The Prince's Christmas Vow

Agreeing to work side by side with her ex.

And at the royal palace of all places.

The next morning, Zoe muttered to herself as she tried on outfit after outfit. The pile of discarded clothes on her bed was growing. What did one wear to the palace? Business attire? Nah, too stiff. A summer dress? Too casual. Nothing seemed fitting for the occasion.

And then she recalled that she wasn’t an invited guest. She was the help. She’d probably be ushered in the back entrance and kept out of sight. With that in mind, she dressed as she normally would for a consultation—a short purple skirt, a white blouse and a pair of heels.

Up until now, she’d carefully avoided Demetrius. In some ways, it seemed like forever since that horrible day at the palace when her whole house of cards had come tumbling down, and in other ways it seemed like just the other day. Demetrius had no idea how much that decision had cost her—she’d sacrificed her heart that night. And her life had never been the same since then.

Leaving had been the only way she’d known to care for her mother and to protect the prince. With Zoe gone from his life, he could move on. He could find someone else to be his perfect princess—someone whose DNA didn’t have a fifty-fifty chance of inheriting the blueprint for early onset familial Alzheimer’s disease.

In the beginning, she’d let herself get so caught up in his attention—in the belief that their love could overcome anything. In the end, she’d learned the harsh reality of life.

Love couldn’t fix everything.

If it could, her mother wouldn’t be ill. Her mother wouldn’t be fading away right before her very eyes.

As it was, her mother had just gone to stay with a family friend who had a house by the sea—the community where her mother had grown up. Her mother insisted that she wanted to go. She’d referred to it as her final vacation as the sea had always brought her mother great peace. The trip couldn’t have come at a better time. It provided Zoe with a chance to make the most of this amazing opportunity.

The buzz of her phone drew Zoe out of her thoughts. The number was blocked. She could only figure that it must be the driver sent to pick her up. She stabbed her finger at the keypad and an unfamiliar male voice came over the line. It was indeed the driver. He was waiting for her in the back alley. It was obvious Demetrius didn’t want to draw attention to her comings and goings. That was fine with her.

Most people in the building walked to work, making it possible for her to slip down the back stairs unnoticed. She entered the alley to find an unmarked black sedan with heavily tinted windows.

The driver opened the door for her. She climbed inside and leaned back against the cool leather seat. It was hard to believe that once upon a time this lifestyle had been hers. Sure it’d been brief—quite brief. But for a moment, it had been magical.

As the sedan rolled through downtown Bellacitta, she stared out at the colorful city. Though it was only November, the shops were already decked out in festive red and silver decorations. The lampposts were adorned with colorful wreaths. A sense of kindness and compassion was in the air. Zoe and her mother had always enjoyed this time of the year. Any other year, their Christmas tree would already be trimmed, supplies would be on hand for Christmas cookies and carols would fill their home. A deep sadness filled Zoe because the Christmases she once knew were now nothing more than memories, and the future looked bleak.

When the car rolled to a stop at an intersection, Zoe got the strangest feeling that someone was staring at her. She glanced out the window. She didn’t see anyone at first. Then at last her gaze rested on a man—the creepy reporter from the mansion. She froze.

He was standing on the sidewalk not more than a few feet away. He was staring at her. His dark eyes narrowed. Heavy scruff covered his squared jaw as his thin lips pressed into an unyielding line. The little hairs on Zoe’s arms lifted. When he raised his camera, Zoe ducked back in her seat before realizing that the dark tint on the windows would shield her. It wasn’t until the car was in motion again that she let out a pent-up breath. She rubbed her arms, easing away the goose bumps. At least she was going someplace he wouldn’t be able to follow—of that she was certain.

As the car exited the city, she wondered what the reporter was after—something specific or was he just digging for a juicy nugget. She told herself to relax. Sooner or later, the man would give up and move on to another story. She just hoped it was sooner rather than later.

Zoe glanced out the window as they passed by the outskirts of the historic village of Portolino with it stone walkways, quaint shops and renowned craftsmen. It was a much slower pace than the city life of Bellacitta, but it held its own charms. Caught up in the throes of life, she hadn’t been there since she was a child. If there was time someday after work, she wanted to visit the village, but the only way to do that was on foot. She’d have to remember to bring more sensible footwear.