The Prince's Texas Bride

“Your Highness,” Gwendolyn said, warning him she was serious by the use of his title, “we really must be going.”

“Lady Gwendolyn, I’ve just learned this young lady is driving all the way to Galveston by herself in this rather questionable automobile. Surely I can’t let that pass.”

“Surely you must, Your Highness,” she insisted.

Alexi laughed. “How far is this trip of yours?”

“In hours, I’d say around six or so.”

“Six hours in Delores,” he said, turning to Gwendolyn. “That seems rather unfortunate, don’t you think?”

Gwendolyn tugged on his sleeve. When he leaned down, she whispered fiercely in his ear. “So buy her a bloody ticket on an airplane and let’s be on our way!”

Alexi laughed. “You can’t solve everything with money, Gwennie.”

“Alexi Ladislas,” she whispered, reverting to the tone of voice she’d used when she was peeved with him, “forget any idea that might be forming in your head.”

“I can’t imagine what you’re talking about.”

“I can see you’re busy,” Kerry said with a sigh. “Thanks for the autograph. My mother will be so proud.”

“Just a moment, Kerry,” Alexi said.

“Alexi, no!”

He smiled down at Gwendolyn. “This is fate, don’t you think? If that soft drink hadn’t exploded. If we hadn’t stopped in this particular place.”

“Fate is sticking to your schedule. Who knows what momentous events await you in San Antonio?”

“I’ve never been to Galveston.”

“You’ve never been to San Antonio, either!”

“Yes, but Galveston has a beach.” He turned to Kerry. “It does have a beach, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” she answered, obviously confused. “Galveston is actually an island.”

“Ah, you see, an island. You do remember how I love the islands. Besides, all my important meetings are complete. Relax for a few days, Gwennie. You need a holiday as much as I do.”

“Alexi, don’t!”

“I must, dear Gwendolyn.” He turned to Kerry. “As a gentleman, I cannot allow you to make the treacherous trip alone. It would be my honor to accompany you to Galveston in your faithful steed, Delores.”

KERRY COULDN’T BELIEVE she was driving State Road 46 toward Interstate 10 with a genuine prince. He was sitting on the passenger side, his backside resting on her Wal-Mart imitation leopard-print car seat cover, looking as though he were having the time of his life. The wind blew his brown hair across his forehead and plastered the Western shirt he’d bought in the truck stop to his chest. His really nice, impressively muscular chest.

She was usually a good judge of character, but Prince Alexi had poleaxed her from the moment she’d kissed him, so she might not be thinking straight.

She almost moaned aloud. Jeez, she’d kissed a prince! She still couldn’t believe she’d done that. The only explanation she could come up with was that today was her last day as a waitress. She’d said goodbye to her fellow waitresses and regular customers, all emotional about this change in her life, including her college graduation on Saturday. Then a prince walked into her life. And not just any prince, but one who was so good-looking he made her eyeballs hurt.

She wanted to watch him instead of the road, inhale his scent instead of the dusty highway breeze, and most of all, she wanted to kiss him again. Which was crazy. She had to keep reminding herself that he was a prince.

Why was he sitting in her aging Toyota? If he’d wanted to see Galveston, why hadn’t he hopped on a jet or into his fancy Land Rover? Why would he care if she drove there in Delores when he didn’t even know her?

“What kind of music do you like?” he asked, reaching for her radio.

“Almost everything but rap,” she replied. “It might be hard to pick up a station between towns, but I have a CD player. CDs are in the back seat, in that black zippered case.”

“You have a CD player?”

She glanced over at her passenger. “What, you don’t think Delores deserves a nice stereo?”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“The new CD player and stereo radio was a gift from my mother two years ago. I spend—spent a lot of time commuting from home to school to work.”

“Where is Ranger Springs?” he asked as he reached for her CDs.

“West of the truck stop, about twenty-five minutes.” She grinned. “In Texas, we often give distances in the minutes it takes to drive rather than the actual miles.”

“I only visited Dallas. I have some business contacts there.”

“I thought you were in the business of being a prince.”

“I have some other interests.”

“Really?” She glanced over and saw him flipping through her CDs. Garth Brooks, vintage Bee Gees, the music from Phantom of the Opera and a half-dozen other groups.

He sighed as if he didn’t want to talk about himself. “Some investments of my own.”

“Ah. So you’re not just another pretty face with a crown.” Maybe if she joked about his good looks, she wouldn’t keep thinking about how interested she was in him as a man.

He laughed. “Thank you for the compliment, I think. I suppose that is the view of royalty, especially in Texas, where everyone values their independence.”

Kerry nodded in agreement. “We’re big on independence, but fascinated by everything bigger than life. Rich folks. Movie stars. Royalty. My mother is one of the biggest fans of the British royals, but she doesn’t discriminate. When I give her your autograph, she’s going to be doing the happy-happy dance all around the living room.” Kerry chuckled as she imagined her mom squealing in delight. “As a matter of fact, I may have to keep that car seat cover just because you sat on it.”

“Maybe you should bring me home and really make her day.” He slipped one of her favorite Dixie Chicks CDs into the stereo.

Kerry shook her head. “I’m not sure her heart could stand it.” Maybe her heart couldn’t stand it, either.

“Is she ill?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

Kerry chuckled again. “No, she’s as healthy as a horse. And she’s not that old, either. She just turned fifty. I was exaggerating.”

“That’s another trademark of Texans, isn’t it?”

“Only when we’re talking to Yankees.”

He laughed and turned up the volume on the CD player. “I’m having a good time, Kerry Lynn Jacks.”

“I’m glad….”

“Call me Alexi.”

“That seems kind of wrong. I mean, just because you and I are on a road trip, you’re still a prince.”

“Can you put that aside for a couple of days?”

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I can try.”

“Please, try,” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She tried not to react, even though her skin felt suddenly overheated…and not from the warm May temperature. “Okay.” She passed a pickup truck heavily laden with bales of hay as she thought about forgetting that the man beside her was a prince. The name Alexi sounded so foreign. Maybe if she had a nickname for him, she wouldn’t think of him as the prince. And what about when they stopped, or got to her aunt and uncle’s house? She couldn’t call him by his real name without alerting everyone that the prince was slumming around Texas with a truck stop waitress he’d just met.

“What’s your middle name?” she asked as the Dixie Chicks sang about women striking out on their own. What appropriate music. Kerry was just getting ready to start her new life. A professional life in which she would never have to wear a uniform again. And she’d have an apartment all her own. She could stay out late without anyone worrying. She could sleep late on Saturday morning and only wash dishes when she felt like it.

“Which one?” Alexi asked, breaking into her fantasy. “I have several.”

She made a face in his general direction. “Just tell me, okay? I need to call you something besides Alexi, or Your Highness, or whatever else is appropriate, because people are going to be a bit suspicious. They’ll either think I’m crazy as a loon for calling Hank a prince, or that you’re crazy for running off with me.”

“My full name is Alexi Karl Gregor MacCulloh Ladislas.”

“Wow.”

“My sentiments exactly. While attending college in Boston, I rarely used anything but my first name, usually shortened to Alex. And I found the computer forms weren’t understanding about more than one middle initial.”

“All your names sound real European except MacCulloh. Where did that come from?”

“My mother is English. Her grandfather was from Scotland and honored him by giving me his surname.”

“That’s nice, and it’s also perfect. Can I call you Mack? Anyone who hears us talking will think that you’re Hank McCauley.”

“Ah, yes. The man who looks like me. Tell me, now that we’ve spent some time together, do you still think we resemble each other that closely?”

She glanced over at him again. “Yes, you do, although your expressions are different. Hank’s more…well, I guess you could say he’s spontaneous. He’s also a big tease, and he’s a Texan through and through.” He also didn’t make her heart race with just a smile.

Alexi was silent for a moment. Kerry glanced quickly at him and noticed he was frowning. Finally, he asked, “What does he do for a living?”

“He trains cutting horses now, but he used to be a champion bronc rider. He’s retired.”

“Retired…at what age?”

“I guess he’s thirty-one now. Around your age, I suppose.”

“You cut me to the quick,” he replied with mock indignation. “I’m a relatively young thirty.”

Kerry chuckled. “Sorry. I wouldn’t want to add a whole year.”

“I was dreading my thirtieth birthday enough. I can’t imagine the next one.”

“I thought women worried more than men about aging.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about getting older. It’s just that my father, King Wilheim, has decided that thirty is a magical number. It’s the age at which I should settle down and choose a bride.”

“Choose a bride? That sounds so…archaic.”

He shrugged, then rested his arm on the open window and stared at the passing flat plains dotted with patches of wildflowers and barbed-wire fences. “What can I say? I’m a prince. You can’t get much more archaic than that.”

As she neared the intersection of Interstate 10, Kerry wondered if that was what this whole “road trip” incident was all about for Prince Alexi. Running away from his life. Running away from the responsibility of finding a bride.

She wondered if the men in her life would always lack reliability and maturity. Her father had loved gambling and excitement more than his family. Hank was a nice guy, but he flirted and teased his way through life. And now she was on a road trip with a prince—a prince, for goodness’ sake!—who’d left his entourage with the drop of a hat. What did that say about him? That he didn’t care? Or that he couldn’t be trusted? Or maybe both.

He certainly didn’t seem excited about marrying one of the “beautiful people” among the elite in Europe. He’d marry someone tall, slim and elegant and within a few years they’d produce the next generation of tall, elegant royalty. She’d never seen a photo of royalty in which the women were petite, freckled and “wholesome”—a description she’d heard from family and friends one too many times.

The difference between Prince Alexi and her long-gone father, Kerry mused, was that dear ol’ Dad had run away after he’d fathered three daughters. He’d left four people confused and angry, while Alexi had infuriated his public-relations director…and maybe disappointed his king. He certainly wasn’t married yet, so maybe he’d settle down someday soon.

She risked a glance at him, wondering why he didn’t remind her more of Hank since they looked so much alike. Alexi’s striking profile was highlighted by morning sunlight streaming in through the windshield. His handsome features and confidence probably came from generations of blue blood. She imagined that he was used to getting whatever he wanted, even if his whim was a trip to Galveston in an un-air-conditioned car named Delores.

Perhaps he was a little like her dad, she thought as she headed east on Interstate 10, but not much. Not too much, anyway…

Chapter Two

Alexi settled back against the fake leopard fur seat and let the warmth of the Texas day seep into his bones. He’d taken several short vacations in the past year or so, but they’d involved rushed trips to the Mediterranean or skiing in the Alps, hiding from the paparazzi, trying to have a personal life in impersonal fancy suites and ski lodges. Nothing at all like a long drive across the Texas prairie in an aging Toyota.

Nothing at all like a trip with Kerry Lynn Jacks.

“You have a real ‘cat ate the canary’ smile on your face,” she said, her voice drifting through the drowsy noontime like feathers through mist.

“Hmm. Well, I do feel rather contented at the moment.”

She chuckled. “You’re an easy man to please…Mack.”

“I know a score of people who would disagree with you. Starting with my public-relations director, who is probably still fuming.”

“That was kind of mean of you—leaving her standing there in the parking lot, stamping her foot.”

Alexi smiled. “Yes, that was rather bad of me. I’ll make it up to her, though. Besides, I told her I didn’t want to make the appearances in San Antonio. She was filling in some time until we discovered if the president was going to come to his ranch for the weekend.”

The car swerved as Kerry gasped. Alexi opened one eye and looked around.

“The president! You mean you were supposed to meet with the president and you ran off to Galveston with me instead?”

“The meeting wasn’t assured. We had no idea if he’d be traveling to Texas. You know how things come up.”

“Oh, of course,” she said in a highly stressed voice. When he glanced at her, she made a sweeping gesture with her hands. “I know exactly how things can just come up with you heads of state.”

“Really, Kerry, I doubt that the meeting would have occurred. Congress and world events can be very unpredictable. Besides, originally I had wanted to take a few days of holiday, but Lady Gwendolyn insisted we keep to a tight schedule.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m in my car, having a conversation with a prince who was going to spend the weekend with the president.”

“No, you’re driving to Galveston with your good friend Mack.”

“Hey, I’m the one having the fantasy, okay?”

“Are you so sure?” he asked. Kerry might not look like the models and aspiring actresses who attended the events he usually frequented. She was cute rather than beautiful, petite rather than statuesque and honest rather than calculating. He found her honesty and natural charm extremely desirable. “I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather spend time with, and that includes your current leader.”

She opened her mouth, but no words came forth. For once, he’d managed to silence her somewhat saucy remarks.

Closing his eyes, he settled back against the seat once more. The sound of the tires rolling down the highway lulled him into sleep, and he dozed, a vision of Kerry’s amazed expression bringing a smile to his lips.

“WHERE ARE WE?” Alexi—or Mack—slowly opened his eyes. Lord, he looked good when he woke up. Really, really sexy. How was she going to keep her hands off him for three days?

“We’re in Sealy, about an hour outside of Houston.” She drove past the Wal-Mart and several fast-food places until she spotted a service station with a food mart. “Are you hungry? We can get a snack, although I’d like to wait to eat supper with my aunt and uncle tonight, if possible.”

She pulled off the interstate onto the service road.

“Very good. I could use a cold drink.” He raised his lean, muscular torso off Delores’s seat and stretched, as much as possible, inside the tight confines of the car. “I hadn’t realized I was so sleepy,” he said as she pulled to a stop at the gas pumps.

Kerry tore her eyes away from his tempting body and reached for the door handle. “You can get a soft drink or some water if you’d like. I won’t be long.”

“I’ll help you,” he said, opening his own door.

“No, that’s okay.” She needed a few minutes apart from him. For the past several hours, she’d had time to think about this trip. About him. About what she was doing driving a real, live prince around Texas.

Maybe this adventure was a big mistake.

“It’s been several years, but I think I can remember how to fuel up your vehicle.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Kerry, if I truly were Hank, wouldn’t you let me help?”

“Well…”

Right there beside the gas pumps, Delores’s poor old engine popping and wheezing beside them, he used one finger to tip up her chin. “I’m Mack, your friend, remember? Treat me just like you would Hank.”

“I’m having a hard time with that,” she whispered.

“Kerry Lynn Jacks, you are thinking too much,” he answered with a smile.

His smile slowly faded. Her lips slowly parted. He leaned closer, closer…Just when she thought he might kiss her, her car let out a particularly loud ping. Blinking, Kerry stepped back.

“Seriously,” she said. “I’ll pump the gas. If you’d like to do something nice, you can buy me a soft drink. Anything cold with caffeine.”

“Very well,” he said with a sigh.

“Oh, and Mack,” she said, emphasizing the nickname, “whatever you do, don’t use the word schedule.” His pronunciation of “shed-yule” would give him away immediately.

He chuckled, waving off her concern, and she went back to filling up Delores’s tank, probably for the last time.

After they’d both used the facilities, they piled back into the car. In the few minutes they’d been apart, Kerry had gotten herself under control again. Okay, so she was chauffeuring a prince around Texas. And pretending he was someone else. She could do this.

But he had to help.

“Look, if you’re going to be ‘Mack’ instead of Prince Alexi,” she said as she started Delores’s reluctant engine, “you need to talk like you’re from Texas instead of London.”

“We can work on that on the way to Galveston.”

“Okay. So tell me about your family—your real one, that is, not something you’d make up to fit your Texas persona—but use your best Texas accent.”

“Hmm, very well,” he began.

“Wait just a minute. Don’t say ‘very well.’ Texans just don’t talk that way. You can say ‘okay’ instead.”

“Okay,” he responded with a tight smile. “I’m the oldest son of King Wilheim of Belegovia. I have a brother who lives in our country and a sister who is attending university—”

“Nope, she’s ‘goin’ to college,”’ Kerry interrupted.

“Okay, she’s goin’ to college at my alma mater, Harvard.”

“Pretty classy,” Kerry said with a grin. “You’re getting better, by the way. Just relax. Go ahead.”

“Let’s see…Oh, yes. My mother lives in England.”

“Are your parents divorced?”

“No, but they haven’t lived together since shortly after our country became a separate entity after liberation from the Soviet Union.”

“Okay, tell that to me again in Texas-style English.”

Alexi laughed. “Sorry. Belegovia is an old monarchy that was swallowed up by the Soviet Union after World War II. My grandfather fled the country with his family and sought asylum in England.”

“So the queen took you in.”

“Actually, I—”

“No ‘actually,’ either. Just go ahead and tell me.”

“Very…er, sorry,” he responded with a grin. “My father was a very young man when they settled in England. I wasn’t born yet.”

“Oh, so that’s why your mother is from England.”

“Right. And she prefers to live there. You see, she never expected my father to become king. After all, he didn’t have a country when they married, and there wasn’t any clue that we’d ever get it back.”

“So she didn’t want to be a queen.”

“She didn’t want to give up her life, her home, her friends,” Alexi said, his expression showing he’d resigned himself to his parents’ situation long ago. “My father taught history. She was much happier being married to a professor than a king.”

“I suppose I can understand her point. I mean, there’s got to be a lot of hassles when you’re a monarch. Lack of privacy, lots of expectations.”

“And don’t forget all those public appearances,” he said with a grin.

Kerry gave him what she hoped was a chastising frown.

“To give her credit, she tried to fit in for a short while, but the country was still chaotic when we returned to Belegovia. The parliament and some of the courts were in operation, but the palace had yet to be restored and the role of the king was still tenuous.”

“Texas talk, remember?” she prodded.

“Oh, of course.” He frowned for a moment, then brightened. “The place was a damned mess,” he finally said with a grin and a drawl.

Kerry laughed. “By George, I think he’s got it,” she said in her best Henry Higgins imitation.

She sipped her soft drink as they drew closer to Houston. She hoped they missed most of the rush hour traffic, which could be brutal, from what she’d heard from her aunt and uncle. They avoided “the city,” which meant anywhere in or near Houston, whenever possible, preferring the slower pace of life on the island.

“Tell me about yourself, Kerry Lynn Jacks,” Alexi said, breaking into her thoughts as she passed a semi.

“I have a mother and two sisters. No father, at least not for years. He left when I was thirteen.”

“That must have been difficult for your mother.”

“Yes, it was. She’s a waitress at the Four Square Café in Ranger Springs, which doesn’t pay really great. I’ve been helping out as much as I could, mainly because tips at the truck stop are a lot better than at the local diner.”

“I see. What about your sisters? How old are they?”

“Carole is just a year and a half younger than me—nearly twenty-seven. Cheryl is twenty-six. Both of them live in Ranger Springs.”

“Do they resemble you?”

“Your Texas accent is slipping,” she said, mostly to collect her thoughts. “And yes, sort of.”

“Then they must be very beautiful.”

“Oh, puleeze,” she said, already feeling her cheeks heating. “You don’t have to say things like that just because I’m giving you a ride across the state.”

“That’s not why I said it.”

“Look, I’m slightly cute, okay? But beautiful people are tall and thin and dress in incredibly fantastic clothes. They live in New York and California and exotic places, not Ranger Springs, Texas.”

“You’ve been reading too many fashion and celebrity magazines.”

“No, I’ve just learned to be a realist. I’m not unhappy with who I am. I’m content to be short and cute.” She took a big breath, then smiled at him. “Besides, I’m also smart and stubborn. That makes up for a lot of slinky clothes and exotic locales.”

“So what is a smart, cute woman like yourself doing after graduation on Saturday?”

She brightened at his question. “I have a great job at Grayson Industries as a financial analyst. Gray Phillips moved his company to town two years ago and married our doctor, Amy Wheatley. Business is booming, so he’s expanding his financial staff. I’ll be looking at things like cash flow, financing and inventory management.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“Are you just saying that?”

“No. Why do you think I went to Harvard? They don’t offer degrees in ‘princely deportment,”’ he teased. “I got my MBA to help manage my own investments and help my father. Besides, there was a good chance I’d need to get a job, since the title ‘prince’ doesn’t translate into a living in the real world. There was no guarantee that Belegovia could successfully return to a parliamentary-style government with a titular monarchy.”

“Really? I guess I hadn’t thought about it.” She’d assumed that he’d always been assured of his position in the world. But now that she knew more of his background, she understood that being a prince wasn’t something he’d grown up with, not like the British royal family. From the day they were born, they knew what their role was going to be. Alexi had grown up as the son of a history professor who happened to have royal blood.