The Prince's Christmas Vow

The disappointment was evident in her eyes and he hated that he couldn’t erase it, but he had a job to do. There was always something that needed his attention. Since he’d assumed his proper role as crown prince, the constant meetings had never bothered him.

Those busy activities had been just what he’d needed after Zoe had left him. It had kept him from getting lost in his loneliness. The back-to-back meetings kept him from dwelling on where things had gone wrong in his brief marriage. But now, with Zoe back in his life, he wanted time to stop. He wanted to talk to her—to comfort her—to help her.

He scooped up the envelope with the annulment papers and then glanced at his watch. If they didn’t get moving, he’d be late for his meeting with the king. And there was one part of the meeting that Demetrius was anticipating. At long last, he could tell the king and anyone else that cared to hear that their suspicions about Zoe were totally unfounded. His grip tightened on the papers. He was holding the proof in his hand.

While Zoe gathered her sketch pads and a few clothes, he pulled the papers from the envelope. They were indeed signed. This knowledge dampened his excitement over the passionate kiss they’d just shared. Zoe hadn’t lied. She did indeed want out of their marriage. Disappointment settled heavy in his chest. There was still so much to discuss. He wasn’t sure exactly what to do with the papers. For now, he would keep them safe.

“I’m ready.” Zoe, wearing a pair of big black sunglass, came to a stop by the front door with a floral canvas bag slung over her shoulder. She lifted her hand and placed a pink ball cap on her head and eased her long ponytail through the opening in the back. “I wanted some stuff to wear for the times I walk on the beach.”

He followed her out the door and down the steps. Once they were next to the car, Zoe came to an abrupt stop. Demetrius bumped into her. He instinctively reached for her shoulders to steady her.

“Zoe, what’s the matter?”

Her head was turned to the right, staring down the alleyway. “Did you see that? There it is again.”

He glanced around, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. “What is it?”

“A flash. Over there.” She pointed between a couple of buildings across the street. “In the shadows.”

Just because he hadn’t seen it didn’t mean it wasn’t there. He nodded to the head of security who was standing by his side, hearing everything that was said. A couple of men took off to investigate.

Demetrius rushed her into the idling car. “Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

He would do whatever it took to protect her. He remembered how they’d hounded his mother. She’d handled it with such grace—until that fatal day. On an outing, the paparazzi had gotten out of control, blocking the royal processional. And when his twin had grown bored and taken off into the crowd, mayhem had ensued. Security tried to move the paparazzi out of the way, but before they could a shot rang out. Demetrius’s body stiffened at the memory of his mother being shot.

“Are you okay?” Zoe sent him a worried look.

“I’m fine.” He patted her hand.

Whoever this stalker was, they’d find him before he did anything to Zoe. Demetrius vowed to keep her safe at all costs.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A VERY LONG day had passed and Zoe was still confused.

What does one say to the man who is officially your husband—an estranged husband at that—a prince—the man she’d made out with in the living room of the apartment she shared with her mother?

Well, the answer was simple. Nothing.

Or at least, as little as possible.

Not until she had her head screwed back on straight and her thoughts were actually coherent.

When Demetrius had dropped her off at the beach house the day before, she’d told him that she had a headache. It hadn’t been a lie. Her head had ached from the constant tug-of-war between the will of her heart and the common sense of her mind.

She’d spent most of the night staring into the dark, trying to make sense of where things stood between her and Demetrius. Luckily, it was now Saturday and she didn’t have to go to the office. She could spend the whole day at the beach house. She’d intended to complete her sketch for the mural, but she couldn’t sit still long enough—especially not after Demetrius called to say he was stopping by because they needed to talk.

Talk? Talk about what? The South Shore project? Or the unforgettable kiss?