Read The Cowboy and the Princess Online

Authors: Myrna MacKenzie

Tags: #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Romance: Modern, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Romance - Contemporary, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #Western, #Ranchers, #Princesses, #Ranches

The Cowboy and the Princess (8 page)

BOOK: The Cowboy and the Princess
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“I—you were right. I can’t,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

Owen froze. He eased back. “No. I’m sorry. I should never have touched you, Delfyne. The fact that I did…that’s inexcusable under the circumstances. Andreus asked me to protect and watch over you. I stepped over the line.”

Despite her own misgivings, his words appalled her. “I’m an adult, Owen. My mistakes are my own.”

He opened his mouth. She placed her palm over his lips. “I don’t care what task Andreus assigned you. What happens between you and me has nothing to do with Andreus.”

“All right then, there are a whole lot of other reasons why I shouldn’t have been kissing you.”

“Agreed.” She backed off and gazed up at him, her arms crossed. “But I get to take half the credit.”

He frowned.

She gave him a look she had been trained to give since birth, the one that brooked no argument. She was a royal and she knew how to get her way.

To her consternation, Owen only smiled. “Nice try,” he said. “But I suddenly seem to be impervious to commands. I was always stubborn.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Sometimes it has been.” And something dark appeared in his eyes, something she didn’t want to ask him about because she knew he blamed himself for many things.

“How about a simple request, then?” she asked. “I’ve been kept under wraps for much of my life. I need to feel like an adult, to take credit for my own actions now and then.”

He groaned. “That’s the kind of request I can’t refuse. I understand what you mean all too well.”

She smiled. “All right. We’ll watch ourselves from now on. Now, I should get back to work.”

Slowly, he shook his head. “
I
have a request,” he said. “Fair is fair.”

Uh-oh. For some reason, that didn’t sound good. But Delfyne waited.

“When you first came here, you told me that you wanted to do everything and that’s why you were playing maid at last night’s party. But no matter what your motivation or mine, I know that Andreus meant this summer to be a positive experience for you. Just because he didn’t want to let you go off alone doesn’t mean he wanted you to have a less than wonderful summer. If you’re going to be in Montana, you shouldn’t be kept hidden away serving food to people and having no other life. We’ve introduced you as a working guest on a ranch vacation. If you’re a guest, you should do more than just work. You can do other things without revealing that you’re a princess.”

His brows were drawn together as if he wasn’t quite sure where he was going next with this line of thought.

“What are you suggesting?” she asked.

“A night on the town.”

“Won’t that attract attention after last night?”

“Delfyne, I think you’re going to attract attention no matter what.”

She thought about that. “All right. What will we do?”

Owen shrugged. “There’s a dinner and a dance at the Hall, a local watering hole with a view that’s not to be missed. If you’re going to visit Montana, you should at least witness that view. So we’ll eat, we’ll talk, we’ll let someone else worry about the olives.”

“Ah, the olives again. That really bothered you, didn’t it?”

He clearly wasn’t going to answer that one. “Are you going to make me beg?”

She couldn’t hold back her smile. “Might be fun.”

His expression hinted at exasperation. He looked like a big cat, as if he wanted to start pacing in his cage. Delfyne knew this wasn’t easy for him. She’d heard that he pretty much never socialized. If he was going out on the town, he was doing it for her. And darn it, she was going to see a part of the world she hadn’t yet seen.

“No begging. I’m going,” she said. “I’m holding you to your word. A night on the town and a good view.”

“It’s a deal.”

Delfyne could barely conceal her excitement at this unexpected turn of events. “What should I wear?”

He gave her a big grin. “Bracelets.” And then he walked right out the door.

Well, the man was certainly insufferable. But a part of her was bubbling up inside. Owen didn’t treat her like a princess. He didn’t let her social standing prevent him from treating her like a normal woman.

Even if he was constantly aware of who and what she was. And so was she.

The barriers were still there and always would be.

“But not for tonight,” she whispered. Tonight she would go out on the town as a regular woman on the arm of a tall, handsome cowboy who made her whole body react in a completely improper, unprincess-like manner.

CHAPTER EIGHT

O
WEN
hadn’t been to the Hall in more months than he could remember. Maybe it had been years. Probably it had. For the past few years, ever since James had died and Faye had left, he had thrown himself into the ranch and into making money. Neither ranching nor investing were easy ventures, but the intricacies of foul weather, transient employees and the ever-changing stock market had been low-stress challenges compared to walking into the Hall with Delfyne and trying to pretend that the woman on his arm was no big deal.

She was stunningly beautiful in a plain ivory sheath with some sort of halter top that bared her shoulders. Her dark hair was pulled back, thickly braided and looped in a satiny style that emphasized the beauty of her long neck and lent credence to the school of thought that assumed every princess was born beautiful and poised and graceful. Tiny pearl teardrops were at her ears, but at her wrists, in a brazen denial of her station, the pearls on her bracelet were separated by miniature red and somewhat gaudy ceramic roses. A two-inch chain with a rose attached dangled from the catch. Owen tried not to think about removing that bracelet with his teeth.

He had to put those kinds of thoughts to rest completely now that he knew how little self-control he had around her. His job
tonight was to make sure she had a wonderful evening and that no one read too much into her being here with him.

That one, he knew, might prove problematic. They were barely five feet into the room when he knew he was right. He saw Nate Hawkins nudge the man next to him and the two of them turned around and stared. At Delfyne.

And then Nate smiled. He gave Owen a “just between us men” thumbs-up sign that made Owen bristle. There was no way he wanted Nate to get the wrong idea or to indulge in public speculation that Delfyne was sharing Owen’s sheets.

A slow thudding ache began to form behind Owen’s eyes. He glanced down at Delfyne, who was smiling up at him. “Relax,” she said, placing her hand on his arm. “
I’m
fine, in case you’re worried, but
you
look very tense.”

“I want this to go well for you.”

“It will. Is that the gorgeous view you told me about? It was pretty from outside, but seen through windows framed in all that golden pine makes each view look like a fabulous photograph.” She slipped her hand down his arm and pulled him toward one of the windows at the back of the restaurant.

“Hey, Owen!” someone called to him.

“Owen, it’s good to see you. Introduce us to your lady,” another someone called followed by a wild whoop.

Owen didn’t stop. He called out hellos and motioned that he would introduce Delfyne later as he followed her toward the center window. Even though it was still light outside, the sun was sinking, and brilliant gold and red tints colored the earth and painted the mountaintops.

“Owen, it’s so terribly beautiful. Achingly so. Why didn’t Andreus ever tell me about this?”

He certainly didn’t intend to mention that when her brother had been here just after college, he’d been at an age when he was
most concerned with drinking and women followed by more drinking and women. And on his last trip, he’d been more concerned with helping Owen than taking in the scenery. “Maybe he wanted you to see it for yourself,” he said. Which could also be the truth.

Delfyne laughed. “You’re being diplomatic. If my memory serves me well, and I think it does, he more than likely spent his time here spreading the Andreus love around and sampling your wine and beer. I’m just glad that I got to see your Montana for myself. Thank you so much for bringing me here.”

“Hey, Owen. What’s up? What are you hiding over here for? Come on and introduce me to this gorgeous creature.” The super-gruff voice came from Owen’s right on the other side of Delfyne, and Owen didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

“Delfyne, this is Angus Watts. He owns the ranch beyond mine. Delfyne is my guest for the summer, Angus. She’s the sister of a friend.”

Angus nodded thoughtfully. “Pleased to meet you,” he said to Delfyne. “Owen, you should know that Molly and Martin are buzzing about Delfyne. Martin’s been talking about her stirring up those people from Lambert and how their attitude ticked you off. Lots of questions flying around, including how you and Delfyne are…well, I do beg your pardon about all the gossip, Delfyne,” he said, bowing slightly to her. “But Owen here is practically a hermit. Any woman who talks him out of his shell is going to cause a stir. And when that woman is a beautiful stranger who serves drinks one day and shows up in a knockout dress as the sister of an old friend the next, well…mosquitoes and the people of Bigsby will buzz. Molly even said that dress doesn’t look like a knockoff, whatever that means.”

Owen growled. He opened his mouth to speak, but Delfyne let out a delicious laugh that stopped him cold. “Oh, about that
dinner the other night,” she said with a smile. “Owen was indulging me by letting me act out a part for a few hours. It’s silly, I know, but that’s a job I’d never had the chance to experience, so I bullied Owen into letting me play dress-up for the night. It was an enlightening experience. I hope that I did my job well.”

For half a second Angus stared like a besotted bull. Then he grinned and shook his head. “Acting? Oh, pretty lady, I’m sure you were positively wonderful,” Angus said, causing Owen to stare at him sharply. Angus’s eyes were locked on Delfyne, and Owen could read all the signs too clearly. Already his neighbor was enchanted with Delfyne.

“Positively wonderful,” Owen drawled, and for half a second, steadfast Angus blushed red and looked embarrassed at his words.

“As a matter of fact, I was probably just okay. I think I must drive Owen nuts,” she said.

Angus laughed. “Lucky Owen. I can’t believe you talked him into a game of pretend. That’s not like Owen at all.”

Because Angus was right, and also because Owen didn’t want to examine that fact too closely, he decided it was time to move to a new topic. “Thank you for warning us about the buzz, Angus,” Owen told his friend. “I’ll talk to Martin.”

“That’s good. Talk to Molly, too. You know how she likes to be queen of the town. She’s going to feel hurt if she thinks you’re keeping her in the dark.”

“No,” Delfyne said. “I’m the one who was responsible for the charade, so I’m the one who has to clear the air.”

“That’s not necessary,” Owen said.

“Yes, it is. I don’t regret getting to step outside myself, but Angus is right. I didn’t even think about the ramifications of my game. And no one knows better than I how wrong and hurtful deceit and trickery can be.” There was something in her voice, something pained and sad and defeated.

“What do you mean by that?”

But she shook her head. “I’m going to talk to Molly right now.” She turned to go.

“Oh yeah, and you better head off Nancy,” Angus told Owen. “She might need time to adjust to you being here with a new woman.”

Immediately Owen felt Delfyne turn to him. “A woman upset with you? I…Am I going to cause trouble with you and your girlfriend?” she asked, and Owen could have slugged Angus.

“Nancy’s not Owen’s girlfriend, but she really wanted to be,” Angus began before Owen held his hand up to cut him off.

“She’s an old friend,” Owen said. And that much was true. Whatever had or had not gone on between him and Nancy, she didn’t deserve to be criticized unless the criticism was going to go both ways. She’d been a good friend to him and it wasn’t her fault that he hadn’t been capable of giving her all that she needed.

“Should you…go see her?” Delfyne asked. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

“I’ll stay with Delfyne,” Angus volunteered. “I’ll even help her locate Martin and Molly.”

Owen gave his friend a long look. “You’re certainly feeling chatty and sociable tonight, aren’t you?”

“That I am,” Angus agreed, looking at Delfyne with more than casual interest. Well, why not? Owen had introduced Delfyne as a guest and the sister of a friend. Nothing personal about it. No reason why Angus shouldn’t be interested.

Except she’s a princess. She’s not available to anyone
, he wanted to shout. But that couldn’t be spread about. It was going to be a long evening of fending off men who wanted to meet Delfyne, Owen realized as he saw Nate coming at them from the left.

Suddenly he wanted her to himself. “Talk will have to wait for later. Do you dance?” Owen asked Delfyne suddenly.

She blinked.

“Yeah, that was probably a stupid question,” Owen agreed. “You dance, of course. Maybe a better question is, would you dance with me now?” He gestured toward a small dance floor at the opposite side of the room.

“I—I love to dance,” she stammered, “but there’s no music.”

Owen didn’t care. He didn’t want to wait any longer. His simple plan to take Delfyne out had backfired, and now there were hurt feelings and a room full of curious onlookers. Nate was closing in, and Owen finally saw Nancy sitting at the bar. Even though she was here with a cowboy Owen didn’t know, she had a look in her eye that could mean only one thing. Any minute now, she would swoop in and when she did…well, Nancy liked to ask a lot of questions. As a woman who had been lied to a lot by her ex-husband, she prided herself on being able to sense when a person was lying. Why take chances about her discovering “the rest of the story” about Delfyne?

Besides, he wasn’t in the mood for any more explanations, and he had learned long ago that Nancy demanded a lot more of those close to her than he felt comfortable providing. She was a friend. At one time she had been more than a friend, but she didn’t believe in boundaries or privacy or closed doors and he had far too many closed doors to please her. That hadn’t stopped her from trying to pick the lock to his most private thoughts. Delfyne, with her open ways and sudden need to spill her guts for fear of hurting someone’s feelings, would be a prime target for Nancy’s inquisitiveness.

Moreover, he just plain old didn’t want to fend off any more men ogling Delfyne and he didn’t want to have to go through the motions of calling her his “guest” again. Truth to tell, he was beginning to dislike the word
guest
almost as much as he disliked the word
maid
.

“Jukebox,” he explained. He took Delfyne’s hand and started leading her toward the dance floor. He tossed Angus some change. “Play something slow,” he said.

Not because he wanted to hold Delfyne in his arms, he told himself, but because he was pretty sure she wouldn’t know any country steps, and country was pretty much all that the Hall had.

The waltzlike tune Angus picked wasn’t exactly what Owen had in mind, but it made it easy to swirl Delfyne into the dance and into his arms. Just as he predicted, she was an accomplished dancer. A ballerina. A complete and true princess, born to the role.

And he was a liar of a man who was pretending she was simply his guest while wishing he could pull her closer. He was dancing with her in front of a whole crowd who knew darn well he was a man who no longer believed in tomorrow or forever. And Delfyne was a woman whose tomorrows were already claimed.

This dance had just been an impulse, an escape, but as he looked down into her eyes, her expression grew soft and warm.

“Your friends are really concerned for you,” she said. “They look out for you. That says something good about you.”

“They just want to meet you.”

“Well, that’s okay. A new face is always interesting, but this interest in how you and I are matched up is more than you think. I heard some people whispering. They said that they didn’t want you to get mixed up with an interloper and outsider again. It was clear that they thought you’d been treated unfairly.”

He shook his head. “They’re just speculating. They don’t know the whole truth about what went on with Faye. I do.”

He pulled her closer and felt her nod. “Well, you may be right,” she said. “Things aren’t always as they seem to the outside world, are they?”

How very right she was. Right now everyone saw her as a
stranger who had some peculiar habits. They saw her as another woman who could bewitch him again and leave him raw and wounded when she finally left. As she would.

But they didn’t know the half of it. And maybe neither did he.

 

Delfyne didn’t know whether to be amused or alarmed at the way she felt both comfortable and yet excited at the feel of Owen’s arms around her. She finally settled on alarm. It would be wrong and stupid for her to get used to having Owen’s arms around her, to start longing for his touch. But she knew he had his reasons for keeping her on the dance floor, so when the song ended, she held out her hand.

“May I choose the next one?”

He gave her some coins with a smile that turned his eyes sexy and warm. “The music is mostly country.”

“But good music is good music.”

She motioned for him to follow her to the jukebox, but his presence behind her was disarming. His warmth was so close, the scent of him made her dizzy and when he spoke, he bent toward her, his lips just a whisper away from her ear, his body almost enfolding her.

Faintness threatened.

“Do you need help?” he asked her.

Oh yes, she definitely needed help.
But if she asked for it, he might come closer still. She might make a total fool of herself in front of this whole crowd. Without looking, she pressed some buttons. Within seconds, loud, fast music flowed from the machine.

Delfyne didn’t know the tune, but it had a driving rhythm. “Come on. I like this,” she said, pulling Owen to the dance floor and starting to move to the music.

To her consternation, he didn’t budge an inch.

“Owen?”

“I’m not really much of a dancer, at least not freestyle,” he told her.

“Well then, we don’t have to dance freestyle. You show me what to do Montana-style. Or we can just pretend this is a waltz and dance really fast. We can turn it into a polka or a jitterbug or even a rhumba.” She laughed and grabbed his hand, twirling and curtsying.

BOOK: The Cowboy and the Princess
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