Christmas in His Royal Bed by Heidi Betts Page A

liked. Still on her knees, she inched away, afraid that he might reach for her again and she wouldn’t have the conviction to fend him off.

    One dark eyebrow hitched upward. “I thought we were off to a fairly adequate start,” he replied.

    Without looking at Nicolas, she rose to her feet. “I told you before that I didn’t come to Glendovia to become your latest conquest. I’m here strictly for business purposes. That kiss was a mistake. It never should have happened, and it won’t happen again. Things only got as far as they did because I’m tired and let my guard down.”

    But Nicolas wasn’t ready to walk away, not quite yet.

    He also got to his feet, then touched her elbow, stroking the satin fabric of her sleeve. “I could stay,” he whispered smoothly, seductively. “Make sure the rest of your evening is both restful and enjoyable. Infinitely enjoyable.”

    The spark in her eyes let him know he’d over-stepped his bounds. She shrugged out of his hold and moved passed him. Wrenching open the door, she stood back, body rigid, and glared.

    “Good night, Your Highness,” she said, her tone only a shade shy of disrespectful.

    If he weren’t such a patient man, intent on his goal, he might have taken exception.

    But he was a patient man, and he knew that pushing Alandra was not the way to win her over, not the way to lure her into his bed. Better to take things slowly, to woo and seduce her properly.

    “I’ll see you in the morning, then,” he said politely, moving to stand before her, giving no indication that her attitude or demands disturbed him in the least.

    Though she remained stiff, he took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.

    “Thank you for being such a lovely dinner companion, and for all of your hard work on behalf of the children’s home. I knew bringing you here was the right thing to do.”

    With a swift grin, he left the room and strode casually down the hall. A few seconds later, he heard her door close with a slam, and his smile widened.

    Alandra Sanchez was a fiery, passionate woman with a temper to match. She thought she was brushing him off, holding him at bay, but her reluctance merely intrigued him all the more.

    For the next two weeks, Alandra did her best to avoid Nicolas whenever she could, and treat him with cool professionalism whenever she couldn’t.

    Nicolas, meanwhile, did his best to get her alone as often as possible, to touch her hand, her arm, her cheek on a regular basis, and to romance her into letting down her guard and inviting him into her bed.

    So far, she’d remained firm in her commitment not to be seduced. But she had to admit, at least to herself, that it had been no simple feat.

    Nicolas was nearly irresistible. He was attractive and charming, and if he hadn’t approached her to sleep with him before getting to know her—which she found gallingly arrogant—she very well might have fallen into bed with him by now.

    Sad but true, and rather ironic. If he’d gone about courting her in a more traditional manner, he’d have likely gotten lucky.

    Alandra might be considered beautiful by many—a fact of life that was sometimes a blessing and sometimes a curse for her—but she was anything but compliant.

    And then there was the continued guilt and humiliation over the scandal that still clung to her name back in Texas.

    She’d phoned home numerous times since arriving in Glendovia, and each time she’d asked her sister about the scandal she’d been running away from. Elena had admitted that people were still talking, but the reporters had finally stopped camping out at the house.

    But even though the attention had died down, Alandra knew she’d been right to leave town when she had. She was also even more determined never to leave herself open to disgrace again.

    She reminded herself of this, firmly and repeatedly, as she made her way down to the foyer.

    In the time she’d been a guest of