The Prince's Texas Bride (10 page)

“He can skip me,” she said, stepping backward.

At that moment, Stefan looked up and caught sight of her. And Nic Lafitte. His jaw hardened for a second, and Eve was hoping he would just ignore her. She didn't want to talk to him in this setting. It was surreal and disturbing to her.

Stefan clearly had other ideas as he made a quick comment to his aide and stepped toward her. Eve felt her palms grow damp.

“Ms. Jackson, I wasn't aware you were attending,” Stefan said, extending his hand.

She accepted it and gave a little dip that she hoped resembled a curtsy. “Your Highness, Princess Bridget invited me.”

“I haven't seen you all evening,” he said.

“You've been busy taking care of your—guests,” she said, forcing a smile.

He lifted an eyebrow, then turned at Nic. “Thank you for your contributions to Chantaine,” he said.

“I consider it my honor and responsibility, Your
Highness. After all, my family has a history with Chantaine. A lovely event tonight, made even lovelier by the presence of Ms. Jackson.”

Eve looked at Nic like he was a wack job.
Lovely.
She glanced back at Stefan and noticed that he was clenching his jaw. Interesting, she thought.

“I'm glad you enjoyed the evening. I'll be in touch later,” he said to Eve and held her gaze for three seconds before he turned away.

Eve felt as if she'd been scorched and couldn't move.

“Are you sure you're just the stable master?” Nic asked.

“Of course I'm the stable master,” she said, praying her face wasn't as red with heat as she thought it was. “Do I look like I could be anything else?”

Nic looked at her for a moment. “You look as if you could be a queen.”

“Now I know you're full of it,” she said. “I'm going to bed. Have a nice night.”

“Are you sure I can't join you?”

“Not in a million years,” she said.

“Princess Bridget scared you off,” he said.

“It's not that,” she said.

“Hmm,” he said as if he knew too much.

“Find another girl. I'm sure you won't have a problem. Good night,” she said and headed toward Bridget.

She found the princess standing next to Agnes, a physical example of feminine perfection. Bridget turned to her and beamed. “Eve, meet Agnes. Agnes, this is Eve. She's Stefan's new stable master, and we all adore her.”

Agnes smiled, revealing perfectly white teeth that
matched every other perfect part of her. “Good evening. You like horses?”

“Yes, thank you, Agnes. Nice to meet you. Your Highness,” she said to Bridget, “I'm headed home. Thank you for inviting me.”

Bridget pouted. “So soon.” She bussed Eve with a kiss on the cheek. “I'll see you tomorrow or the next day. Ciao, Eve.”

“Ciao,” Eve murmured, and then headed for the door. She picked up the hem of her dress and ran down the hall toward the foyer. Opening the front door, she stepped outside and debated pulling off her shoes.

The chauffeur pulled up to the curb. “Ms. Jackson, would you like a ride to your quarters?”

“Thank you,” she said. “That would be wonderful.”

The chauffeur stepped outside and helped her into the car. “Did you have a good evening?” he asked.

“Hmm,” she said in a noncommittal tone. “I can't wait to get back to my room.” She climbed into the car and sank her head against the seat, closing her eyes. What a mistake. She should have never gone tonight. There had been so many times when she hadn't felt as if she'd fit in, and this evening was just one more.

It seemed like only seconds passed and the chauffeur pulled to a stop. “I'll escort you to the door, ma'am,” he said.

Eve pulled herself together and stepped from the vehicle. “Thank you,” she said and went upstairs to her second-story apartment. Walking inside, she kicked off her shoes and sank onto the sofa. Images of Agnes, the countess and Stefan flashed through her mind like a slide show. She groaned, willing her disturbing thoughts aside. “Never again,” she told herself, pushing herself
to stand. Maybe a shower would wash the night from her head so she could sleep in peace.

A knock sounded on her door and she frowned. Who? At this time of night? The knock sounded again. Scurrying to the door, she stared out the peephole and saw Stefan standing impatiently.

She immediately flung open the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Good evening to you, too,” he said, walking inside and closing the door behind him. “Did you enjoy your time with Lafitte?”

“Not particularly,” she said “I mean, he was nice enough and he definitely has an interesting backstory.”

“Eve,” he said, and she noticed he was clenching his jaw.

“And he wasn't surrounded by two beautiful women vying for his attention and willing to do anything to marry him.”

“I didn't invite either of those women,” he said.

“Either would be perfect for
the job
,” she said, crossing her arms over chest.

“I'm not marrying either of those women,” he said.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I will make the ultimate decision and I refuse to give up my relationship with you for a wife I don't love.”

Eve blinked. She hadn't expected that. “This thing between us is crazy,” she said. “Pure crazy.”

He pulled her into his arms. “I can't disagree, but I just found you and I'm not giving you up.”

His words made her heart turn over at the same time that she knew she couldn't be what he ultimately needed. “You have duties. I can't be your princess.”

“Shut up,” he said. “Just for tonight,” he asked more than ordered. “Shut up and let me make love to you.”

Eve did, and Stefan took her to the top of the world, but when she awakened, she was alone. She tried not to overthink her relationship with him, but there was a part of her that hated the fact that they had to do everything in secret. They couldn't even eat a meal together because a photog would take pictures and draw conclusions. In this case, the conclusion would be correct.

She wondered if Stefan should be choosing a wife, a woman who could meet his needs as a friend, lover and a representative of Chantaine. She worried if such a combination of a woman existed. In quiet moments, she feared that woman did and would steal Stefan's heart. But how could his heart be stolen if it didn't truly belong to her?

Shut up,
she told herself.
Just for this short time, let yourself love him….

 

Three mornings later, she awakened to the sight of him pacing in front of her. He had persuaded her to stay the night in his quarters.

“Repeat that,” he said, then stopped dead just in front of his bed. “It's not possible,” he said after several moments. “It's
not
possible.”

He began to pace again, dressed in pajama bottoms and nothing else. “I always used protection.” Eve blinked.
Whoa. Protection?

“I demand a DNA test,” Stefan said and then listened for another moment. “What do you mean there's already been a DNA test? How is that possible? I want a second one, and I want it done by the best labs in existence. We'll talk later,” he said and then turned off his phone, staring blankly at the wall.

Moments later, he turned and met her gaze. “I assume you heard the conversation,” he said.

“I heard the words
protection
and
DNA test
,” she said, pulling the sheet over her as she sat up in bed. “Kinda an explosive combination,” she said with a giggle bubbling from her throat.

He glared at her in astonishment.

“Sorry,” she said, but another giggle escaped. She slapped her hand over her mouth, ripped the sheet loose and got out of bed. “I really am sorry. I'm nervous. That's why I'm reacting this way. Who is the child? Who is the mother?”

“The mother is Maja, the model I dated a couple years ago. Days after we broke off our relationship, she hooked up with that French billionaire. According to the press, he was the father of her child.” He paused a took a half breath. “A daughter named Stephenia. She's not quite two.”

Eve's heart twisted in sympathy. “Oh, she's just a baby. Why are they calling you now?”

“Maja and her husband died in a speed-boating accident,” he said. “Maja didn't leave a proper guardian in her will. She left only a confidential note that I was the baby's father. Maja's husband never put the baby in his will.”

“Oh, no,” Eve said, shaking her head. “That poor child. You must bring her here immediately.”

Stefan stared at her in disbelief. “I don't even know if she's truly my child. I need to hear the DNA confirmation—”

“But it sounds like they've already done a DNA test,” Eve said.

“One,” Stefan said. “For something this important, I insist on a confirmation. Plus, I need to consider what's
best for the child and the royal family. In the past, the advisers have always insisted that an illegitimate child be raised away from the palace.”

Eve dropped her jaw. “You must be joking. You're going to have a toddler raised by a nanny in Timbuktu so she doesn't tarnish the Devereaux name?”

“You have no right to accuse or criticize. There's been no decision made,” he said.

“This isn't about accusing or criticizing. This is about doing what's right. Figure it out yourself, Your Royal Highly
Father
ness.” She dropped her sheet and went to pull on her clothes.

“Eve,” he said as she buttoned her shirt.

She met his gaze and saw a world of torment in his eyes.

“I'm not prepared to be a father,” he said.

“Most men aren't,” she said. “The difference is you have a whole crew of advisers and you can hire a couple nannies.”

“And you?”

She frowned at him in confusion. “How would this change my feelings for you?”

“I don't know. You tell me,” he said.

“The only way this would change my feelings is if you neglected or abandoned your child. And I don't think you're capable of either of those.”

“This will be a PR nightmare. The high-ranking officials who have lobbied against me will be cheering,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair.

“Or not,” she said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“A few pics of you with the new little princess and anyone who criticizes you will be regarded as a bully,” she said. “Just a warning, though. The pics will be easy.
Being a father is going to be the tough part.” Taking in the shocked expression on his face, she moved closer and touched his hand. “I think you have the right stuff,” she said.

He gave a short laugh without humor. “Me?”

“Yes, you. You know the kind of father you
don't
want to be. Maybe that will point you in the direction of the father you
do
want to be.”

S
tefan checked his watch for the tenth time in five minutes. The plane carrying his daughter had landed, and she would arrive shortly. The plan was for Stephenia to be brought to his quarters. He glanced at the time again and paced his office.

A moment later, his phone vibrated with a text message. The limo carrying his daughter was approaching the palace. Unable to wait a moment longer, he swept out of the office and descended two flights of stairs. Nodding absently to the staff he saw along the way, he came to a stop in the lobby.

Taking a deep breath, he waited for what felt like an eternity. The front door opened and one of his security staff escorted in a very young woman holding a tiny girl with a head full of dark ringlets and her thumb securely fastened into her mouth. Her eyes were wide as she cautiously surveyed her surroundings.

“Your Highness,” the guard said with a bow.

“Thank you,” Stefan said and moved closer.

“This is Hilda. She has been Stephenia's caretaker for the last two months,” the guard said.

“Hello, Hilda,” Stefan said to the young woman.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she said, and then she jostled Stephenia. “Stephie,” she whispered. “This is your daddy. Say hello.”

Stephenia looked at him then buried her head in Hilda's shoulder.

“She's a little shy and tired,” Hilda said, giving Stephenia another nudge. “Come on, baby. This is your daddy,” she said, then moved as if she planned to place Stephenia into Stefan's arms.

Stefan froze.

Stephenia let out a blood-curdling yell of terror.

Stefan lifted his hand. “Perhaps she'd like something to eat and a nap. One of the staff can take you both to the nursery.”

As the child continued to scream down the hallway, Stefan wondered what in hell he'd been thinking. This baby knew nothing of him. When she looked at him, she was frightened, and rightfully so. He didn't know what to do with a two-year-old little girl. When he'd first seen her, she'd looked so innocent, so angelic. She looked like she'd needed to be protected and he'd been determined to protect her.

When she'd opened her mouth, however, he'd wondered if she was an alien. Part of him
still
wondered. How could anything so small produce such a loud, horrendous noise?

He shook his head. Now he understood why his father and predecessors had kept their illegitimate children off-site. Hell, if all children shrieked like that, it was a
wonder his parents had allowed any children to grow up in the palace. Of course, he'd had a slew of nannies to take care of him before he'd been shipped off to boarding school.

Eve had painted a lovely visual of possibilities of Stefan with his new daughter, but as her screams vibrated off the marble floors, he wondered why his daughter would be willing to let him hold her, let alone take a picture with her. At this point, Stefan suspected it would be years before that happened.

 

“She's a screamer,” Stefan announced to Eve. “My daughter is a screamer.”

Eve bit her lip to keep from laughing. Stefan was perplexed. He also clearly had little experience with toddlers. “Most toddlers scream,” she said, rubbing his back in a soothing motion.

“She screamed when she thought I was going to hold her,” he confessed. “It wasn't a good first meeting.”

“Well, she'd just flown halfway across Europe to an unfamiliar place. Her mother is nowhere in sight. I'm sure she was tired and frightened. No one is at their best when they're frightened. You have to give it a second try. Actually, since she's your daughter, you have to give it infinite tries.”

“I'm giving it another try in a few minutes. Would you join me?” he asked.

Surprised, she studied him, then nodded. “Sure. What's the plan?”

He gave her a blank look. “We'll go to the nursery.”

“Okay,” she said, then clapped her hands together. “This is going to go better than the first meeting. I can feel it.”

Moments later they entered the nursery where Stephenia was holding a blanket and sucking her thumb as she pushed on a playboard with a spinner, a noisy flashing button and other features fascinating to a two-year-old. Hilda sat on the other side of the room, overseeing the tyke.

Both Stephenia and Hilda looked up at the same time. The nanny stood. “Your Highness.”

Stephenia shot a hard glance at Stefan, then Eve, then back at Stefan.

Stalemate, Eve thought, and then moved toward the play area and sat down. She pulled off her hat and put it beside her as she picked up a book. Then she started to read a book. She read the first page, then turned it. Seconds later, Stephenia wandered closer, and Eve felt the toddler looking over her shoulder. Eve turned another page and Stephenia sat down next to her, her blanket still tossed over her shoulder, her thumb firmly in her mouth.

As Eve continued to read, Stephenia leaned against her. Eve read the rest of the book, and Stephenia sat for a moment. Then she reached for Eve's Stetson and placed it on her little head.

Eve smiled. “Are you a little cowgirl?” she asked.

Stephenia looked away shyly.

Stefan moved closer and Stephenia's eyes rounded. Glancing up at him, she stiffened. Her lower lip puckered out and her face crumpled. She began to scream and cry.

Meeting Eve's gaze, he shrugged and turned away. Eve reached for her hat and her hand slid over Stephenia's forehead. She frowned. The child was hot, too hot. “I think she might have a fever,” Eve said, slipping her
hand over the toddler's head again. Stephenia clutched the hat and screamed louder.

“What?” Stefan asked, turning back around.

“I hadn't noticed,” Hilda said, and then wrung her hands. “With all the change and excitement…”

“I'll arrange for the royal doctor immediately. Please stay with Stephenia,” he said to Eve, then left the room.

“You don't feel good, do you, sweetie?” Eve said, pulling the toddler into her lap. “Here, you can borrow the hat. What hurts, darlin'?”

Stephenia continued to moan and occasionally sob at a lower volume.

“I'm not sure I'm the best person for this job,” Hilda said. “I was just an assistant until the last few weeks, and I missed her fever. I think I should resign immediately.”

“Oh, no,” Eve said, her stomach twisting for Stephenia. “She's been through so much change. Please give it a little time.”

“But this island is so isolated and I have no friends or family here,” Hilda said.

“It's a beautiful island and not as isolated as you think. Wait a little bit before you make a decision. After things get more settled, you'll have another nanny working with you.”

“But ever since we arrived here, she cries with me, too,” Hilda said.

“Perfectly understandable if she's sick,” Eve said, stroking Stephenia's hair and trying to comfort her.

Hilda looked at the toddler doubtfully. “We'll see,” she said.

The door opened and a staff member poked her head through the door. “The doctor is here to see the baby.”

Within twenty screaming minutes, the doctor diagnosed Stephenia with an ear infection and administered a first dose of antibiotics. Tired out by the examination and her fit of pain and fear, Stephenia fell asleep in Hilda's arms.

Stefan and Eve returned to his quarters. They sank onto the sofa together.

“That was exhausting,” Stefan said. “I can't say it was better than yesterday.”

“At least you have an explanation for her behavior,” she said. “I bet you'd be cranky, too, if you had an earache.”

“Can't deny that,” he said, raking his hand through his hair. “Is it always going to be like this? When will she ever be more calm?”

Eve patted his hand. “Calm will come and go. A toddler is like the weather, sunshine one moment and stormy the next.”

“How do you know this?”

“I babysat children from infants to ten-year-olds,” she said. “Didn't you?” she asked, tongue in cheek.

“I can't say I did any official babysitting, but I have five younger siblings,” he said. “None of them were screamers.”

“That you know of,” she said. “Maybe you weren't around during the screaming stage.”

“Eve, what in hell am I going to do with this child?”

“Love her,” she said. “She'll eventually come around.”

“When she's twenty?” he asked in a dry tone.

“Oh, no, by then you'll drop at least a hundred IQ points, or so I hear,” she said.

Stefan groaned. “Good luck getting your hat back,” he said.

Eve laughed, remembering the way Stephenia had clutched her Stetson with a death grip during her entire examination. “Maybe you'll get her one of her own.”

“That can be arranged. How did you win her over so quickly?” he asked.

“It's not magic. You can sit on the floor and read a book, too. You're different for her. Your voice is deeper, you're taller and scary to her. You'll have a better chance of winning her over if you get down on her level.”

“I can't remember a time when my mother or father sat on the floor with me,” he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“You said you're going to do things differently,” she said.

He paused and nodded. “Perhaps,” he said. “Why does this suddenly seem so much more difficult than improving Chantaine's economy?”

She lifted her hand to his cheek and smiled. “Trust me. This is going to be cake compared to adolescence.”

Stefan groaned. “I can't think about that right now.”

 

“You've met Stephenia, haven't you?” Bridget said, and then covered her mouth as she giggled inside the café where they were eating lunch. “God is just. Stefan got a screamer.” She giggled again. “Serves him right. He makes all of us want to scream.”

“Have you spent time with her?” Eve asked.

Bridget paused. “I've seen her,” she said. “I can't deal with screaming children.”

“She's a motherless baby, and she's your niece,” Eve said.

Bridget pouted. “Oh, you're spoiling all my fun,” she said. “I'll be a good aunty eventually. I just don't enjoy infants and toddlers for more than an hour at a time…except for Valentina's daughter. She was a dream. Stephenia is a nightmare,” she said in a lowered voice, then waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Besides, you and I are having this lunch to discuss the children's charity event. I like the idea of a hard rock/rap party.”

“And how does this include children?” Eve prompted.

Bridget frowned. “I didn't know we had to include them. I thought we were just supposed to make money for them.”

Eve chuckled. “Both can be done. We could make a day of it. Sand castles at the beach during the day and a beach party at night for the adults.”

Bridget thought about the idea for a moment. “I like that, but I also like the idea of auctioning children's artwork.”

“That's doable. Get a good band and some appetizers….”

“Oh, it should be a four-course meal,” Bridget said.

“Not at the beach. And you want to make money. If you could pull in some celebrity appearances, that would make it even more appealing.”

Bridget's eyes lit up. “Stefan and his first appearance with Stephenia.”

Eve bit her lip, thinking about how difficult the current situation between Stefan and his daughter was. “I'm not sure you should count on that.”

Bridget sighed. “Surely we can get the screamer to stop screaming by then.”

“I know you're having a tough time with Stefan right
now, but at least you have him,” Eve said. “At least you have your brothers and sisters.”

Bridget's smile faded. “You must miss your brother very much. Why haven't you been in touch since you both became adults?”

“I can't find him and I suspect that if I can't find him, he may not want to be found,” Eve said. “My upbringing wasn't at all cushy. He had it rougher than I did.” Eve took a deep breath and fought back a sudden sting of tears that caught her off guard. “I know you and Stefan are often at odds, but please don't forget how important he is to you and how important you are to him. And I don't mean you're just important because of the duties you're currently performing.”

Bridget glanced down at her glass and slid her finger around the rim of it. “I know what you're saying. Even though he was horrid to Valentina, and it seemed he was upset because she'd left him with no help, the real reason he was upset was that he couldn't protect her. He would croak if anything happened to any of us.” She glanced up at Eve. “I still think his temperament would improve vastly if he had a wife…or at least a lover.”

Eve couldn't say a thing.

 

Stefan waited until his daughter's temperature returned to normal to approach her in the nursery. She still screamed when he entered. When he sat on the floor and read like Eve had, Stephenia sat on the opposite side of the room and watched him with terror on her face. It stabbed him in his heart to know that his daughter feared him so completely.

He took Eve with him late one afternoon to observe. Stephenia was far more interested in Eve than him. Eve
had managed to swipe back her hat while Stephie slept one night. Stephie wanted it back.

His daughter walked toward Eve and pointed to her black Stetson. “You wanna borrow my hat?” Eve asked. “Can you say please?”

Stephie kept her thumb in her mouth and continued to point.

Eve adjusted her hat. “Gotta say please,” she said. “What's up for reading tonight, Your Highlyness?”

“The Cat in the Hat,”
he said, then sat on the floor just as he had for the last four nights.

“Oooh, one of my favorites,” Eve said, joining him on the floor and looking at the book as he read it.