The Prince's Texas Bride (12 page)

With her hair slicked back and water clinging to her dark eyelashes, Eve wrapped her legs around him for warmth in the water. “This is cold.”

“You're used to wimpy Texas water holes,” he said, sliding his hands over her silky skin.

“They're not wimpy,” she protested. “But they're warmer than this.”

“Our ocean is usually warm and the palace pool is always warm,” he said.

“I wouldn't know,” she teased. “That's off-limits for me since I'm not a Your Highlyness.”

He gave her a soft pinch and she squealed. “What was that for?”

“I wonder how you would react if someone called you ‘Your Highlyness',” he said.

“I have no fear of that,” she said. “Because no one ever would. I'm a working girl, remember.”

“Hmm,” he said, his mind moving in directions he'd never thought possible. He shook his head and reined in his thoughts. “Let's go back to the deck. Your lips are turning blue.”

They spent the entire day rotating between water, shade and sun. Stefan couldn't remember a day when he'd felt more free. As the sun set, he knew their time together would end soon. He had his duties, and she had hers.

They toasted with champagne and dined on fish and vegetables. He could tell Eve enjoyed the meal by the approving sounds she made.

He smiled. “Like the food?”

“Delicious,” she said. “I love fish, but I'm usually so busy I just grab a sandwich.”

“Then you're too busy,” he said as they moved from the table to cushioned bench. “The parade is over. You can relax now.”

“Black and some of the others are competing soon. I have to stay on top of them. When they perform well, you look good. I'm determined to make you look good,” she said.

“And that is one of the many things I like about you, Eve Jackson,” he said, lifting his hand to push a strand of her hair from her face. He couldn't quite read her expression, but he sure as hell wanted to know what was going on inside her. “Three wishes,” he said. “If you could have three wishes, what would they be? And they can't include world peace or a cure for killer diseases.”

“Well, darn, you took my first two. I have my dream job. I'm on the water on this incredible day with an incredible man. What else could I possibly want?” she asked. When he continued to wait for an answer, she sighed and closed her eyes for a long moment. “I'd really like to see my brother again. I'd really like to know that he's all right.” She finally opened her eyes and met his gaze. “And I'd like for you to be happy.”

He made a mental note of her brother, but was
surprised when she'd mentioned his happiness. “What makes you think I'm not happy?”

“Your Highlyness, you are a tortured soul,” she said, gently poking her finger at his chest. “If you're not fighting the image your father left behind, then you're fighting your advisers about what you want to accomplish now and in the future. Your job is never done. Do you ever feel a sense of accomplishment?”

“I do today,” he said. “I successfully kidnapped you and spent a day away from the compound.”

“Do you really feel that way about the palace?” she asked. “Like it's a compound or prison? I can certainly see why you would.”

“I have mixed feelings about the palace because I do a lot of work there. Although I'm protected from the press and prying eyes, it's not always easy to relax.” Except with her, he thought. When Eve was close by, something inside him eased. “The sun is setting. We have a few more moments. No more talk about the compound, okay?”

She met his gaze and lifted her hands to cup his face. “Okay, Your Highlyness,” she said and leaned closer to kiss him.

 

The next day at lunchtime, Bridget walked into Eve's office at the stable. Eve chuckled to herself. Princess Bridget was nothing if not predictable with her timing.

“Hellooooo?” Bridget called cheerily from the doorway and placed a cellophane-wrapped bag of foil candies onto her desk. “I brought chocolate this time instead of lunch since you didn't seem to enjoy the last lunch I brought.”

“Good afternoon, Your Highness. How can I help you?” Eve asked.

“Oh, please drop the ‘Your Highness.' You and I are friends. And I do have some juicy gossip about Stefan. I got it off the internet. Apparently Stefan went out on his yacht with a woman yesterday,” she said and thrust the story and photo at Eve.

Eve's breath and heart stopped. The words blurred in front of her. The photo featured Stefan, shirtless, his head tilted back with a smile of delight on his face. Opposite him, a woman's feet and legs extended from beneath an umbrella.

“They only got a show of the woman's feet and legs up to the knees,” Bridget said.

Eve curled her toes inside her boots. She cleared her throat. “Those cameras are amazing.”

“Yes, they are, but it's a shame they couldn't have gotten a shot of the woman's face or even her body. All we've got now is this photograph of her feet and from the looks of it, she needs a pedicure,” she said with a sniff.

Eve resolved to scrub her feet with a pumice stone and paint her toenails that evening. “It's hard to tell much detail from the photo,” she said.

“True, it could just be a bad French pedicure. Either way, this is good and bad news,” Bridget said.

“How is that?” Eve asked.

“It's good because Stefan is seeing a woman. It's bad because he's not seeing the woman I chose for him,” Bridget said with a pout.

“Hmm,” Eve said because she couldn't conjure another response.

Bridget sighed. “Well, I'll keep trying because I believe Stefan needs a wife even if he doesn't realize it. But
that's not why I came to see you.” She paused, staring at Eve for a moment. “You're sunburned, darling.”

Eve bit her lip, thinking about all the time she'd spent on the yacht yesterday. “I've been training the horses outside a lot lately. Maybe that's it.”

“You need to be more careful. Use more sunscreen. Always reapply,” Bridget preached.

“Excellent advice,” Eve said.

“The other reason I came is that I'm making a different appearance next week and I'd really appreciate it if you would come with me,” Bridget said.

Curious, she watched Bridget almost fidget. “What kind of appearance?”

“I'm visiting disadvantaged teenage girls. I'm taking gently worn designer clothing and encouraging them to focus on bettering themselves,” she said. “I hope it won't be a disaster.”

“No. It's a great idea. I just wonder if it needs another element,” she said.

“Such as what?” Bridget asked.

“An educational push. Are there scholarships available for these girls? Trade, academic…”

Bridget paused thoughtfully then smiled. “I like it. No, I love it. I'll talk to the educational minister right away.”

“So what do you need me for?” Eve asked.

Bridget bit her lip. “Texas courage?”

Eve laughed. “You've got it.”

 

Two nights later, Stefan invited her to dinner. Eve was torn about joining him after the internet article. She knew her relationship with Stefan needed to remain secret for both their sakes. A public outing of their affair would be devastating for the credibility of both of them.
Vacillating until the last moment, she left her apartment and sped down the stairs to the front door where Max waited for her.

“Ms. Jackson, I wasn't sure you were coming,” he said.

“I wasn't sure, either,” she muttered and strode toward the palace, thankful for the cleansing breeze that blew over her hot cheeks.

“Are you all right, ma'am?” he asked. “Is there something you need?”

Despite the fact that Max was trained to kill in more than fifty ways, he was a teddy bear. “I'm fine. Just a little tense tonight. Thank you.”

“You're very welcome, ma'am. If you do need something, let me know,” he said as they drew next to the palace door and he opened it for her.

“Thanks,” she said, looking at Max. He was about the age her father would have been if he were still alive. She wondered what her life would have been like if she'd had a father like Max. “You're a good man. Good night.”

She climbed the stairs to Stefan's suite, still filled with mixed feelings. She barely lifted her hand to knock and the door swung open. “Come in,” Stefan said.

As soon as she stepped inside, he pulled her into his arms and whirled her around. A giddy sensation bubbled inside her. “What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.

“It's been two long days since I've seen you. Too bloody long,” he said, then took her mouth.

Her head immediately began to spin. “But the photog,” she protested.

“What photog?” he asked, stopping.

“The one on the internet. Bridget showed me the article,” she said.

He laughed. “Oh, that one. All they got were your feet.”

“And you can be sure I scrubbed and painted my toenails right away,” she said.

“I look forward to seeing them,” he flirted.

“Stefan,” she said, meeting his gaze. “Seriously, don't you think this was a little close? You and I agreed that we want our relationship to remain between just you and me.”

He appeared to stifle a sigh. “Yes, we did. But what's the worst that could happen?”

She stared at him in disbelief. “Besides your losing credibility and being shamed because you're cavorting with staff? Or I could lose all respect for my work with horses. In fact, your entire stables could be called into question. That's all.”

He raked his hand through his hair and his face lost its joy. “You're right,” he said. “But I find myself straining against the secrecy. Tell me you didn't enjoy our time on the yacht,” he said, sliding his hands over her shoulders.

“Of course I did, but I also don't want to cause you any pain or hardship. Your job is hard enough as it is,” she said.

He slid his hands around the nape of her neck and pulled her toward him. “Are you always so sensible?”

“Not exactly,” she drawled. “I got involved with you, didn't I?”

He kissed her and kissed her and they didn't have dinner until much, much later. After they dined, she rested on him, her head against his chest. Her body was still buzzing from their lovemaking.

“I've had nonstop meetings the last two days. That's why I haven't called. I think I've found another way to
bring more business to Chantaine,” he said. “Turns out there are jazz festival tours that draw fans from all over the globe. We just need to work on finding a discount airline to make tourist travel easier.”

“I thought you didn't want to bring in too many tourists,” she said.

He shrugged. “There's a balance I don't think we've reached yet. We need more employment, more opportunities for our people. I think we need to keep pushing. If necessary, we can eventually pull back.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” she said, but her mind bounced back to what he'd said earlier about allowing their relationship to become public. His remark had been uncharacteristically reckless. “I'm a little tired. I need to go to bed.”

“I'd like you to stay here,” he said.

That was the problem, she thought as her heart jumped. “I don't want to bump into your morning staff,” she said with a wink and a smile. “I should go. Sweet dreams, Stefan.”

 

The next morning, Eve's alarm awakened her way too early. She pushed the snooze button. Four times. Finally, she forced herself from bed and scrubbed the sleep from her eyes. She really was going to have to start taking a day off every week where she slept late and spent the day watching mindless TV.

Daylight seemed to be coming earlier and earlier each morning. Turning on the jets to the shower, she stripped from her nightgown, still sensitized by how Stefan had touched her and made love to her the night before.

His touch affected her in a primal way. The more she was with him, the more she wanted to be with him, the more she wanted to protect him and be protected by
him. How crazy was that? It was totally irrational, she thought, as she stepped into the shower and willed the water to give her some good sense. She was no princess, no countess, no blue blood. She was a Texan hick done good by going to college, and then following her dream to make her living by working with horses. Her current job was a dream. Her affair with Stefan was insanity.

After she scrubbed herself thoroughly, she dried off and put on her terry-cloth robe. Her coffeemaker greeted her with the smell of a fresh pot. “Thank you very much,” she said, then poured herself a cup. Splurging, she dumped in some cream and sweetener.

Hearing the thud of the newspaper against her door, she retrieved it, glancing at the headlines as she sipped her coffee. Unemployment. Hope for New Job Opportunities. Who Is Prince Stefan's Girlfriend?

Her heart sank to her feet, and her coffee cup shattered on the floor.

F
or the next three days when Stefan texted Eve, inviting her to join him for dinner, she refused. Spotting her feet featured on the internet was one thing, but seeing a photograph of her feet on the front page of Chantaine's newspaper was a horse of a different color. Eve refused to endanger her or Stefan's reputation, and she was frankly surprised that he wasn't more upset about the publicity than he acted.

After taking Black for a ride, Eve settled the stallion in his stall with his new friend Cupcake, the hornless goat. She'd gradually introduced the two of them with complete supervision. At first Black had been curious. Then he'd ignored Cupcake. She'd just about given up on the match when she'd spied Black nuzzling the goat. Now they were best buds.

She heard a sound and glanced behind her to find Stefan carrying Stephenia in his arms. Her heart skipped
over itself. “We're the search party sent to find you,” Stefan said, walking toward Eve. “We've missed you.”

Her chest tightened at the raw emotion she saw in his eyes. She'd missed them, too. “I just thought, after the newspaper article, it might be best if I were less visible.”

“The Chantaine newspaper isn't known for their journalistic integrity,” he said in a dry voice.

“I know, but I don't like being the cause of discussion and speculation about you,” she said.

“There will always be speculation about me, even when there's no basis for it. I can't let that kind of speculation keep me from what's important to me,” he said.

What's important to me…
She hadn't intended to become so important to him and she sure hadn't intended for him and his family to become so important to her.

Stephenia pointed at Eve's hat. “Peas.”

Allowing herself the distraction from her disturbing thoughts and emotions, she smiled and gave the toddler the hat. “You said the magic word.”

“Speaking of magic, it looks like your idea for Black has worked well,” Stefan said, glancing in the stall. “I've heard of goats settling down racehorses, but I wouldn't have thought it would work for Black.”

“He was lonely,” Eve said. “They're herding animals, so when they don't have anything to herd, it makes them edgy.”

“Well, now that you're finished for the day, Stephenia and I would like you to join us for dinner,” he said. “And we're not taking no for an answer,” he added before she could form a refusal. “Right, Stephie?” he prompted, stepping closer to Eve.

The toddler lifted her arms for Eve to hold her, stealing her heart all over again. Eve took the child in her
arms and drank in her sweet, clean scent. She cast a sideways glance at Stefan. “You're playing a little dirty.”

“All's fair,” he began.

Panicking at the possibility of hearing the rest of that quote from his mouth,
in love and war,
she interrupted. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. What's for dinner?” she asked, changing the subject as she carried Stephenia on her hip and turned out the lights.

“It's a surprise,” he said and opened the door for her. The limo waiting a few yards away sprang to life and the driver opened the door. After a short drive, the car stopped at the side entrance of the palace and Stefan carried his daughter up to his quarters with Eve walking beside him.

“I don't trust her on these stairs yet. Marble is unforgiving,” he said.

Eve felt an extra warmth curl through her at his growing protectiveness toward Stephenia. “This would be a good practice activity with the nanny or you when you're feeling extra patient. The advantage to letting her do some of her own walking and climbing is that it—”

“Wears her out,” he finished for her as they entered his suite. “Yes, I'm learning that. She doesn't have as much energy for screaming that way.”

Eve noticed the dining table was already set. She also noticed some other changes. “Gates? No collectibles on the coffee table?” She gave a mock gasp. “You child-proofed your domain.”

He shot her a darkly amused look. “I'm told it's temporary,” he said as he set Stephenia down. “It will return to normal in two or three years if I'm lucky.”

The toddler immediately went to a corner of the room, which held a toy box. She opened the box and began pulling out all of the toys. Eve chuckled to herself.

“You're enjoying this too bloody much, Eve,” he said, sliding his hand through hers and tugging her toward him.

“Hard on your dignity to have a toddler, isn't it?” she said, and he stole a kiss before she could turn away. Stephenia was too engrossed with her toys to notice.

“I should warn you there won't be any candlelight during this dinner,” he said.

“No problem,” she said. “I can't wait to see how the new dad deals with the two-year-old and her food.”

“For such a beautiful child, she can be a little savage,” he said, clearly disconcerted. “I'll call for the staff to deliver the food.”

Eve washed up and helped Stephenia do the same. By the time they returned to the dining area, the staff was serving the food. The scent of barbecued ribs filled the room.

Eve stared at Stefan in surprise as he waved her toward the table. “Are those really baby back ribs?” she asked, stunned.

“They really are. The chef extracted the recipe from your aunt. He said it required intense negotiations.”

Eve chuckled. “I'm sure she swore him to secrecy,” she said. “And then promised him she would come after him like a wounded animal if he didn't stick to the deal.”

“You know her well,” he said and held out his hands to Stephenia. “Come here little one. Time to eat.”

Stephenia allowed him to place her in her high chair and surveyed her meal of carrots, Italian broccoli, apple slices and chopped up bites of meat. She picked up a carrot and shoved it into her mouth.

“She eats better when she feeds herself,” he said in
a long-suffering voice. “But watching her can kill your appetite.”

“I'm amazed that you're taking some meals with her,” she said. “I didn't expect you would be the kind of father to—” She broke off when she realized she'd misjudged him. “I apologize for that. You don't deserve it. You barely found out you had a daughter and look how far you've already come.”

“Never in a million years did I imagine that I would be a single parent with a toddler daughter. The advantage that I have is that my sisters will take part in raising her and I also have nannies. Stephenia and I won't eat all our meals together, but I plan to set aside several times during the week where she and I share meals. It's one more way for her to grow accustomed to me.”

Stephenia lifted a piece of broccoli toward him.

“Thank you very much,” he said and lifted the vegetable to his mouth and pretended to eat it. “Very good.”

Stephenia beamed and stuffed an apple slice into her mouth.

Eve took her first bite of the ribs and moaned in pleasure. “Delicious. Wonderful. Fabulous.”

Stefan shot her a sensual gaze. “Your tone of voice sounds remarkably similar to when I—”

Eve felt her face heat and shook her head “Okay. Little ears. She may not understand, but you better start practicing what you say in front of her because she will repeat it. Thank you again for the ribs.”

“Do they help appease the homesickness?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “They do and they're delicious. I'm very touched that you would go to such trouble for me.”

“It wasn't that much trouble,” Stefan said. “But I
would have hated to have to go through with my threat to pull the guillotine out of the dungeon if my chef couldn't get the recipe.”

“Oh, you didn't,” she said.

“Since the chef was successful, we'll never know, will we?”

Stephenia ate several more bites, then began to offer the rest of her food to both Eve and Stefan.

“I think this means she's done,” Eve said.

“Bath time,” he said and called for the nanny.

They leisurely enjoyed the rest of the meal and Eve updated Stefan on her progress with the horses. His phone beeped and he took the quick call. “Would you like to say good-night to Stephenia with me?” he asked.

“I'd love to,” she said, then walked down the long hallway to the nursery. Stephenia's eyes were already drooping and her thumb was tucked firmly in her mouth.

Her gaze lit up as Stefan entered the room. “Book,” she said, pointing her finger at him.

“Again?” he asked and took the child from the nanny. “Say good-night to Eve,” he said.

Eve moved closer to give Stephie a kiss. Stephie surprised her by placing a wet kiss on her cheek. “Oh, what a cutie,” she said. “Sweet dreams, darlin',” she said, and then backed away as Stefan sat in the rocking chair and read the book under a dim light.

His low voice was soothing and he rocked slowly as he stroked his daughter's head. Her heart twisted so tight inside her she could hardly breathe. He was being so tender with her. This moment was just for the two of them. Suddenly feeling as if she were intruding, she quietly backed out of the room.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and was stunned to feel her eyes damp with tears. She wondered why she was so emotional. Swiping her eyes, she thought back to her own childhood. Her father had never rocked her to sleep. Her father had never read a book to her. Her father had never been a
father
to her.

It all hit her at once. Seeing Stefan become a loving father so quickly showed her what kind of man he was underneath. She had already fallen in love with him, but—alarm shot through her. No, she told herself. Not the
L
word. Not with Stefan. Their relationship was impossible. He knew it. She knew it. How could this have happened?

Distressed, she turned blindly down the hallway. She needed to leave immediately. Turning the corner, she walked straight into a man. Chagrined, she patted his arm. “Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” the white-haired man said in a testy voice. “Are you staff? What are you doing on this floor?”

“I was invited to—” She stopped, realizing she didn't want to reveal more. “I was just leaving. Again I'm sorry.”

“Just a moment,” he said when she turned. “Do you know where Prince Stefan is? I'm trying to reach him about an urgent matter.”

She felt an invisible barrier slide upward. It came out of nowhere. She wasn't sure she liked this man. “His Royal Highness is already taking care of urgent business,” she said. “I'm certain he'll be available in fifteen or thirty minutes. If it's not a matter of utmost importance, then you should try to reach him again later.”

He looked taken aback by her don't-mess-with-me
tone and lifted his chin. “Do you know to whom you're speaking? I am one of Prince Stefan's lead advisers, Tomas Gunter. I do not take orders from staff. Give me your name.”

“My name is Eve Jackson,” she said. “And I meant it when I said that Stefan is taking care of urgent business. Don't bother him.”

Eve heard footsteps in the hallway coming toward them. Stefan rounded the corner, lifting his eyebrows in surprise as he approached them. “Good evening, Tomas. I'm surprised to see you here at this hour.”

“Your Royal Highness, you know I wouldn't bother you if it weren't a matter of importance,” the adviser said. “Your staff member here told me you were taking care of urgent business.”

Stefan glanced at Eve and tossed her a questioning glance.

“Time for me to go,” she said with a smile that looked more like a grimace and backed away. “Y'all don't stay up too late. Sweet dreams.”

“Eve,” Stefan called, not liking the look of panic she was trying to conceal.

“I'll catch you up on your stallion later,” she said. “Really. G'night,” she said and whirled away.

He looked after her and sighed. Something had happened to upset her. They'd been separated barely five minutes. What the hell could it have been? Stefan turned to Tomas and frowned. “What did you say to Ms. Jackson?”

“Nothing,” the adviser said. “I told her I needed to talk to you, and I questioned her as to why she was on this floor. That
is
a security breach,” he said defensively. “She just kept insisting that you were conducting urgent
business, and that I wasn't to interrupt you. I found that impertinent, bordering on subordinate.”

Stefan chuckled. “She was right. I was conducting urgent business. I was rocking my daughter to sleep.”

Tomas stared at him with a blank expression on his face. “I don't know what to say, sir. I never dealt with this kind of thing from your father.”

“You've just paid me a high compliment,” Stefan said and walked toward his suite. He didn't appreciate Tomas interrupting his evening with Eve. He'd practically had to trick her into joining him and now she'd fled. “It's late. If you don't mind, could you reveal to me the pressing matter that brought you here tonight?”

The adviser shifted uncomfortably. “I think it's best if we speak in private.”

Reluctant to let the man into his quarters, Stefan obliged the adviser. “I have another matter to address tonight. I would appreciate brevity.”

“Of course, sir,” the adviser said, and Stefan shut the door behind him.

Tomas locked his hands behind his back and began to pace. “Your Royal Highness, unfortunate rumors are being spread about you, and you must take action to nip them in the bud. The rumor is that you have become sexually involved with one of your staff. I don't need to tell you that this will reduce your effectiveness as Crown Prince of Chantaine. You've told me of your high aspirations to help your country, and this kind of tawdriness will do nothing to help you. In fact,” he said, “it can only hurt you, the royal family and the entire country of Chantaine.”