Let It Snow... by Jennifer LaBrecque, Leslie Kelly

Claire looked past him to the entrance for the hotel and gasped.
    “This is...oh, my God, Philip, this is the Four Seasons.”
    “Yes, I know. The guidebook spoke highly of it.”
    She clutched his arm. “You can’t possibly afford this.”
    “For one night—for this night—I can absolutely afford this.”
    She opened her mouth as if to object again, but he kissed away her words. By the time he’d finished exploring her luscious mouth, any arguments had left her mind, and she smiled as she exited the car.
    Having called ahead to make arrangements, and gotten the information he needed, Philip didn’t hesitate once inside. He crossed the marble-floored lobby, which was almost as graceful and elegant as his own palace, though much more crowded, and went straight to the restaurant. After he gave his name, they were led to a private table, small and intimate, in a shadowy corner.
    “This is too much,” Claire said as Philip helped her into her seat.
    “Pampering. Remember?”
    “I know, but...”
    “Are you having a good time?”
    “Yes, but...”
    “Then please just enjoy yourself. Stop worrying, stop analyzing, stop thinking.”
    She hesitated, then finally nodded. “If you’re sure.”
    “I’m quite sure.”
    That seemed to put an end to her worries, because for the next few hours, over what even Shelby would concede was an excellent meal, Claire was as relaxed and happy as he’d ever seen her. They talked about everything. More about her childhood, and as much as he could tell her about his.
    He was finally able to admit that he was the only son of very wealthy parents, and revealed much about his daily life. She enjoyed hearing about his family. She especially liked his stories about his spoiled cousin, Shelby, who, she forced him to admit, hadn’t really wanted to work in her shop tonight, and had done it only under duress.
    “It sounds so wonderful, where you live,” she said, after they were finishing off a dessert that couldn’t begin to compare to the one they’d had the previous night. “I’d love to see it.”
    “You will.”
    She shifted a little and looked away. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I wasn’t angling for an invitation.”
    “You have one.”
    She nodded in thanks. “I just meant I’ve never really been anywhere but here. My mother used to talk about her life in the ballet, before she met and married my father. She traveled all over the world, saw exotic places—glamorous cities, big castles, jungles, deserts.”
    His own kingdom could provide many of those things. If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a jungle not too far away.
    So far, so good, as they said.
    “I thought you liked living here,” he murmured, wanting to discover just how attached she was to her homeland.
    She shrugged. “I do. But I don’t know whether it’s because I really like it or because I have no other options.”
    “You could go anywhere you want.”
    “Not easily,” she said with a sigh.
    “Because of your shop?”
    “The shop was a means to an end. A way to support myself and my brother. I never finished college, and neither did he. I inherited the building and thought about selling it.”
    Would Philip never have met her in that case? It didn’t bear thinking about. “Why did you decide not to?” he asked, suspecting he knew the reason. Claire wasn’t one to take the easy road.
    “I suppose because I was thinking long-term, not short-term. I had enough money to get by and to do something with the building. I don’t have many other skills, other than being able to make the most fattening foods on the planet.”
    “Delectable,” he murmured, thinking about some of the specialties he’d sampled. None compared to her, but they were all better than any sweets he’d tasted in any world.
    “It seemed going into business would be better than getting a big chunk of cash, which my brother could try to squeeze out of me in dribs and drabs.”
    Philip’s hand tightened in his