The Prince's Christmas Vow

Zoe nodded. “I should be going.”

“Please don’t rush off.” Ms. Russo gestured to her cameraman to start filming. “Since you’re here, can you give us some idea of what to look forward to with the mansion?”

Zoe wanted to leave—to get as far away as fast as possible. But how would that look? Talk about giving credence to that creep’s allegations that she had secrets. She refused to let him or anyone else run her off.

With every bit of willpower she could muster, Zoe flashed the camera a smile. “Sure. As long as Prince Demetrius doesn’t mind.”

He made a pretense of checking his Rolex watch. “I suppose we have time. But it will have to be quick. I have another meeting shortly.”

“Certainly.” The reporter’s eyes gleamed with victory.

The woman started rambling off questions about the project as the cameraman filmed the whole session. It was bad enough running into her ex, but now to be filmed with him for primetime television made her want to groan. Could this day get any worse?

“Now, how did you two meet?”

“What?” When all three people turned inquisitive eyes Zoe’s way, the heat of embarrassment inched up her neck. “Sorry.” She searched for the easiest way out of this mess. “I got distracted. What did you ask?”

“I was wondering how you and the prince met.”

Zoe waited, hoping Demetrius would speak up and put an end to this interview. But instead he remained silent, letting the awkward silence grow. Zoe improvised. “We don’t really know each other.”

The reporter’s brow arched. “That’s interesting. I’d have sworn you two seemed to know each other. Are you sure there wasn’t another project? Or a social engagement?”

“We don’t move in the same social circles,” Zoe said with utter honesty.

At last, Demetrius found his voice. “This is actually our first project together and Miss Sarris might not remember, but we met ever so briefly at the opening of the DiCapria corporate offices. She’d done such an excellent job with its design that when the Residenza del Rosa project came up, her name immediately came to mind.”

Of course Zoe remembered that moment. It had been the night her whole world changed. So then how could he just stand there and talk about their very first meeting at the DiCapria party as though nothing had come of it? It had been the precipice of her heart tumbling and careening into his.

“The DiCapria office is beautiful.” Ms. Russo turned to her. “That project brought you a lot of public attention. Would you say it was a turning point in your career?”

“Definitely.” Zoe was very proud of that project. They’d given her a lot of freedom with the design and she’d ended up impressing everyone. “It was and still is one of my favorite projects.”

“I’ll make a note to get some photos of the DiCapria offices to include in this exposé.” The woman keyed a note into her phone. “And if we could just have one more photo of you two together for our website, we’ll be done.”

Zoe’s cheeks ached from smiling so much. Don’t they already have enough footage? But when she glanced up the cameraman had gone to exchange his filming equipment for a digital camera.

While the reporter spoke to the camera guy, Demetrius leaned close and spoke in her ear. “Hang in there. Doing what she asks will be a lot faster and easier than trying to duck out.”

His crisp, fresh cologne teased her memory. She remembered all too clearly what it was like to lean into him and press her mouth to the smooth skin of his neck. His quickening pulse would thump beneath her lips as she’d leave a trail of kisses from his jaw down to his chest—

She groaned as she drew her thoughts up short.

That was then. This is now.

* * *

Demetrius sent Zoe a warning look as her groan reached his ears.

She had to hang in there just a little longer.

This interview couldn’t fall apart now.

If he failed to gain the nation’s confidence, there was a very good chance that anarchy would ravage this very beautiful island nation his father had spent his whole life protecting. Demetrius would do all he could to keep that from ever happening to his much-loved homeland.

Most of all, he couldn’t let down his father. He knew in the grand scheme of things that it shouldn’t weigh so heavy on him, but his father hadn’t had the easiest life despite his position. When Demetrius was fifteen, his mother had been murdered in an assassination attempt. It’d fractured their family.