The Prince's Texas Bride (14 page)

Staring out the window at the sunny day, he fought an overwhelming bleakness inside him. What if he'd waited too long? What if he could have somehow prevented this? God help him, he didn't know what he would do if she didn't make it.

“Y
our Royal Highness,” Stefan's aide said. “The doctor is here to speak with you.”

“Please send him in immediately,” he said.

The doctor, a middle-aged man, strode inside and the door was closed behind him. “Your Highness,” he said with a quick dip of his head. “Ms. Jackson arrived with multiple lacerations, broken ribs and internal bruising. Her spleen was ruptured and had to be removed. She has also suffered a severe concussion and we're watching her for swelling. She hasn't regained consciousness since she arrived, but with the loss of blood and surgery, that's to be expected. Her condition is serious, but stable. We'll be keeping her in ICU until further evaluation.”

“I must see her,” Stefan said, reeling from the list of her injuries.

The doctor gave a slight grimace. “I'm not sure that's
a good idea, sir. Her face is bruised and swollen and as I told you, she's unconscious.”

“I must see her,”
Stefan repeated, clenching his jaw.

The doctor gave a slow nod. “As you wish,” he said. “Please come this way.”

Stefan followed the doctor to a different floor and stepped inside the doorway of the room where Eve was surrounded by beeping machines. The sight of her in such a fragile state ripped him in half. She was so strong, so vibrant, yet now it appeared as if she were barely alive. A knot formed in the back of his throat and he forcibly swallowed it down. Her face was swollen. One of her eyes was purple.

Anger and horror built up inside him. Who could have done this to her? Why? What had she done except help his sister? In some part of his mind, he noticed that he'd clenched his fists. He deliberately released them and moved closer to her.

“May I touch her?” he asked the nurse writing on a chart just before she left the room.

“Yes. Gently,” she said. “Just don't compromise her tubes or monitors.”

He nodded. “Okay.” Carefully, he touched the part of her arm that wasn't connected to an IV. “Eve,” he said. “Hang on. I'm going to take care of you.” He lifted his hand to her cheek where she wasn't swollen. “I love you. Hang on, darling. Please, hang on.”

Stefan instructed his aide to update Bridget and Phillipa, and also to make sure the barns were covered. He hesitated making the call to the States to Eve's aunt because he was hoping that each passing hour would bring more hopeful news. But Eve remained unconscious. She was so still, so pale. It broke his heart to think of the
pain she must have suffered when she'd stepped in front of Bridget.

He decided to stay through the night. His senior adviser, Tomas, attempted to call him repeatedly, but Stefan ignored the calls. If there were a true national emergency, then his aide would inform him. He sat in the chair next to her bed, watching her, willing her to wake up.

The next morning, she still didn't awaken. Frustration and fear battled inside him. She reminded him of a fairy-tale princess cursed to sleep.

“Is there anything else you can do?” he asked the doctor the next morning.

“We can decrease her pain medication, but we have to bear in mind that she's also recovering from emergency surgery. I know it's difficult, but sleep is giving her time to heal without being in pain. Perhaps you should go back to the palace and get some rest.”

Stefan shook his head and continued his vigil next to her bed. Just after three o'clock that afternoon, he saw her stir slightly. Springing to his feet, he reached out to touch her hand. “Eve. It's Stefan. I'm here for you. We're taking care of you.”

Her eyes flickered and his heart stuttered. She winced slightly and sighed, then relaxed again. “Nurse,” he called just outside the room. “She moved her eyelids.”

The nurse rushed inside and checked her vital signs. “Her heart rate has picked up a little. Our girl may be waking up soon,” she said and smiled. “I'll check back in a while.”

Still unable to relax, he paced the small room and checked on her every other minute. He took a call from Bridget and reluctantly agreed to allow her to visit later in the evening. Fifteen minutes after the nurse
checked Eve's vital signs, his security guard tapped on the door.

“Pardon me, Your Highness, but one of your senior advisers wishes to see you,” he said.

“Here?” Stefan asked. “He's here in the hospital?”

“He's actually waiting just outside the ICU,” he said. “I can tell him you're not available, sir.”

Stefan shook his head impatiently. “No, I'll give him two minutes, then be done with it,” he said and strode to the hallway.

“Your Royal Highness, I've been trying to reach you all day,” Tomas Gunter said.

“As you can see, we've had an emergency and Ms. Jackson has been seriously injured. What is so important that it couldn't wait until I return to the palace?” Stefan demanded.

The adviser opened his mouth, then closed it. “Sir, I believe it's best if we speak in private.”

“If you can't tell me now, then it can wait,” Stefan said. “Call my aide for assistance in the meantime.”

Tomas shifted from one foot to the other. “Sir, as one of you senior advisers, I must tell you that your prolonged presence at the hospital is raising suspicions about your relationship with Ms. Jackson.”

“And?” Stefan asked.

The adviser blinked. “Well, it isn't good for the image you've said you want to maintain to get involved with one of your staff,” he said in a lowered voice.

Stefan resisted the urge to roar. “I don't give a bloody damn about my image at the moment. At the moment, the woman I love is fighting for her life. Nothing is more important. Do you understand?”

The adviser pressed his lips together. “Then you should know, sir, that Ms. Jackson had intentions of
leaving Chantaine. She remained to fulfill her obligation to Princess Bridget, but she was going to leave as soon as possible.”

Stefan felt as if he'd been punched. “How do you know this?”

The adviser swallowed. “I took the liberty of speaking with Ms. Jackson. I explained your goals and the importance of your reputation. She agreed that she wanted only the best for you and didn't want to be a distraction from your purpose as Crown Prince of Chantaine.”

Stunned, Stefan stared at the man. “You told Eve to leave Chantaine?” he asked, trying to wrap his head around it.

“She agreed that she didn't want to compromise your future or effectiveness,” the adviser insisted. “I did what I thought was best for Chantaine.”

Stefan's surprise quickly turned to anger. “You over-stepped your position,” he said. “What gives you the right to interfere in my relationships, particularly without my foreknowledge?”

“I am your senior adviser,” he said, puffing himself up and lifting his chin.

“Were,” Stefan said, making an immediate decision. “You're relieved of your duties. Consider yourself dismissed.”

Now Tomas looked stunned. “But, sir, I have served as an adviser since your father's reign.”

“You clearly need a break,” Stefan said in a crisp voice.

“You're not thinking clearly. Especially since Ms. Jackson is injured. Time will pass and you'll see that letting her return to the States is the correct path,” the adviser continued.

“Not in my lifetime,” he said. “You may leave.”

“You'll regret this,” Tomas said. “The people of Chantaine will never accept her. She has no title. She brings nothing to our people.”

“How about heart, empathy and courage?” Stefan demanded, feeling his blood boil. He ached to smash his fist into the adviser's face. Glancing at his guard, he waved for him to approach.

“Please make sure Mr. Gunter is escorted to the lobby,” he said, and then he returned to Eve's room.

His heart pounded with pure fury. He couldn't believe the gall of the adviser. To directly take such an action behind his back. Dismissing the man didn't seem punishment enough for what he'd done. He was tempted to strip Gunter of his previous royal commendation honors.

What must Eve have thought when she was approached by him? He wondered if she'd thought Stefan had sent him. His gut churned with the thought. He couldn't blame her for wanting to leave if she was going to have to deal with men like Gunter.

Still flaming with anger, he closed his eyes and took deep calming breaths. He suspected he would never get over his fury with the man, but for Eve's sake, he needed to get himself under control. How could he be there for her if he was ready to rip off his adviser's head?

He heard a slight rustle and turned to look at the bed. She rolled her head from one side to the other and moaned as if in pain. Rushing to the bed, he covered her hand with his. “Eve, it's Stefan. I'm here. I'm here.”

She wrinkled her brow and shook her head again, fluttering her eyelashes. She blinked several times and stared at him as if she were trying to focus. “Stefan,” she said in a hoarse voice. She winced again.

“What, darling? What is it?”

“Why do I feel like I've been run over by a truck?” she managed, then closed her eyes. Her face contorted in pain. “It hurts to breathe.”

“That's because of your broken ribs. Rest,” he said, and then punched the button for the nurse.

“My head,” she said.

“Concussion,” he said.

“And my gut.”

“They had to remove your spleen,” he said and gently touched her cheek. “Eve, I need you to know that I love you.”

She grimaced again. “Oh, sweetie, that's not a good idea.”

“But—”

The nurse swished into the room. “You're back, darling. The doctor will be pleased with the news. Let me check your vitals. I bet you're feeling a little rough, aren't you?”

Eve nodded and gave a pathetic sounding moan that wrenched at Stefan's gut. “She's in terrible pain,” he said.

“Drugs,” Eve said. “Or just shoot me.”

The nurse made a
tsk
-ing sound and injected some medication directly into Eve's IV. “You poor, brave girl. This should make you feel better soon. Now rest.”

Eve closed her eyes and her face gradually relaxed. Her breathing fell into a gentle rhythm.

Stefan was so relieved he sank into the chair beside the bed. “Thank God,” he said.

The nurse nodded. “She's a strong woman. She's going to need to let someone else be strong for her for a while.”

“She'll have that in spades,” he assured the nurse.

Just as the nurse left, Bridget tiptoed into the room. “How is she?” she asked.

“Better,” he said, standing to give her a hug. “She awakened for a few minutes a while ago.”

Bridget's eyes lifted up. “Oh, that's wonderful. Did she talk? What did she say?”

Stefan rubbed his chin and shook his head. “She asked to be shot,” he said.

Bridget bit her lip and turned to look at Eve. “Oh, my. Look at the bruises. Her eye is so swollen.”

“I warned you,” he said.

“I know. I just didn't realize.” Bridget adjusted the sheet slightly. “It's so odd seeing her this helpless. I can't help feeling this is my fault. If I hadn't begged her to attend the event with me…”

“Then who knows what would have happened to you?” he asked, even though he understood Bridget's guilt. He had a share of his own guilt and he'd had nothing to do with the event or Eve's attendance.

“She's been such a wonderful friend to me since she arrived. Even though she's busy with your horses and doesn't party much,” she said. “Being around her just made me feel—I don't know—stronger, more capable somehow. I don't know how to explain it. Please tell me her injuries will heal.”

“They should,” Stefan said. “They better.”

Bridget glanced at him. “You're exhausted. You should go home now.”

He shook his head. “I'm not ready.”

She frowned. “I realize you probably feel responsible for her because you brought her to Chantaine and she has no family here, but you don't have to stay here. I can take a turn. Phillipa can, too.”

“I do need to stay,” he said and met Bridget's gaze. “Because I'm in love with her.”

Bridget dropped her jaw and for once was speechless.

After her brief silence, she peppered him with questions, which he refused to answer. “I've told you more than anyone else knows,” he said. “That's all I have to say. Right now, I'm focused on making sure Eve progresses.”

Bridget studied him thoughtfully and giggled. “Well, now I understand why she wasn't at all thrilled when I was showing her photographs of the women I wanted to match up with you.”

“You're not to tease her,” he said sternly. “She's been through enough. What she needs right now is kindness and medication. In the meantime, give my daughter a kiss for me.”

After Bridget left, Stefan stayed through the night, but he dozed off a couple of times. In the early hours, just as dawn was breaking, he opened his eyes to find Eve looking at him. Immediately rising, he went to her bedside. “How are you?”

“Floaty,” she said. “If I breathe very slowly, I don't feel like screaming. My head is still—” She broke off. “Ugh.”

“Can I get something for you?” he asked.

She shook her head and frowned. “Oooh, that was a mistake. No, thank you,” she said in a low, hoarse voice. “How long have you been here?”

“Almost two days,” he said, studying her, wanting to assure her and himself that she would be okay.

Her eyes widened. “Wow. I've been out that long?”

“You had surgery, too,” he said.

“Oh. Forgot about that.” She yawned and clearly
regretted it by the expression on her face. “You can go home now. I'm going to be okay.”

He smiled at the way he'd given her permission. “I don't want to go home until you and I reach an agreement.”