Page 72 of Christmas at the Castle
Their gazes met, and they exchanged smiles.
Okay. This wasn’t so bad. Maybe becoming friends was a possibility. Kat walked out the door.
A shiny silver sports car idled in front of her.
“Where’s Claude?” she asked.
“I’m driving today.”
That was a surprise. Especially since Claude did more than chauffer the royal family. “No security concerns?”
“We’ll be fine.” Gill opened the passenger door. “Your chariot awaits.”
Chariot was the right word given the engine’s horsepower. She got inside, sank into the black leather seat, and fastened her seat belt. Heat blasted her from the air vents. Christmas carols played on the stereo.
She had no idea how the prince earned a living—a salary from the country or if the family was old money—but everything from the dashboard to the armrest screamed luxurious and expensive. The car even smelled rich.
He closed her door, walked around the front of the car, and slid into the driver’s seat. Windshield wipers swished away the falling snow.
Gill buckled in. “Sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“You’re not telling me where we are going?”
“Maximillian didn’t tell you?”
“Haha. I suppose I deserve that.”
“You do.” He grinned. “I will tell you that you’re dressed appropriately.”
That was a relief. “I’ll have to thank Max for the clothing suggestion.”
Gill drove past the guard station and away from the castle.
Snow covered the foothills. The tree branches looked covered in thick white icing. She sighed. “Christmas-card perfect.”
“Snow makes it feel more like the holidays.”
Kat leaned closer to the window. “That’s for sure.”
Carols had been playing at the castle, but all the white blanketing the landscape made it feel more like Christmastime.
“The scenery is gorgeous.” She pressed closer to the window. “I half expect to see Santa and his reindeer flying overhead.”
He laughed. “It’s still daylight. Santa only travels when the children are asleep.”
“It’s nighttime somewhere in the world.”
“Back home?”
“Yes.” Cedar Village seemed so far away from here. She hoped everyone was doing well at work, both her coworkers and the animals.
“Homesick?” he asked.
“More than I thought I’d be.”
He glanced at her. “How so?”
From this angle, he looked like his father in the photographs in the sitting room. The late king consort had been an extremely handsome man, tall with curly brown hair and an ever-present smile.
