gaze was so piercing. Finally, he broke eye contact, looking into his wine glass.

“Nothing to be sorry for. What do I have to complain about, right? I’m a wealthy aristocrat with the world at my fingertips.”

Gaby walked over and laid a hand over his as his fingers toyed with the rim of his glass. His hand froze then, and he looked up at her.

“You’re also very alone, and I can see that. Pain is not something that can really be compared. Your trust and faith in people has been lost. You put on this image because it keeps you safe from getting hurt, but I can see there’s a sensitive, lonely person underneath. You deserve to have a life filled with laughter and family, Luca. I may not be a royal, but I know what that feels like, and I know that it’s something everyone deserves.”

Luca stared at Gaby with an intensity she had never before experienced. As he leaned in closer, she knew he would kiss her, then. Part of her wanted that more than anything. Another part of her, the nasty little rational voice that always won out, reminded her what a terrible idea it would be. Gaby stepped away and turned back toward the pasta dough.

“The dough should be ready right about now,” she said, pulling out a rolling pin from a nearby drawer and powdering the table with flour.

She didn’t dare make eye contact with Luca again, but she could feel him approach her, standing close behind. She sprinkled the table with flour and began to roll.

“Can I try?” Luca asked, and Gaby turned to him, smiling up into his eyes.

“Of course.”

He grinned back down at her, taking the rolling pin from her fingers and dusting some more flour on top.

“That’s really good Luca!” Gaby said as he rolled the dough into a thin circle.

Once it was thin enough, Gaby rolled it up and took a sharp knife, cutting the roll into little slivers, which then unraveled into noodles.

“Wow!” Luca said, staring at the fettuccine-shaped strands. “We did it!”

“Not quite; we still need to cook it,” Gaby said. “Can you find me a pot and some water?”

“Aye aye, captain!” Luca said, searching through several cupboards until he found a large silver pot.

He filled the pot with water, and the two of them sipped some more wine as the water quickly came to a boil, and Gaby tossed in the pasta. After a few minutes, Gaby pulled the pot from the burner and drained the water, and Luca found two bowls, which Gaby filled. In the refrigerator she found some loose parmesan cheese and poured a dollop of olive oil into both bowls. She topped them off with a sprinkle of cheese each, and the two of them took a seat at the small wooden kitchen table.

“I used to eat my cookies in here as a boy,” Luca said, before taking a bite of the pasta. “Gaby, this is fantastic!”

Gaby blushed at the praise. “Thank you. Did you have many friends around here growing up?”

Luca took another large bite of pasta, following it up with a large pull from his wine glass. “Not really. I had a lot of friends at school, but of course I was sent away to boarding school, so I didn’t spend much time here, and all my friends lived far away.”

“Do you have any friends, at all?” Gaby asked.

Luca laughed, breaking the tension. “Well of course I have friends. Who do you think I get into trouble with?”

Gaby frowned. “Those aren’t friends. Friends are people who lift you up and make you better. They aren’t the ones trying to cause chaos and make things worse for you.”

“You are a wise woman, Gaby. Is there anything you don’t know?”

“I don’t know your middle name,” she said, throwing him off guard.

He laughed, then. “I have two, actually: Antonio Giovanni.”

“Well, Luca Antonio Giovanni of Campania. I may not know you all that well, but I’d like to think we could be friends. After all, I may be a royal myself,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

Luca’s expression softened. “You just might be. I know you don’t want to believe it, Gaby, but I have my best historians looking into your genealogy right now. There is a chance that you might end up here longer than just a few days.”

“Ha!” Gaby said. “Like I’ll ever get out of Queens.”

“Do you want to get out of Queens?”

So it was her turn to take the hot seat, Gaby thought. It wasn’t too comfortable, at that.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, taking a sip of wine, delaying her answer, if she only knew what it was. “I’ve lived there my whole life. It’s all I know. But coming out here and seeing the world, it just kind of opens your eyes, doesn’t it? For a long time, I figured I had everything I needed. I have a big, loving family, a nice home, an education, and a job for the rest of my life. That should be enough, shouldn’t it?” she asked, gazing into Luca’s eyes, searching for an answer there.

Luca sighed. “It does sound wonderful. But it also sounds like it’s not enough. You never mentioned a boyfriend,” he said, casting a sideways glance at her.

Gaby laughed. “Oh now you’re starting to sound like my family. ‘When are you going to get married, Gaby? Have a baby, Gaby. Why are you still single, Gaby?’ Like I have time to date when my whole life is spent cooking and cleaning the restaurant?”

Gaby looked down and realized both of their bowls were empty, as were their wine glasses. She felt the wave of exhaustion that was jetlag hit her hard, and she held a hand to her mouth as she yawned.

“You’re tired,” Luca said, rising and taking their bowls and glasses to a large basin sink.

“We should wash those,” Gaby said.

“The kitchen staff will take care of it, Gabriella. I think they’ll understand a few dirty dishes.”

Gaby crossed her arms stubbornly and glared at him, trying to ignore the rush of pleasure she felt at hearing her full name rolling off his tongue.

Finally, he relented. “All right, all right, let’s clean up our own mess. You win this round, Gabriella.”

Gaby joined him at the sink, turning the faucet until hot water began to run, and dipping a cloth under the flow to wet it. She sprayed a strand of soap into one of the bowls and scrubbed it with the rag until it was sparkling clean. Then she handed it to Luca.

“Now, you dry. Since this is no doubt your first time cleaning dishes, I’ll give you the easy job.”

Luca frowned, taking the wet rag from her hand. “I wouldn’t dream of it, dear lady. Please, stand aside and watch my profound skills of observation,” he said, washing the next bowl and handing it to her to dry.

Gaby hummed as she dried the rest of the dishes and the two of them put everything back where they’d found it.

“See, now that wasn’t so bad. And I’m sure the staff will appreciate our consideration of their time.”

Luca’s smile was warm as he gazed down at Gaby. “They’ll never even know we were in here.”

“Oh, they’ll know,” Gaby said, leading the way back out of the kitchen and turning off the light. “I always know when someone’s been in my kitchen. You can just feel it.”

“You’re a strange one, Gabriella.”

“You stopped calling me Gaby.”

Luca shrugged. “I know, I’m sorry, but Gabriella just sounds so much better to me.”

They reached her door again, and Gaby turned her face up to gaze at Luca. He’d almost kissed her, and she’d almost let him. They were at another dangerous crossroads where it could happen again. Gaby wondered just how much willpower she had left to resist him.

“It sounds better to me, too. Your accent makes it sound so natural.”

“It is natural. For all your American ways, you are still Italian, where it matters.”

He pressed his fingertips against her heart, then, and it immediately began to race. They stood like that in a frozen tableau of promise before Gaby found the willpower to open her door and bid him goodnight once again.

“Tomorrow we will explore Florence, yes?” he asked before she could close the door.

Gaby smiled at him. “Yes, that would be wonderful.”

Luca beamed. “Great. I will show you the best time, Gabriella. I can’t wait. Until tomorrow. Sleep well.”

“And you,” she said softly.

When she closed the door, she turned to her room and took a deep breath.

That was close.

She was already way too attached to Luca. There was something about him that was so mesmerizing. There was an emptiness to him that she wanted to fill, a frown etched into his beautiful face that she wanted to erase and replace with a smile. Still, the truth hit her like a bucket of ice water.