The Christmas Princess (28 page)

“Ah, yes, her cookies are excellent. I will help you acquire an appropriate gift for Ms. Sharon, your friend, co-worker, and baker of excellent cookies.”

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome. And in return—” Ah, here it came. He should have known the king wanted something. “I ask for your help.”

“I don’t know what I could—”

“Listen to the request before you search ways to refuse it, Hunter.”

As quiet as the words were, the reproach flicked a nerve that said the king was right. “Your Majesty.”

“Sir,” he corrected.

“Sir.”

The king’s gesture accepted the implicit apology. “Humility does not suit you. But beware of arrogance. Now, as I was saying, April has determined that gifts should be
restrained
. I had planned … but she refuses to have even the least jewel from me. What can I give her? Do you have any idea what she might like for Christmas?”

Hunter opened his mouth to deliver the words his brain had lined up — “No, sir, I have no idea.” — in the tone that indicated it wasn’t any part of his duties to speculate, either.

What came out instead was, “Yeah, I think I do. If you’re willing to have Madame be royally ticked at you.”

The king’s eyes lit up. “What could be better? A present for April that will raise Madame Sabdoka’s ire.”

The day before the day before Christmas, April hardly saw Hunter. It was almost as if he were still gone. Except she kept expecting to see him around every corner.

Derek said, with some bemusement, that Hunter had said he had errands to run for Christmas.

King Jozef had told him at breakfast this morning about the decision made in his absence: They would not exchange presents beyond a few items in the stockings April had purchased.

So, he certainly wasn’t out getting Christmas gifts for them, and he’d been quite clear he didn’t exchange them with anyone else.

Christmas Eve Day, and April was in her element.

Oddly, so was Madame.

Sharon had swung by first thing in the morning, delivering a bounty of cookies. April gave her a seasonally wrapped box that she opened immediately. It held cookie cutters and a certificate for a Mommy and Me baking class.

“I figure it’s really for the whole family, since Ross, Caleb, and Ben will benefit from what you make,” April said.

“It’s perfect.” Sharon hugged her.

As she was leaving, Hunter quietly gave her an envelope. She stopped in her tracks. “What is this?”

“Open it later.”

“No way.” She tore it open. Read quickly, then beamed at Hunter. “Thank you.”

She hugged him, and he thumped her on the back twice. “Santa’s little helper.”

With her gone, he turned back and found April staring at him.

“You have to tell us,” April said.

“A donation in her name to a scholarship fund she supports.”

April looked at him for a long moment, then slowly smiled. “I think you’re getting the hang of this, Hunter Pierce.”

Now, the long table in the kitchen was lined with baskets despite Rupert having made one trip already. His next trip would be the big one, with most of the baskets destined for the homeless shelter, plus a few baskets and many treat bags for the animal shelter.

While Rupert delivered those, Hunter would drive her to drop off baskets for Etienne and Maurice. Rupert already had the basket he would take with him when he left this afternoon for his sister’s home in Baltimore.

Madame had it organized to the last second.

From his first round, Rupert had already relayed appreciation from Corrinda and Harlan at the Warringtons.

“At the hotel, all were delighted. Manny and Vanessa particularly asked to be remembered to you and to thank you for remembering him,” Rupert said.

She beamed.

“Ms. Holland also said to wish you the best of holidays, and that she was delighted by your present to Jason.”

The others looked perplexed. Hunter frowned. “The jerk at your office? The one who told everybody at the Willard that you skipped the Brussels sprouts? You gave that guy a present?”

She smiled. Not her usual open, bright smile. Instead it held mischief. “A basket of Brussels sprouts.”

Hunter laughed.

There was an extra beat, then the king and Rupert joined in, along with April.

Madame, however said, “You do not care for Brussels sprouts? I shall prepare them so you will.”

There was no arguing with that tone.

“Great, now we’re going to have to eat them,” Hunter complained in a low voice as they took the next set of baskets out to his car.

After Christmas breakfast at the sunfilled table in the kitchen, the king, April, Hunter, and Madame, under royal order, repaired to the library to open their stockings..

“But, first, there is a present for you, April, that will not wait. Hunter?”

He reached his room, started back at a good clip, saying out loud, “This better work.”

April’s view of his entrance was blocked by the large chair the king occupied, but Rufus almost ruined the surprise, alerting instantly. Hunter raised a commanding hand to him, and he stayed where he was.

April, sitting on the ottoman, was thanking King Jozef for giving her the Christmas she’d asked for when she stopped in mid-sentence.

“Dragon.”

Her voice shook.

Hunter dropped the leash and the dog went directly to her.

He thought that was good, then he heard her sob.

“April?”

She didn’t raise her head from where she had it buried on the animal’s neck, but gave a sort of fluttering wave with one hand that left him no less mystified.

He could have sworn … Hell, he
had
sworn to King Jozef that she would be overjoyed at this present.

“If there was another dog you would rather have,” started the king.

A simultaneous tongue-click from Madame and muffled sound from April stopped him. She lifted her face, showing tears tracking down from red eyes in twin tracks framing her red nose. She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Dragon turned his head and slurped her cheek in a canine kiss.

April started laughing. Hunter and King looked at each other

Rufus bounced over to join the fun, but failed to oust Dragon from the prime spot.

Hunter recognized what he saw in the King’s eyes, because it was what he felt, too. Relief overlapping a residue of unabashed horror. That moment when she started crying and he was sure they both thought,
Oh sh
— … well, maybe the King of Bariavak didn’t express himself that way, but the emotion was still the same. Here they’d been thinking they’d pulled off the perfect present, and the woman burst into tears.

Dragon saved the moment with that kiss.

Hell, if he’d known that kissing her was the answer to … No, better not go there.

“Of all the dogs at the shelter … Oh, this is a wonderful present. Wonderful!” She turned to Hunter. “When you followed me to the shelter —”

“What?” he said stupidly.

“That morning a couple weeks ago. I knew you were behind me.”

“You couldn’t have.”

She smiled at him over the dogs’ heads with tears still hanging on her lashes.

Protesting more would be useless.

“But I had no idea you meant to get me Dragon — both of you.” She beamed at him, then the king.

“He’s the king’s present to you.”

“I would not have known to make the present without Hunter.”

“But how did you do it? They usually don’t allow adoptions right before Christmas, because too many people change their minds after the holiday.”

“I have some small measure of influence,” the king said with dignified hauteur.

Hunter met April’s look for a moment, seeing their shared amusement at the idea of King Jozef of Bariavak using his royal influence to secure Dragon.

“You’ve had him groomed, too.”

“I should hope so,” murmured Madame.

“Rupert took care of that Monday after we picked him up,” Hunter said. “And took care of him during the day yesterday.”

“While Hunter has tended Dragon in his room the past two nights.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really,” the king confirmed solemnly, but Hunter heard the amusement underneath it, so he was prepared. “In his bed according to what Madame was told.”

He shifted, but faced her directly. “Had to keep him from barking. It would have given everything away.”

Madame emitted a disbelieving, “Huh.”

But April wasn’t looking at him. She was looking down to where Dragon had backed up against Hunter’s leg, while he absently scratched the animal’s flank.

Her eyes welled again, while her mouth smiled.

Hunter went back out and brought several more gaily wrapped packages, setting them in front of her.

“But we said only a few small things in the stockings,” she protested.

“These are not for you.” King Jozef sounded affronted that she would question his adhering to the agreement. “They are for Dragon.”

Laughing, she opened a new dog bed — which Rufus promptly appropriated — water and food dishes, and several dog toys.

“Now the stockings,” she declared.

She took each down from the mantel, handing it to the correct recipient. All were overflowing. They hadn’t been nearly this full after she’d put her purchases in before going to bed. There had been other Santas at work last night.

They each had some chocolates, nuts, and change. King Jozef pulled three quarters from his stocking.

“To get yourself a little treat,” she said straight-faced. Then she shrugged and added, “It’s a tradition in my family.”

“A delightful one. I shall find a vending machine in which to spend my Christmas booty.”

April opened a package and found a small book of Bariavakian cookie recipes. She looked up, smiling, saw from their expressions that neither King Jozef nor Hunter had thought of this, then met Madame’s eyes. The older woman had opened the packet of laminated recipe cards of the cookies they made last week that April had given her.

She held the woman’s gaze, smiled, then nodded her thanks as well as an acknowledgment of a connection forged.

With delight, King Jozef immediately delved into a volume of “strange Americanisms and where they came from” he unwrapped. April grinned at Hunter’s sudden absorption in Dragon.

The king’s reaction to his family photos April had put into a flip stand that could accompany him to the hospital dampened his eyes.

There were complementary leashes for Rufus and Dragon in the royal colors of Bariavak, a photo of a mountainside that clearly had significance to both Madame and King Jozef that neither of them divulged, a top-quality lint (and dog hair) catcher for Hunter that had them all chuckling, a pair of tickets to a basketball game for Hunter.

Then the final item in April’s stocking. A square box that fit in the palm of her hand.

She pulled the paper away and found a plain cardboard box inside. Tape slowed the opening, but then she had the top flipped back, pulled some cushioning paper back and pulled out a snow globe.

She glanced at King Jozef. He gave a tiny shake of his head. Surely not from Madame.

Then she held up the snow globe, and looked at what it held inside.

Madame complained the meal would get cold, but King Jozef insisted they eat Christmas dinner in the library, With the tree and a fire in the fireplace, it was as if nothing existed beyond this room.

And so the four of them ate goose with apple, cranberry and potato stuffing, a green salad, mashed potatoes, and … Brussels sprouts.

King Jozef dug right into his. April and Hunter exchanged a commiserating look, then each speared a sprout.

April’s eyes widened. “These … these are
good
.”

“It requires care not to overcook them, which makes them bitter,” Madame said with great dignity.

“But … it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

Madame’s attempt to stifle a smile turned it closer to a smirk. “A great deal of butter and brown sugar. My mother said always that anything was good if you applied sufficient butter and brown sugar.”

His Royal Highness, King Jozef of Bariavak, snored lightly as he dozed in the big chair angled to one side of the fire.

She and Hunter sat on cushions on the floor, with Rufus on his back, balanced against the side of her thigh. Dragon had been stretched between her and Hunter until Hunter got up to add another log to dwindling blaze.

Dragon circled three times, then sank down with a sigh, resting his head on Hunter’s thigh.

“I have something for you that isn’t quite … ready. I hope to give it to you tomorrow,” she said quietly.

“No need—”

“Not need. Want. Just as I want to say, thank you, Hunter.”

“No problem.”

“For the fire. For the tree. For helping Madame. For your kindnesses to the king. For Dragon.” The dog’s ears perked at his name, or perhaps at her voice shaking, but didn’t move his head. “For my present.”

The snow glove showed a view of the Capitol.

The view they had seen together as snowflakes began to fall on the National Mall after they had been ice skating. The view that captured the moment after he had kissed her the first time, and when he had almost kissed her again.

She didn’t know all the meanings that small, round of glass held for him — not even for herself. She knew there were many. For right now, right here, that was more than enough.

“For today.” She leaned forward, kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Hunter.”

Muscles ached that April hadn’t known she possessed.

Her cheeks from smiling, her hands from shaking, her back and shoulders from maintaining her posture and most of all her brain from thinking about what she said before she said it. No, not just thinking. Assessing, projecting, balancing

Princess muscles.

She sat in the nearest chair the moment the doors closed behind the last guest from the Receiving Hours.