The Prince's Texas Bride (7 page)

He skimmed his hand down the inside of her arm. “And the company. Would you like a drink?”

Her eyes flashed open, and she leaned close to him, and she whispered, “Are you sure we should raid your aunt's liquor cabinet?”

Stefan laughed, full and hard, at the ridiculous question. He hadn't laughed this hard in a long time. The notion that his aunt would be upset at his use of anything in her home was ridiculous. He led Eve inside to the bar. “I'll replace anything we use,” he assured her. “What's your pleasure?”

“I'm not a big drinker,” she said, looking at the rows of liquor, but stopped when she saw a bottle of bourbon. “But I could sip on a Texas Rose.”

“What's that?” he asked.

She gave a mock gasp. “You mean I know something you don't?”

“What's in it?” he asked. “I'll fix it.”

“You?” she asked, her eyes rounded in surprise. “I thought you had staff for everything.”

“I do, but that doesn't mean I can't do most of what my staff can do,” he said. “Why do you think I fired so many stable masters?”

She winced. “That's scary.”

“Ingredients,” he demanded and stepped behind the bar.

“I've only had it a few times,” she said. “Bourbon, orange juice, cherry liquor…and champagne.”

He lifted an eyebrow, but grabbed the bourbon from the second shelf. The bottle was dusty. “Prissy drink.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But if you drink it, too, you can always say you've had a Texas Rose.”

Stefan paused as he pulled out a chilled can of orange juice and met her gaze. “I've never needed to embellish my successes.”

“There's always a first,” she returned and pulled her long bangs behind her ear.

Her ears were naked except for silver studs. It struck him that he would love to see her dripping with Chantaine's royal family's jewels…and nothing else. He felt himself grow hard and ground his teeth. On impulse he mixed two drinks at once, then poured the liquid into two glasses filled with ice. Walking from behind the bar, he gave Eve her glass and lifted his. “To a Texas Rose,” he said, “transplanted to Chantaine.”

She clicked his glass with hers and took a sip. “Not bad for a prince,” she said.

Stefan resisted the urge to seduce her to lie down on one of those white couches and make wild, crazy love with her. “Let's go outside, Madamoiselle Texas Rose,” he said and guided her to the balcony again.

They stood at the balcony and she sipped her drink, the wind lifting her hair from her shoulders. Stefan slid his arm around her waist. “You're homesick,” he said. “What do you miss most?”

“You weren't supposed to notice,” she said, giving a soft smile as she looked at him. “I was trying not to let it show.”

“You didn't answer my question. What do you miss most?” he asked.

“The familiarity, my aunt, barbecue. This isn't my turf,” she said.

“It will be,” he said. “It won't take long. Chantaine is small compared to Texas.”

“But complex and still very foreign to me,” she said.

“That will change soon enough.”

“If you say so,” she said.

The doubt in her voice surprised him. She was usually so confident, so ready to come back at him. “What made you question your ability?”

“Today shook me a little,” she confessed.

“Franz?” he said and gave a short laugh. “He's a necessary nuisance. This won't be your last run-in with him.”

She made a face. “I'd like it to be. I didn't know whether I would be staying or going.”

“You're too expensive to let go,” he said.

“I feel so much better now,” she said in a dry tone.

“You're good at what you do. You're just not accustomed to the way our press works. Just don't talk to them until you learn the ropes.”

“Who's going to teach me the ropes? Franz?” she asked with dread in her voice.

“No. My assistant or me. You can always call him,” he said. “You can always call me.” He couldn't remember when he'd told any other woman such a thing.

The band eased into a slow, sensual tune. Stefan's hands itched to touch her in ways he knew wouldn't happen tonight. “Dance?” he asked, setting down his glass on one of the tables.

Meeting his gaze, she let him take her glass and do the same with his. Then she walked into his arms, and Stefan sighed at the sensation of her body close to his, where she belonged. He drank in the subtle spice and sweet combination of her scent. Her silky hair skimmed his jaw and her breasts brushed against his chest with each movement.

Holding her eased something inside him at the same time he felt need stretch inside him. He tried to ignore the need and focus on how good she felt. For a full moment, the only sounds were of the sultry song, their hushed breaths and in the background, ocean waves rolling into the surf.

“Have you ever had a more perfect moment than this?” she whispered, lifting her mouth just beneath his ear.

He searched his brain and came up empty. “No,” he murmured, pulling her even closer.

The song finally faded away, and she lifted her head, searching his eyes. The expression of wanting he saw there made his gut twist. The connection between them was shocking in its intensity. He lowered his head and took her mouth in a kiss. She immediately responded, tasting of oranges, bourbon and something forbidden.

Although he was already aroused, he couldn't resist feeding himself on her mouth. He felt her arms climb around his neck as she kissed him with equal intensity. He slid his own hand to the small of her back, bringing her intimately against him. He wondered if she would pull away. Instead, she wriggled against him. His heart stuttered in his chest.

“You make it difficult for me to show restraint,” he muttered against her mouth.

“Is that what I'm supposed to be doing? Helping you show restraint?” she asked, her voice husky, her lips already swollen. She grazed his neck with an almost kiss and another twist of need ricocheted through him, this one stronger than before.

“You need to understand that everything will change once we become lovers,” he told her.

“Is this the standard warning required by the
advisers?” she asked, pulling back slightly with a sliver of wry amusement in her eyes.

“No,” he said. “It's just me being straight with you.”

“Aren't things already different between us?” she asked.

“Yes, but I am determined to be discreet. I don't want you or your reputation to be affected.”

“Can we just make this between you and me?” she asked.

“My position makes it difficult,” he said.

“I don't want the position. I want the man,” she said.

Her words nearly put him over the edge, nearly made him pick her up, lay her down on the couch and take her that moment. He'd spent a lifetime being the prince instead of a man. “You really don't care about my title, do you?”

“To be perfectly honest, Stefan, I'd probably like you more without it,” she drawled.

A sliver of exultation rushed through him. “I like your honesty,” he said, lifting a strand of her hair. “I like you too much.”

Her eyes darkened in awareness. “It's good to know I'm not the only one feeling this way.”

“No fear of that,” he said in a dry tone and gave in to the urge to sink his hands into her hair and pull her head toward him.

They kissed again and he linked one of his hands with hers.

Eve's heart hadn't beat regularly since she'd first laid eyes on Stefan tonight. She wasn't sure when she would breathe normally again. The world was tilted upside down, the night was spinning and heaven help her, she liked it. She liked the way his mouth moved against
hers. The way his body felt against hers. The way his voice felt against her ears and skin…

She wanted to feel more of his skin. More of him. Seeking his lips, she tugged at his shirt, unfastening one button, then two… She spread her hands over his chest and sighed at the indulgent luxury of feeling his muscles beneath her fingertips. He sighed, too, and the sound was more delicious than the most decadent chocolate. The sea air and the sound of the surf only added to the ambiance.

“You have muscles,” she said. “When do you
ever
get the chance to work out?”

His laugh rumbled through her. “Every morning at 4:30 a.m.”

She winced, still sliding her hands over his bare chest. “That's insane.”

“And what time do you get up?”

“Five-thirty,” she said. “Compared to you, I'm a slacker.” She kissed him again. “But maybe if I had to deal with your advisers, I'd get up at four-thirty to work off some of my frustration to keep from wringing their skinny necks.”

He chuckled again. “Some of their necks are fat.”

Shaking her head, she sank her face into his bare shoulder and inhaled deeply. “I like the way you smell.”

“I'm not wearing cologne,” he said and lifted her head. The expression in his eyes was just this side of ravenous. “Eve, you're not acting like a woman who wants me to hold back.”

Fighting a flutter of nerves, she licked her suddenly dry lips. Fish or cut bait, she told herself. “Maybe my actions are doing all the real talking.”

She felt him slide one of his hands all the way down
her back and he pulled her against his arousal. He made sure she knew just how thoroughly he was aroused. “Are you sure? I want you to be sure.”

“Another disclaimer for the advisers?”

He narrowed his eyes. “No. For me.”

She took a deep breath. “I'm sure.” She smiled. “Ravish me.”

He shook his head. “What an invitation,” he said and pushed her dress down her shoulders. Three heartbeats later, her bra snapped loose and his mouth covered hers.

Eve knew she was venturing into new territory, but she was determined not to be shy about it. She wanted to feel everything. She wanted to feel bold and in control, but the truth was she felt vulnerable. Eve refused to give in to weakness.

Instead she focused on her senses. She traced her fingers through his crisp hair, down to his strong shoulders and chest. He slid his hands over her bare breasts and she shuddered. Her internal and external temperature rose exponentially. Eve had never been high, but she suspected this was what it might feel like. Her head was spinning, she found it difficult to breathe and a wicked euphoria raced through her veins.

Somehow, during the next kiss, her dress and panties were pooled at her feet. She scrubbed at his arms and felt remnants of his shirt. His pants-clad thigh slid between hers.

“You have on too many clothes,” she said, her voice sounding husky to her own ears.

He shook his head. “Once my clothes are gone, my control will follow.”

“Thank goodness,” she said.

H
er words had the effect of gasoline on Stefan's passion. Within a moment he'd stripped off his own clothes and carried her to one of the couches and followed her down. She exulted in the weight of his body, propped on his elbows, against hers. His chest was hard and his kisses were a delicious combination of soft and passionate.

He plucked her nipples with his fingers then followed with his lips. One of his hands skimmed down over her rib cage, over her abdomen, then lower, between her legs. Everything he did made her feel more restless, more eager, more needy.

She arched toward him and he growled in approval. “Just a moment,” he promised and put on protection, then pushed her legs apart.

She instinctively braced herself just before he thrust inside her. “Oh,” she whispered, at the stinging, stretching sensation.

Stefan abruptly paused and searched her face. “Eve, are you—”

“Not now,” she said, feeling self-conscious for the first time since he'd begun kissing her.

“Why didn't you—”

She tugged on his shoulders to draw his face closer to hers. “Can we talk about this later?” she asked and wriggled experimentally beneath him.

Stefan swore. “Stop it,” he said, but brushed his lips over her jaw.

“Why? I think I'm starting to like—”

He covered her mouth with his and began to pump slowly inside her, stealing her breath. He slid his fingers between their lower bodies, stroking her at the same time. Eve felt as if she were a rubber band drawn tighter and tighter. She breathed in sharp bursts, wondering how much longer she could stand the sensation of him filling her and caressing her. A rolling surge of pleasure started in the backs of her legs and moving upward to her lower abdomen, her core, and exploded inside her, rippling throughout her entire body. Her eyes were closed, yet she saw flashes of vibrant colors.

Forcing herself to open her eyes, she looked straight into Stefan's gaze and saw the instant he climaxed. His eyes flashed with fire and he jerked, a giant spasm shooting from him into her. On top of her own pleasure, it was almost too much, physically, emotionally. She clung to him for several moments.

She finally caught her breath and whispered, “Wow.”

“Yes,” he said, his face pressed into her shoulder. “Wow.”

He took another breath and rolled to his side, his arms
still wrapped around her. “Why didn't you tell me?” he asked.

“Tell you what?” she asked.

He lifted a dark eyebrow, but said nothing aloud. His expression did all the talking for him.

Eve sighed. “You mean that I'm not sexually experienced,” she said. “Did I not satisfy you?”

He swore. “You know that's not an issue,” he said. “I'm more concerned about the fact that I took your virginity.”

“You didn't take it,” she said. “I gave it. And trust me, if I hadn't wanted to give it, I wouldn't have.” She glanced up at the swirling fans circling against the ceiling. “I've had opportunities, but it never seemed right. Or the men never seemed right. Or I just didn't want them enough. Sex isn't something I take lightly. I know there are risks. I never met any man worth the risk until you,” she said and looked at him.

He met her gaze for a long moment. “Because I'm royal?”

Eve rolled her eyes. “You really are stuck on that, aren't you? You just don't get it, do you? I've never met a man who I felt was as strong as I was.” She shook her head. “Oh, forget it,” she muttered and started to climb off the couch.

Stefan's arm closed around her like a vise, then he turned her toward him. “Give me a break. I've never been with a woman like you.”

“Is that good or bad?” she asked.

He paused a half beat. “I haven't figured it out yet—”

Hurt, she tried to roll away from him, but he stopped her. “Good Lord, you have no sense of humor.”

She shot him a fulminating glare. “If I said the same to you?”

“Okay,” he said. “You're good and bad for me. Good for my soul, good for my heart. Bad for my self-control. There. Does that help?”

“Does that mean you want me to go away?” she asked, her eyes dark with both questions and passion.

“Don't even think about it,” he said and pulled her on top of him.

Eve's heart hammered against her chest. Every naked inch of him was impressed against every naked inch of her. She slid her fingers through his hair and lowered her mouth to his, exulting in every millimeter of the flesh of his lips. She licked them and sucked them, kissed them and started all over.

Stefan groaned. “Eve, I can't stand this,” he muttered, pressing against her intimately so she knew what he meant.

“What do you want?” she whispered.

“Inside you,” he said without waiting a half beat.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked.

Letting out a long groan, he put on another condom and pulled her down on his aching shaft. She moaned. He groaned again.

He guided her hips over him and Eve found herself loving this ride more than any other she'd experienced. After a few moments, however, she felt herself tighten in anticipation. A combination of neediness and want consumed her. “Stefan,” she said, sensations intensifying with each passing moment. She sank down on him at the same time he thrust inside her and she felt a spasm of pleasure radiate from her core to every other place inside her. One heartbeat later, he thrust inside her again
with a loud groan of satisfaction that vibrated throughout her.

“Oh. Wow,” she managed in a broken whisper.

“Oh. Yes,” he said, wrapping his arms around her as if he never intended to let her go. And a secret part of her hoped it was true.

She secretly wished he wanted her at least half as much as she wanted him…. And that wish could be dangerous.

 

Stefan awakened with Eve wrapped around him. He glanced around the room for a clock and finally spotted one. 2:00 a.m. For goodness' sake, why had he fallen asleep? And for this long?

The sensation of her silky leg twined with his kept him pinned to the couch. Her hair splayed across her face in waves, her eyelashes looked like a mysterious dark fan against her cheeks. Remembering how good it had felt to take her, to be inside her, aroused him again. Since he needed to jet out for an early-morning meeting in France, he couldn't give in to the urge.

“Eve,” he said in a low voice. “Wake up, sweetheart.”

She wiggled against him and sighed, still dead to the world.

Her breasts brushing his chest made him clench his jaw. It would be so easy to kiss her awake, caress her and sink inside… He cut off the thought.

“Eve,” he repeated, in a normal voice. “We need—”

Her eyes blinked open and she stared at him. She let out a scream and punched his face and kicked at him. “Get away from me! Get away—”

Shocked, and his cheekbone stinging, Stefan quickly
backed away from her flailing arms and feet. “What the bloody hell? What's wrong with you?”

Sitting straight up, she blinked and shook her head. “Stefan?”

“Of course, it's me. Who did you think it was?” he demanded.

“I didn't know. I was having this dream and suddenly I woke up and a man was on top of me. It terrified me.” She glanced down at herself, taking quick shallow breaths, still clearly disoriented. “Oh, my God, I'm completely naked.” She grabbed a pillow and held it against her as she closed her eyes and tried to calm herself.

“Are you okay?” he asked, moving toward her warily. Bloody hell, the woman had a hard right punch.

“This is embarrassing,” she said. “I just hit you, didn't I?”

“Yes.”

“I'm so sorry. I'm just not used to waking up to find a man beside me,” she said.

He gingerly rubbed his cheek again. “No need to prove that to me.”

She cringed, rising to her feet, lifting her hand to his cheek. “Is it okay?”

“Of course it is,” he said, capturing her hand and brushing aside the pain. “But we do need to leave. I'm making a three-day trip to France and I have meetings first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, what time is it?” she asked, glancing around the room.

“Just after two,” he said.

She looked at him in horror. “How could we have both fallen asleep like that?”

He chuckled. “One of the secrets to a good night's sleep is great sex, and I'd say that's what we had in spades.”

A twinge of self-consciousness flashed across her eyes before she glanced away. “I should get dressed. What a night,” she muttered, nearly tripping over an ottoman.

He caught her against him. “Wait just a moment and let me turn on a light. There's no need to be embarrassed.”

“I'm not,” she retorted quickly.

Releasing her, he turned on a lamp and began to dress himself.

“Okay, maybe a little. I haven't done this before,” she said and scooped up her clothing. “I feel—flustered.” She made a sound of frustration. “I'm never flustered.”

He walked to her and put his hand under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. The turbulent emotion he saw in her eyes pulled hard at his gut. She was strong, but she was vulnerable. For a moment, he wondered if he should have allowed himself to take her. She wasn't as sophisticated as his other lovers had been. He also knew, however, that what had been building between them wouldn't have gone away.

“Don't be so hard on yourself. This was your first time,” he said.

She growled and lifted her chin away from his hand. “Oh, good grief. It's not like I was a sixteen-year-old virgin.” She stepped into her panties and pulled her dress over her head, then balled her bra into a knot. “Where's my purse?” she muttered, looking around the room.

Spotting it close to the glass doors, he collected it and gave it to her. “Here.”

“Thanks,” she said, snatching it from him and cramming her bra into her purse.

“I'll be back from Paris in four days. I'd like to see you,” he said.

She looked up at him, shaking her bangs from her eyes. “For what?” she asked and shifted on her feet. “I mean, is this just going to be a sex thing? Am I a mistress or—”

“No,” he said. “If you were my mistress, I would set you up in a private apartment and give you a monthly income. Your only purpose in life would be to be available at my beck and call.”

She lifted her eyebrows and rounded her lips in an O. “Sounds like you've done this before.”

“No. As a matter of fact, I haven't, but my father did several times.”

She gave a slow nod.

“You and me and just you and me. As you requested,” he said, wondering why his heart was hammering. He wondered if she would suddenly have buyer's remorse and back away from him. He didn't want that. Stefan couldn't remember having a relationship with a more authentic woman in his life.

“But secret,” she said.

“Of course. If the press or advisers found out, it would be hell for both of us,” he said.

She thought about that for a moment. “So what do you have planned for us in four nights?” she asked, her lips lifting in a slight smile.

“We could go for a ride after dark,” he said.

“I'd like that,” she said and took a deep breath. “I'm ready to go.”

“Good,” he said. He slid his hand behind her back to escort her from the room. Part of him, a big part of him, wanted to keep her with him, but he knew he couldn't.

 

The following day, Bridget stomped into the barn office with two cartons of Chinese food and a laptop. “I'm furious,” she said. “He has no right. No right at all. Is cashew shrimp okay with you?” she said more than asked as she plopped the cartons onto Eve's desk. “Do you like Chinese?” she asked with a scowl.

Not my fave,
Eve thought, but Bridget was so unhappy she decided to make do. She hadn't planned to eat any lunch at all today.

“Hey, how are you today?” Eve asked.

Bridget opened the carton of food, then lifted a hand. “I know I got a little out of hand last night. Drank a little too much—” She broke off and used chopsticks to take a bite. “But that was no excuse for Stefan using strong-arm tactics and being a party pooper.”

“Hmm,” Eve said, because she suspected anything else would just get Bridget more fired up.

“It's ridiculous, and I was totally embarrassed that he arranged for another ride home for you because he thought I wouldn't calm down,” Bridget added and took another bite. “You and I had a very nice dinner and you weren't miserable at the club.” She paused. “Were you?”

Eve squirmed in her seat. “I wasn't really miserable,” she began.

Bridget's face fell. “Yes, you were. I'm sorry. I'm just so fed up with all the social appearances I have to make. I needed one night of freedom.” She sighed. “I guess I went overboard.”

“I'm not familiar with the security requirements….”

Bridget scowled. “They're supposed to know everywhere I go days in advance. That allows for zero spontaneity.”

“Hmm,” Eve said. “Do you know if there have been any threats—”

“There are always threats,” Bridget said. “Lately, our citizens are very frustrated by the lack of jobs.”

“That's a problem in lots of places,” Eve said.

“Exactly,” Bridget said. “But in general the people of Chantaine are very loving and peaceful. I have a hard time believing any of them would commit a violent act against the royal family.”

Eve nodded. “But still, the palace security must protect you….”

Bridget sighed. “True. All too true. Maybe I just need a vacation.”

Eve thought about what Stefan had said about letting Bridget go to Italy, but she knew she should hold her tongue. “Maybe a break is right around the corner,” she said vaguely and took a bite of shrimp from the box.