The Prince's Texas Bride (4 page)

“No,” he said. “Besides the fact that Tina would kill me if anything happened to you, I wouldn't be able to stand it myself.”

“But I'm not your responsibility,” she argued.

“You are in my country. Therefore, you are my responsibility.”

She stared at him for a long moment and shivered. His gaze lowered to her damp shirt stretched taut over her breasts, her nipples forming a tempting outline. He felt an immediate visceral response. Instinct urged him to rub her arms with his hands, to pull her against his body and make her warm. He clenched his hands into fists. Denial had been drilled into him since the day he was born, even more so when he'd come to understand the playboy image of his father and grandfather. When he'd come of age, many people had expected that he would follow in his father's footsteps.

Stefan had wanted more. He wanted the opportunity to change and improve his country. For that, he had to be taken seriously. He'd kept his affairs scrupulously private. His duty and the sins of his father had forced him to hold his libido in check. Right now, though, for the first time in a long time, he fought the urge to pull the mouthy American Eve Jackson into his arms and make love to her against any flat surface available.

He reined in his surprising need. “I'll walk you to your quarters,” he said.

“Oh, that's so not necessary. I walk to my quarters by myself every night,” she said.

“You're not dripping wet every night,” he said, extending his hand, determined to maintain control. “Come, now.”

Eve rolled her eyes, but placed her cool hand in his. “Sheesh, did anyone ever tell you that you take this Highlyness thing a bit far?”

“No one except my sisters,” he said as he led the way to the staff quarters. He rarely walked this path. Now
that he saw it, he decided it needed a few more lights. “How late do you usually stay at the stables?”

She shrugged. “It depends. I usually grab a sandwich for dinner and head back around nine or ten.”

“I'm not sure it's best for you to be walking back to the staff quarters unescorted every night,” he said.

“Oh, give me a break. I've spent my life going anywhere I need to go unescorted. Besides, I'll bet you didn't tell your previous stable master that he shouldn't be walking around the grounds unescorted.”

“Trust me, he didn't look at all like you. Plus, he never felt the necessity to work full-time let alone overtime. I prefer you leave the stables before dark for the next couple of nights. I'll get motion lights installed.”

“We'll see,” she muttered.

He gave a double take. “We'll see?” he echoed. “I just gave you a very reasonable order.”

She sighed. “Do you really think you have criminals wandering around the palace grounds?”

“I'll admit it's not likely, and the security here is as good as it gets without causing claustrophobia, but nothing is perfect. I will be more comfortable if you avoid walking alone at night until there's more lighting.”

“So this is about your comfort and not mine?” she said.

Damn, the woman was difficult, he thought. “Perhaps. You need to remember that you're not just an employee. Because of your relationship with Tina, you're also a friend of the family. We protect our friends.” He noticed her fighting a shiver and swore under his breath and rubbed her arms. “I shouldn't be keeping you out in the cool air. Go inside and get warm.”

Her gaze met his for a moment and he saw a shot of liquid heat flash through her eyes. He saw the possibility
of passion and felt it deep in his gut. She took a quick breath and her lips parted, drawing his attention. He wondered how that argumentative mouth would feel beneath his. He wondered how she would respond.

For once, Stefan had finally met a woman who didn't give a damn about his title or position. She had no interest in pacifying him and would argue with him at the drop of a hat, yet he sensed that a part of her wanted him. Tempted, more so than he'd felt in a long time, he wondered if Eve could handle an affair with him. He suspected she met his requirement of being discreet. How messy would it be once their affair ended? Because they all ended.

She closed her eyes as if she were trying to shut down her emotions. That annoyed him. He wanted her open to him. He wanted to see the desire in her eyes again.

Taking another breath, she opened her eyes and took a step away from him. “Thanks for the night ride,” she said in a husky voice that brushed over his nerve endings. “Good night.”

He watched her jog inside the back door to the staff quarters and felt a surprising urge to go after her. He snuffed it out, of course. Even though Eve aroused more than his curiosity, he couldn't rush into anything. There was too much at stake to be impulsive. There always had been and there always would be.

 

At ten o'clock the next morning, Eve was returning one of the horses to the stall when she heard Bridget's voice.

“Bonjour, Mademoiselle Jackson,” she called. “I am your rescuer and have come to help you escape your drudgery for a while.”

Eve sighed, although she couldn't deny she was
amused. Bridget would do anything to get out of palace duties. She closed the door to Gus's stall. “Bridget, that's very sweet of you, but—”

“No refusals allowed,” Bridget said. “You and I have received orders from on high.”

Eve turned to face the princess and blinked at the sight. It was clear what the plans for the outing were from Bridget's beach cover-up, gigantic sunglasses, a large-brim, black straw hat and designer beach bag.

“Orders from on high?” Eve echoed.

Bridget nodded. “Stefan has spoken. He says you need a day off, and I've been assigned to take you to the beach.” She lifted her finger. “Don't you dare fight me on this. It wasn't my idea, but it's my first opportunity to have a little fun in what must be a century. If I have to attend another charity tea, I'll scream. Besides, Stefan is right. You must take a break. Forgive me for being blunt, but you're looking a bit, well, haggard.”

Eve hardly knew how to respond to Bridget's mouthful of drama. She'd already shot down Eve's objections before she'd had a chance to voice them. “I have difficulty believing the palace protests other members of the staff working too hard.”

Bridget gave a
tsk
-ing sound. “Eve, other members of the staff take every possible break. Besides, you're not just staff. Tina gave you to us. The rules are different. Oh, for goodness' sake, I'm suggesting a day at the beach. Not the guillotine. Your reluctance is insulting. Do you dislike me so much?”

Eve laughed in exasperation. “I don't dislike you. I just need to stay on top of my duties. The parade is days away—”

“And everything is going to go brilliantly. In the meantime, the sun is shining and the beach is calling.”
She clapped her hands lightly. “Come, come. You do have a swimsuit, don't you?

“Yes, but—”

“No buts,” Bridget said.

“You Devereaux drive a hard bargain,” Eve said.

“Oh, good,” Bridget said. “I smell the sweet scent of surrender. Don't worry about sunscreen. I have plenty. Move along.”

Within forty-five minutes, Eve and Bridget were reclining in lounge chairs on a semi-private beach where, magically it seemed, servers appeared to deliver refreshing beverages and snacks.

“Are you sure you don't want more than water?” Bridget asked.

“For now,” Eve said, closing her eyes and enjoying the feeling of sunshine and gentle ocean breeze over her skin. “You and Stefan were right. I needed this.”

“Of course I was right,” Bridget said, neatly eliminating Stefan from the equation. “The staff has prepared lunch. We can eat in an hour or two. They'll also be putting up umbrellas soon. It has occurred to me that you've been too busy to make new friends in Chantaine since you arrived. In the same vein, you haven't had the opportunity to meet any men. While I'll confess that the selection is much better in Europe than here,” Bridget said in a dry voice, “I could introduce you to someone who could amuse you. You and I could visit one of our nightclubs.”

“Not my thing,” Eve said, keeping her eyes closed.

“Why ever not? What do you do for fun?”

“I enjoy riding and taking care of horses. I enjoy the beach. I like to read. I like to play card games and Chicken Scratch—”

“Oh, well, I can agree with Chicken Scratch. We are
all determined to have you return for family dinner night and another round of it,” Bridget said.

“Great,” Eve said wryly. “I can't wait to have the entire Devereaux dynasty gang up on me.”

Bridget laughed. “It's your fault. You started it.”

“I thought this was supposed to help me relax,” Eve muttered, but focused on the sound of the ocean waves. She cautioned herself not to get used to it, but this was bliss. She drifted off….

 

“Is she getting too much sun?”

The voice, which seemed to affect her on a cellular level, awakened her with no warning and she sat up, disoriented. “What?”

The tall, strong body of Prince Stefan towered over her, casting a long shadow. Eve covered her eyes at the bright sunlight.

“Not at all. She applied sunscreen, and the staff put up an umbrella to shield her. Poor thing must be dead tired. She's been asleep for the last half hour. Stefan, you're working her too hard,” Bridget said.

“It's not me,” he said. “She insists on working from before dawn to after dusk. The American way.”

Eve drew in a mind-clearing breath and tried to dismiss the effect Stefan had on her. She noticed he was dressed in a dark suit and the contrast with the white sand distracted her. She wondered how he would look wearing just a swim suit. Or less. “I'm awake now. You can talk
to
me instead of
about
me.”

Bridget giggled. “I tried to talk Eve into going to a nightclub with me, but she wasn't interested. You should wave your imperial wand, Stefan. That was the only way I was able to persuade her to join me at the beach. I'm
sure Tina would want to make sure we're introducing her to new friends, including new male friends.”

“Perhaps Eve isn't interested in the kind of men she would meet at a club,” Stefan said.

“Won't know till she tries,” Bridget said in an airy voice. “However, I would be more than willing to escort her to Italy. I have the perfect club selected for tonight, thought—”

“I couldn't be less interested in a club tonight,” Eve said. “The little trip to this perfect beach has relaxed me so much it scares me. Even though I'm being a slug today, I'm certain I'll sleep like a log tonight. I think it's the sea air.”

“Good to hear it,” Stefan said with a nod. “The family is having an early dinner with Jacques since he will be returning this weekend. We want you to join us.”

Eve slid a sideways glance at Bridget, who looked as innocent as possible in her black bikini and straw hat with a martini in her hand. “I'm sure you would prefer to keep the night to just your family. I don't want to interfere.”

“We insist,” Stefan said, using the royal
we.

“This is about Chicken Scratch, isn't it?” Eve said glumly.

“My siblings are compelled to hold a rematch,” Stefan said.

“Okay, okay,” Eve said. “But only two games.”

“That leaves no opportunity for a tiebreaker,” Bridget said.

“Exactly,” Eve said.

Stefan met Eve's gaze and shot her a grin that mixed challenge and sensuality. The combination sent a ripple down her spine. “I look forward to the evening,” he said and walked away.

Eve sank back against her lounge and groaned. “I thought you intended this to be relaxing.”

“It is,” Bridget said cheerfully as she lifted her martini glass.

“How can I relax knowing I'm attending a family dinner at the palace where all of you want to rip me to shreds?” Eve asked.

“The dinner will be delicious,” Bridget said. “We only want to best you at Chicken Scratch. It's a matter of honor.”

“Good luck,” Eve said. She was from Texas, and a Texan fought till the bloody end.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Not until we're finished with the game,” Eve said.

A
fter consuming a gourmet meal, Eve and the Deveraux clan engaged in a death match of Chicken Scratch. They cajoled her into playing more than two games and each of them won once, but Eve won most overall, much to the siblings' dismay. Stefan had been forced to leave early to take a call.

Jacques bared his teeth playfully. “You're in our targets now even more than ever. Don't get used to winning.”

“I'll try not to,” Eve drawled, “but since most of my experience is with winning…” She gave a mock shrug.

Phillipa giggled. “She pummeled us even after all our practice.”

Eve smiled. “You have to remember that I've been playing this game practically since the cradle.”

“That's okay,” Bridget said, putting her nose in the
air. “We're just getting started. We
will
conquer Chicken Scratch
and
you.”

“Well, you'll have to do it without me for a while since I'm returning to university,” Jacques said.

Bridget rose and gave her brother a big hug around his neck, which seemed to surprise him. “I'll miss you. Just be careful with the girls. You know how Stefan is about living down the Deveraux playboy image.”

“I'm careful, but I'll never lock myself away from the women the way Stefan does.”

“Yes, well, that may be part of the reason he's always in a bad mood. I may put together a plan to change things in that area,” Bridget said, her eyes glinting with a diabolical gleam.

Eve almost felt sorry for Stefan. “Time for me to go. Thank you again for the wonderful dinner and company. Good luck at university, Jacques.”

“Thank you,” Jacques said, rising. “I'll look forward to a rematch when I return on break.”

“My pleasure, Your Highness,” she said, then looked at Bridget and Phillipa. “Sweet dreams.”

“And to you,” Phillipa said, smiling.

Eve left the palace and headed for the staff quarters, when she overheard a muttered string of oaths followed by a succession of what she suspected were more expletives in a language she didn't understand coming from behind a tall hedge. What she did understand was that Stefan was the one voicing the litany. For a millisecond, she considered continuing down her path away from him, but some part of her wouldn't allow it.

Turning around, she took in a breath of the night air filled with the scent of flowers, and then peeked through a large hedge. Stefan stood with his back to her, hands on hips, still hissing in frustration. “I hope it's not the
landscaping that has you so upset,” she said. “If that's true, then your groundskeepers better grab a canoe and get off the island.”

Silence followed, then a heavy sigh. He turned toward her voice and his gaze found her immediately. “Join me,” he said. “If you dare.”

For a moment, she wondered if she really did dare. Then she shook off the silly thought. Sure he was a prince, but he was still just a man. She walked through the maze of hedging to step inside the small courtyard. “Needed some fresh air, eh?” she asked. “What's got you so pissed off this time?”

“This time,” he said, lifting a dark brow of disapproval. “The way you say that suggests I'm pissed off most of the time.”

“If the shoe fits,” she said. “You stayed upset with Tina for a long time.”

“She abandoned ship with zero notice,” he pointed out.

“True, but pregnancy trumps charity teas,” she countered. “And when are you not frustrated with Bridget?”

“Tell me the truth,” he said, dipping his head close to hers. “Would you want her for your employee?”

He made an excellent point, but she didn't want to contribute to the strife-ridden relationship between the two of them. “I don't think Bridget is the reason you were swearing at the shrubbery a few moments ago.”

He held her gaze for a long moment and sighed. “That's correct,” he said, then turned away, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Just curious,” she said. “What language were you using?”

“Italian, French and Greek,” he said with a shrug.

“Must be something big to require swearing in four languages,” she said.

He stood with his back to her for a long moment and she wondered if it might be best if she left. She didn't appear to be helping.

“For some time, I've been trying to recruit a new medical specialist for Chantaine's health care. Our current chief of health and medicine is retiring soon and we need to bring in a younger M.D. for this position. I'd all but sealed the deal when the doctor of choice announced he'd chosen another position.”

Surprise rushed through her. “Wow, you have your finger in a lot of pies. I didn't know you were involved in health care. I figured someone else was in charge of that.”

“There have been other people in charge of Chantaine's health care, but I'm taking a more active role than my predecessors. It's not acceptable to me to coast when my family has received such an enormous benefit from our birthright. It's time for us to give in return. Some in the government welcome my input and some do not.”

The passion in his voice emanated throughout the space they shared. “I don't know what the position of ruling prince entails, but I had thought it was more about decorum than governing.”

“I've been extensively educated in matters of government, world economics, health care policy and infrastructure design. I'm not going to let all that go to waste by sitting on a yacht in the Aegean Sea and showing up for photo ops every couple of months.”

“Okay,” she said warily. It was obvious this was a touchy subject. “I wasn't suggesting you spend your life on yacht, although it may not be a bad idea for a vacation
every now and then. You seem pretty wound up. Maybe you
should
take a little vacation.”

He met her gaze and his lips twitched. “How many vacations have you taken?”

“I wasn't born into your world. My family was very poor,” she said. “I worked as a matter of survival, through high school, then paid for most of my own college education. As soon as I finished, I worked that job until I came here. There's been no time for vacation.”

“But even if there were, I suspect you wouldn't take it. You had to be forced to spend a day at the beach today. You and I are alike. We don't want to take a break until the job is done.”

“Yes, but your job will never be done,” she said. “If you don't pace yourself, you're going to burn out everyone around you, including yourself.”

“You sound almost as if you care,” he said.

His response took her off guard. “Maybe I shouldn't, but I guess I do,” she said, surprised at how much she was beginning to care for the whole Devereaux family, including Stefan. Unnerved, she decided to leave. “Well, since I don't think I'm helping you get to your royal Zen state, I'll head to my room—”

He reached out to wrap his hand around her wrist. “Au contraire, you underestimate yourself.”

Her heart jumped at the sensation of his thumb skimming the underside of her wrist. “I have enormous confidence,” she said more breathlessly than she'd intended, “that I have very little effect on you except to irritate you.”

His eyes darkened with a hint of challenge that made her a little nervous. “Again,” he said, tugging her closer. “You underestimate yourself. You make me curious.”

He lifted one of his fingers to her lips, and she felt a
buzzing sensation that started at her mouth and seemed to travel down every nerve ending in her body. “No need to be curious,” she said, wondering why her lungs weren't functioning properly. “I'm boring.”

He gave a low laugh and shook his head. “No chance. I think you may be a little curious about me.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but the lie stuck in her throat. The truth was she found Stefan much more fascinating than she'd expected. He leaned closer and closer, and she held her breath in a mix of expectation and—strangely—fear. She would have to figure out the latter. Why on earth should she be afraid of—

His mouth took hers and every thought except him left her. His lips felt smooth and sensual. There was a reason she should hold back, but she couldn't quite muster it from her cloudy mind. His tongue teased the seam of her lips and she instinctively opened, wanting more. Something inside her cut loose and she arched against him, craving the sensation of his hard chest against her breasts.

She lifted her hands, sinking her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. It was surprisingly soft while the rest of him was oh, so hard. In an instant, the tenor of the kiss changed from exploring to hot and aching. She felt his hand slide to the back of her hips, pulling her against him intimately.

Her heart hammered in her chest, her blood roared through her veins like wildfire. She felt an indelible connection that seemed to go deeper than her cells. Crazy, some part of her said, but it was faint compared to the desire, need or whatever it was that filled her to bursting.

He gave a low groan that vibrated deliciously through her. The need inside her grew exponentially.

“I must have you,” he muttered against her mouth. He swore. “I want you here, now,” he said and took her mouth in another, more passionate, less controlled kiss.

She craved more of his passion, less of his control. Some part of her trusted him like she'd never trusted any other man.

Groaning again, he pulled his mouth from hers and tucked her head beneath his chin. The sound of their breaths mingled with a bird calling in the distance. Eve's mind spun like a water spout. Even though she knew she would drown, she didn't want it to stop.

“I'll figure this out,” he said in a low voice. “We'll have an arrangement. We can meet in secret. I'll call you and give you a key to—”

“Arrangement,” she echoed, her mind starting to function again. “Secret?” She looked up at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Surely, you don't expect a public relationship with me.”

She blinked, not sure what she'd expected.

He gently squeezed her shoulders. “Eve, neither you nor I want to carry out an affair in public.”

Affair.
It just sounded dirty. Icky.

“Do you really want the press investigating every bit of your past? Every bit of your family's past? Do you want to endure the speculation of being a prospective princess of Chantaine?”

“Princess?” she finally was able to say. “I have never, nor will I ever be, a princess in any sense of the word.”

“Exactly,” he said and chuckled. Then he turned serious and laced his fingers through hers. “Does that mean you and I should deprive ourselves?”

His touch almost short-circuited her brain function. She frowned as she tried to concentrate. She closed her eyes and tried to think. His scent slid past her self-defenses. She frowned. “I don't know about this. I'm going to have to think about it.”

Silence followed. “Excuse me. You're going to have to think about it?”

Eve opened her eyes and nodded. “Yes. You're not just my boss, you're a prince, for Pete's sake. This could turn into one big, hot mess.”

“You're refusing my suggestion because I'm a prince?” he said more than asked, and he didn't sound particularly pleased.

She shrugged. “Well, yes. It's not as if a relationship between you and me could go anywhere. Obviously, you agree it's a dead-end adventure. And if you fell in love with me, it would be terribly messy.”

He stared at her in amazement. “If I fell in love with you?”

She nodded. “It has happened before.”

“I suppose it didn't occur to you that you could fall in love with me,” he said in a lethally sexy voice.

She swallowed over a knot of denial. “It's not likely,” she said.

He tilted his head to one side. “Why is that,
chérie?
”

Her nerve endings were still leap-frogging over themselves, but she refused to give in to the situation. “Because I've never fallen in love before. Why on earth would I start with you?”

He blinked as if he hadn't heard her correctly.

“Well, other than the fact that you're sexy, intelligent and probably loaded,” she said and felt as if she were digging herself deeper into a hole. She didn't like the
quicksand sensation at all. Eve preferred staying in control and that was what she would do right now. “I think we should just forget this ever happened.”

He laughed, which infuriated her. “Do you think you can do that? Do you think it will be that easy?”

“We're both adults,” she said, pushing aside her doubts. “I've had to exercise mind over matter many times during my life. I'm sure you have, too. There,” she said, extending her hand. “Let's shake on it.”

He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he shook his head. Then he lifted her hand and turned it so her wrist was open and vulnerable. He pressed his mouth against her skin, and she felt her pulse jump. “Sorry, Eve, I don't make promises I don't intend to keep.”

 

Eve successfully avoided Stefan for the next three days. She told herself that if she created some distance between herself and the kiss that had somehow turned into an
event,
then she would gain the proper perspective, which was that it had been just a kiss and the reason she'd experienced all those feelings was because she'd been tired. Most important, she felt more in control when she wasn't around Stefan.

The day before the parade, she was checking off the items on her countdown list. She couldn't deny a bit of nerves in anticipation of the event, but was satisfied she'd done as much preparation as possible during the time she'd been in Chantaine. She'd touched base with all the riders except for Count Christo. The man had completely ignored her calls. He was the one who liked to wield a whip, and she was determined to find a way to extract it from him before he mounted one of her darlings.