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Christmas in His Royal Bed / Rossellini's Revenge Affair: Christmas in His Royal Bed / Rossellini's Revenge Affair. Yvonne LindsayЧитать онлайн книгу.

Christmas in His Royal Bed / Rossellini's Revenge Affair: Christmas in His Royal Bed / Rossellini's Revenge Affair - Yvonne Lindsay


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visit feel less like manipulation and more like a paid vacation.

      Stepping onto the wide stone balcony, she moved to the railing and gazed out at the ocean beyond. Waves rolled to the shore, bringing with them a gentle lulling sound that could soothe even the most restless soul.

      Glancing at her watch, Alandra saw that she still had a couple of hours before she needed to start getting ready for dinner with the royal family. The thought of meeting them caused her stomach to dip dizzily.

      But she would deal with that when she had to. For now, she would call home to let her father and sister know she’d arrived safely, and to maybe get Elena’s advice about her current situation.

      Should she stay or should she go? Should she tell the prince just what he could do with his devious, conniving contract, and walk away from the chance to gift a quarter of a million dollars to a charity that could dearly use the money? Or should she swallow her pride and do what she had to to get through the month?

      Four

      At five minutes to eight that evening, Alandra followed the maze of hallways on the palace’s second floor and found her way to the main staircase. The maid who had come to check up on her earlier had given her general directions to the dining room, and Alandra thought she could find it on her own.

      But she needn’t have worried. As soon as she reached the stairs, she found Nicolas standing at the bottom, waiting for her.

      He was dressed in a dark suit, which made her feel better about her own outfit. She hadn’t known quite what to wear to her first dinner with a royal family, so had opted for a simple blue silk dress.

      “Good evening,” Nicolas said in greeting, watching her intently as she descended the stairs.

      Alandra felt a skittering of awareness as his gaze swept her from head to toe. No doubt about it, this man was dangerous. If she decided to stay, she would have to be very careful not to let those blue eyes and his handsome face lure her in and make her do something she wouldn’t normally do.

      “Good evening,” she replied, pausing at the bottom of the stairs.

      “May I?” he asked, offering his arm.

      She hesitated only a second before accepting, lightly slipping her hand around his elbow.

      “You look lovely,” he told her as they crossed the marble floor. The chandelier had been turned on, sending bright, twinkling light throughout the foyer and beyond.

      “Thank you.”

      She was saved from having to make further conversation as they reached the dining room. Nicolas opened one of the tall double doors, ushering her inside.

      The room was as opulent as the rest of the palace. A long, narrow trestle table ran the length of it, surrounded by heavy, high-backed chairs with seats embroidered with what must be the Braedon family crest. Light trickled down from another chandelier hanging over the table, and glowed from many wall sconces.

      The queen and king were already seated at the table, which held intricate place settings laid out for six guests. Nicolas guided her forward, stopping near what she assumed would be her seat.

      “Mother, Father, I’d like you to meet Alandra Sanchez. She’s from the United States and will be our guest for the next month while she works to help us better organize Glendovia’s charitable foundations. And hopefully increase their profit margin. Alandra, this is my father, King Halden, and my mother, Queen Eleanor.”

      The older man rose and came halfway around the table, taking her hand and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “Welcome to Glendovia, my dear.

      We appreciate the work you’ll be doing on behalf of our country.”

      “Thank you, Your Highness,” she replied, only slightly intimidated by meeting and speaking with a real live king. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

      Turning toward the queen, Alandra noticed that she’d remained seated. And when Alandra approached, she didn’t offer to shake her hand.

      “Your Highness,” Alandra murmured politely and respectfully, pausing before the older woman.

      She was greeted with a rather stiff nod, giving her the uncomfortable feeling that she wasn’t as welcome as Nicolas and his father would have her believe.

      “Please be seated,” the queen told her. “Dinner will be served soon.”

      Returning to Nicolas’s side, Alandra allowed him to hold her chair for her before he made his way around the table to the place directly across from her.

      A second later, the dining room doors opened again and another couple swept in. It was obvious to Alandra that the gentleman, at least, was related to Nicolas. He had the same build, coloring and facial structure as Nicolas and the king.

      The woman had similar physical traits, but Alandra didn’t want to assume anything for fear she was a wife or girlfriend rather than a sister.

      “Good evening, everyone,” the man boomed, smiling easily.

      “Mother, Father,” the young woman intoned, removing any doubt of her relation to the others. “Nicolas,” she added, laying her hands on his shoulders and leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

      “Menace,” he replied, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a grin before he shifted his attention back to Alandra. “I’d like you to meet my younger brother, Sebastian, and my sister, Mia, the baby of the family.”

      Princess Mia gave a short, harried sigh. “I hate it when you introduce me that way,” she told him.

      “I know. That’s why I do it,” he countered. Alandra didn’t miss the affectionate sparkle in his eyes or the amusement that lingered on his sister’s face as she strolled around the table to take the seat to Alandra’s left.

      “Our eldest brother, Dominick, is out of the country right now, but hopefully you’ll meet him before you leave.”

      Shaking out the napkin on her plate and placing it neatly in her lap, Mia said, “It’s nice to meet you, Alandra. Nicolas mentioned that you would be coming. He says you have brilliant ideas about increasing the amount of funds taken in by nonprofit organizations.”

      Alandra’s gaze flashed to Nicolas, flattered by his indirect praise, but he was looking at his sister.

      “She’s done terrific work with several charities back in the States,” he announced.

      From his seat across the table, Sebastian said, “That’s good. We certainly have our share of worthy causes here on the island that could use a bit of a boost. And it helps that she’s quite the beauty.” Glancing in her direction, Sebastian winked.

      For a moment, Alandra was startled by his brash behavior—in front of his family, no less. Then she realized this must simply be his personality. He was the youngest son, the one furthest in line from taking over the throne, and from the looks of it, a bit of a playboy, to boot.

      She returned his good-natured smile before noticing the scowl on Nicolas’s face. Her enjoyment fled immediately, replaced by a strange sensation in the pit of her belly. She didn’t know whether to be concerned or intimidated, or even amused.

      He had brought her here to be his mistress; she knew that. Under the pretense of working for his family, perhaps, but that didn’t change the fact that he wanted her in his bed.

      However, that didn’t explain why he would look so cross at his brother’s harmless comment and teasing.

      Unless Nicolas and Sebastian had fought over—or perhaps shared—women before. Was Nicolas concerned that his brother would catch her eye before he’d had a chance to seduce her himself?

      Oh, that was an interesting twist. And it would serve him right for spinning such a web of deceit to bring her here in the first place.

      Servants arrived then to pour glasses of water and rich red wine. When the salad


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