The Rancher's Christmas Princess (9 page)

“We’re going to have to teach Dada to change your diapers,” she
said to Ben.

Preston, right behind her where she was all too aware of him,
said, “It doesn’t look all that hard.”

“Great. You can do the next one.”

“How soon until he learns to use the toilet?”

“Every child is different. I brought along a good book on potty
training. It’s over there in the bookcase.” She snapped the last snap on the
blue pajamas. “There. All ready for bed. Would you like a story, Benjamin?”

“Yes!”

“Dada will read to you.”

Ben considered that idea, while Preston stood a few feet away
trying to look relaxed and willing but not too eager. Finally, Ben commanded,
“Dada. Yes.”

Belle was tempted to hand Preston the Winnie-the-Pooh picture
book just to watch his reaction. But she kept her wickedness in check and chose
a story about trucks.

“Dada loves trucks,” she told Ben. “And horses and cars. And
trains as well.”

“Rub it in,” Preston said darkly.

Ben stuck his finger in his mouth, sighed and drooled. He was
fading fast and would probably go right to sleep if she just put him in his
crib, kissed him and said goodnight.

Still, they were doing amazingly well at nudging him toward
thinking of Preston as a caregiver. Plus, they
had
promised him a story. She handed Preston the book. “Take the rocker.”

Preston settled into the chair he’d brought down from the attic
the evening before. She handed Ben over to him.

They made the cutest picture, the big cowboy and the small
child in the Cookie Monster pajamas, rocking slowly in the old rocking chair.
Preston started reading. Belle edged her way toward the door, thinking she would
just go stand in the hall, let it be a moment between Preston and his newfound
son—but be ready in case they needed her again.

But Ben stiffened. “Belle. No.” He reached out a little hand.
Preston looked at her pleadingly.

So she went and sat beside them on the rug. Preston continued
with the story of what trucks do at night when no one is watching.

Ben was asleep by page ten. Still, Preston turned the pages and
read on to the end. After that, he just sat there, holding the sleeping child,
rocking gently, for several minutes more. Belle waited, cross-legged on the
floor, not wanting to move and ruin the mood of quiet contentment that seemed to
have settled over the room like a cozy, soft blanket.

Finally, Preston whispered, “Look at these hands....” He had
one of Ben’s hands. The plump little fingers were curled loosely around his
index finger. “Amazing.”

Quietly, with care, Belle unfolded her legs and rose. “Yes,
they are. Amazing.”

“I never knew....” With his thumb, he caressed the small hand
wrapped around his finger. “I kind of thought all this had somehow passed me
by.”

“Surprise,” she said very softly.

He tipped his head up. In those blue eyes, she saw real wonder.
“I had so much to do, goals for the ranch, for my horses. I never had time for
meeting a woman, getting to know her, going on dates, all that. Then, a few
years back, I decided I was going to have to...get busy or I would never have a
family. Lucy...did I mention Lucy?”

“You mentioned a fiancée.” And the woman at the feed store had
said her name was Lucy.

“Lucy Saunders. That was her maiden name.”

Belle gave him a slow nod, standing there above him, thinking
she could stand there forever, watching him gently rocking Ben, listening to his
low, murmured words.

He said, “Lucy worked at the diner back then. She...flirted
with me. One day I just asked her if she wanted to go out to dinner. She said
yes. I decided right then that she would be the one. It was a practical decision
to me. I’d decided I needed a wife and I wanted to get on with it. I didn’t want
to waste any time about it.”

Belle almost laughed. She put her hand over her mouth. “Oh,
Preston. That’s terrible.”

He put a finger to his lips to warn her not to wake the child.
And then he confessed, still whispering, “I know. I mean, I can see that now.
And as I already mentioned, it didn’t work out. Really got me down when she
dumped me. More because it hurt my pride and messed up my plans for a family
than anything else—and I can see in those big eyes of yours that you think it
was all my fault.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you were thinking it—and maybe you’re right. But anyway, I
decided then that I was no good with women and probably I shouldn’t even
try.”

“Trust me, Preston. You’re good with women.”

He gazed up at her for a long time. She had a delicious and
dangerous sensation of heat and weakness low in her belly. “It’s different,” he
said at last. “With you. You’re not like other women.”

“Yes, I am.”

He shook his head. “You’re not like any woman I’ve ever known.
You’re special. You’re even a princess. We don’t get a lot of princesses here in
Elk Creek.”

“I’m a woman, like any woman.” She was watching his mouth,
thinking how very simple it would be to bend down, to fit her mouth to his, to
share his breath, to taste the slick, hot flesh beyond his lips.

“You ought not to look at me like that, Belle. It’s dangerous.
For both of us.”

She knew he was right. And hadn’t they already been through
this that very afternoon up in the attic?

So what? I don’t care. There’s a little
slice of heaven here, and I want it. No matter the price...

He had his face tipped up to her, and the look in his eyes said
he knew exactly what she had in mind, that he wasn’t going to refuse her if she
just couldn’t help herself....

Oh, she was hopeless. Hopeless and she knew it. She was acting
like some lovesick youngster with a first crush. Swearing off kisses in the
afternoon, and then ready to fall into his arms just a few hours later. But so
what? Her heart and her mind were at odds. Right now, her mind was
not
winning.

One kiss—one
more
kiss. How much
could that hurt?

Breathless, yearning, not even caring how silly and contrary
she was being, she started to bend down to him.

Ben came to her rescue by stirring, whining a little, shaking
his head.

Belle jerked upright again and smoothed her hair, although she
hadn’t done anything to muss it. Yet. “We should put him to bed....”

“I guess we should.” There was humor beneath the words. And a
certain roughness that told her he’d wanted to kiss her, too.

Carefully, gathering Ben close, he rose. He carried the
sleeping child over to the crib and laid him down in it. Ben didn’t stir again.
Preston pulled up the blankets and smoothed them over him. And then they tiptoed
from the room, turning off the light, but leaving the door open.

Preston took her arm gently and said in that low, quiet voice
meant for her ears alone. “Okay. Now I suppose you can kiss me if you really,
really want to.”

She stifled a laugh. “You are incorrigible.”

“I told you. I’m no good with women.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then suppose you tell me what you did mean?”

Oh, she was tempted. But no. “Suppose we just...let it be?
Suppose we forget how foolishly I’ve been behaving, and just go downstairs and
help Charlotte and Silas with the tree I insisted you
had
to have?”

He regarded her, suddenly solemn. And then he asked in a
neutral tone, “Is that what you really want?”

No, it’s not. Not what I really want at
all.
“Yes, please.”

He gestured her ahead of him. “All right, then. Let’s go.”

* * *

The five of them worked on the tree until ten. Then
Marcus said good-night. Belle, Charlotte, Preston and Silas kept at it until
after midnight. There were still more Christmas treasures to hang. Preston’s
mother had collected some beautiful ornaments. And there were acres of fancy red
bead garland to put on the tree once all the ornaments were hung. And
old-fashioned icicles, too.

Belle hadn’t really appreciated what a big job it was, to
decorate a home for the holidays. After all, in Montedoro, at the Prince’s
Palace and at her villa, there were professional decorators and servants who did
most of the work. Belle and her family would help out a little, hanging a
favorite ornament here and there, but mostly supervising, making certain the end
result pleased them.

At the McCade ranch house, they all had to pitch in or the
Christmas decorating wouldn’t get done. Belle thought that was a good thing.
There was satisfaction in the accomplishment, a feeling of ownership, that one
had worked hard creating something festive and beautiful for everyone to
enjoy.

They agreed they would finish the following night—or at least
try to. Charlotte said she would make what progress she could on the tree while
looking after Ben the next morning. And tomorrow in the afternoon, if it wasn’t
too cold out, she and Silas would go to work on the outside lights.

There were still groups of figurines to adorn mantels and
tabletops. There were boxes full of garland to string along the staircase
banister.

“Little by little,” Charlotte said. “It’s weeks yet until
Christmas.”

“Two to be precise,” Belle reminded her.

Charlotte laughed in that light, happy way that was so new to
her. “We’ll do what we can. What we feel like doing. There’s no law that says we
have to use every beautiful ornament in every one of these boxes.”

Belle said good-night and climbed the stairs. In her room, she
shut the door and sat on her bed and wished she had kissed Preston more than
once in the attic, that she had kissed him in Ben’s room that night and in the
upstairs hall the night before....

She wished she had kissed him every chance she got, and she
knew it was wiser that she hadn’t.

Honestly, she needed to get a firm grip on her own emotions.
Tomorrow, she would be with him all morning and probably into the afternoon as
they shopped for bedding and curtains to brighten up Ben’s room. And then they
would return to the ranch, where she would see him constantly, where it was her
job to take every opportunity to make him and Ben more comfortable with each
other.

She had to face it. She was going to be around Preston a whole
lot in the coming weeks. She had better decide how to behave and then show a
little consistency about it.

Outside in the upper hall, she heard footsteps. Preston.
Already, she knew his steady, measured tread. She heard him go into his room and
shut the door.

And she longed to get up and go to him. To ask him to please,
please kiss her again. To beg him to hold her close in his big arms and tell her
all the ways she was different from other women. Tell her that she was
special.

And when he’d finished telling her how wonderful she was, he
could kiss her some more. He could do a lot more than kiss her....

Belle groaned and buried her face in her hands.

She needed a friend. A confidante. Right now, this very moment.
Maybe Charlotte had come upstairs without her hearing. She went to the door and
quietly opened it.

Across the hall, Charlotte’s door stood wide. Her bed was
neatly made. One of her favorite scarves, of lavender-colored wool, lay thrown
across the foot of it. No sign of Charlotte. The bathroom door next to her room
stood open, too.

From downstairs, faintly, she heard a woman laugh—Charlotte.
And then a man’s deep chuckle in response—Silas.

So then, Charlotte was still down there with Preston’s father,
laughing in that new, light, carefree way of hers, no doubt sharing warm,
teasing looks with a man she’d met only two mornings before.

And it wasn’t that Belle begrudged her dear friend a little
romance. She didn’t. Not at all. She only wished Charlotte would come upstairs
so that Belle could confess to her what a complete idiot she was thinking about
being with Preston.

Belle ducked back into her room and shut the door.

Between Montana and Montedoro, there was an eight-hour time
difference. That meant it would be almost nine in the morning there.

Would her sister-in-law Lili be up yet? Were Lili and Alex even
in Montedoro now?

Belle had always felt she could tell Lili anything. When they
were growing up, Lili visited Montedoro often. Lili’s mother and Belle’s mother
had been close friends. Lili was as much a sister to her as her own four
sisters, as Anne had been.

She got out her cell phone, but then hesitated to call. Most
likely Lili and Alex were in Lili’s country, Alagonia, by now. Lili was due to
have her twins within the month and she would want her heir to be born in
Alagonia.

And the more Belle considered calling Lili, the more certain
she became that wherever Lili was right now, she would be with Alex, perhaps
having breakfast, or even lingering in bed. Alex had always been the gruff and
brooding one in the family. He was much easier to be around now that he had
Lili. But still, Belle felt uncomfortable at the idea of discussing her
forbidden desire for the rancher down the hall with one of her brothers
listening in.

So she called Rhiannon. Rhia, who lived on her own not from the
palace, was sixth born of Belle’s siblings. Their four brothers were born first.
Then Belle, Rhia, Alice, Genny and Rory.

Rhia was an expert on art and antiquities. She worked at the
National Museum of Montedoro, advising on acquisitions, overseeing the
restoration of the art treasures of centuries.

And she answered the phone on the first ring. “Belle, I’m glad
you called. I’ve been wondering how things are going with Ben,
with...everything.”

Her sister’s voice warmed her, made her feel a little
misty-eyed, too. “Oh, Rhia. It’s been such a difficult time.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I take it you made it home safe and sound.” Most of the family
had come to Raleigh for Anne’s funeral. They’d all known Anne and been fond of
her. In the summers during the years they were at Duke together, Anne would
often come and stay in Montedoro.