The Prince's Texas Bride

And now that he’d turned thirty, his father demanded he get married. A princess bride. If she’d read about it in one of her mother’s royalty magazines, Kerry knew she’d think the situation romantic. After all, hadn’t she watched the last big royal wedding with tears in her eyes over the fairy-tale quality—the ivory satin gown with the long, long train, the tiara, the beautiful flowers?

Now that she knew the situation from Alexi’s point of view, she understood the pressure he felt. This trip was obviously a rebellion against his father’s mandate. She’d taken only one course in psychology, but she understood such motivation.

“If you get tired of driving, please let me know. I’ll be glad to take over,” he said, breaking into her thoughts.

“We’re almost to Houston. The traffic is pretty bad and it’s almost rush hour. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

“Actually…sorry.” He slipped into his version of a Texas accent. “I meant, I was a darned good driver when I lived in Boston.”

“Do you even have a driver’s license?”

“Of course,” he said with mock indignation. “Duly issued by the Belegovian Department of Transportation. I even took the written test. And I drove a Formula One racer in a charity event in Monte Carlo last year.”

Kerry laughed as she shook her head. “Just hang on, Mario Andretti. I’m taking you into the final lap. We’ll be in Galveston in less than two hours.”

ALEXI ENJOYED viewing the sprawling metropolitan area of Houston. He could barely see the downtown area from the eastbound interstate highway, just south of Houston. Various groupings of high-rise buildings gave the impression of several different “downtown” districts as Kerry deftly dodged traffic.

She would have been a big hit in the charity race in Monaco, he thought with a smile. He could just see her layered blond hair peeking out from a helmet, her petite, curvy body encased in the one-piece, form-fitting, emblem-emblazoned driver’s suit.

His smile faded as his body responded to the image. Shifting in Delores’s fake-fur seat, he glanced at Kerry. She was absorbed in the heavy traffic, so he looked his fill. She was right; she was cute. Her skin was lightly freckled, her hair naturally streaked by the sun. But her animated features and endearingly honest personality made her beautiful in his eyes.

When he’d impulsively decided to accompany her on this trip, he’d wanted to explore the instant attraction he’d felt for this Texas sprite. Now that he knew more about her, he liked her even more. He wasn’t sure how many days he could spend with her—surely they’d return for her graduation on Saturday—but he would savor each moment.

He really hoped the president was too busy to go to his ranch this weekend. After all, they had nothing of substance to discuss; Belegovia’s contract with the United States for the removal of old Soviet Union missile silos was secure. The U.S. had granted much-needed foreign aid for Belegovia’s cooperation in making sure the region was safe from nuclear accidents.

Besides, Alexi knew he’d much rather spend time with Kerry than the leader of the free world.

They exited the loop and headed south for Galveston, passing one of Houston’s airports, Kerry informed him. Soon the buildings and the traffic cleared. The flat plains of south Texas met the water in marshes on either side of the highway.

“How much farther?” he finally asked.

Kerry smiled at him. “You sound like a little boy.”

“Those are fightin’ words,” he said, mocking a Texas accent.

Kerry laughed. “Actually, you sounded a lot like Hank then. Keep it up and Aunt Marcy and Uncle Bob will never know you have blue blood in your veins.”

“So my goal is to be a little over the top?”

“That’s Hank. And to answer your original question, about half an hour.”

Alexi settled back in the seat and watched the salt marshes whiz by. Hank. He kept coming up in conversation. Had Kerry been in love with the cowboy? Was she over their romance? The questions bothered him more than he wanted to admit. But that was probably because he was so curious about all aspects of Kerry Lynn Jacks. Wondering about her previous relationships was normal…right?

So what if he couldn’t recall ever thinking about the previous lovers of any of the women he’d dated. Kerry was different in so many ways, but they both knew their time together was limited. Perhaps that made the experience so much more intense. They had a lot to learn in three short days.

He’d love to learn how she would look, flushed with desire, her blue-gray eyes smoky and mysterious. She was so expressive, so spontaneous. Kerry would be a wonderful lover, he was certain. But she was also a delightful person, and until they arrived at their destination and he knew what sleeping arrangements were offered, he was content to watch her drive and listen to her speak of her friends, family and home state.

“I should warn you that Aunt Marcy is in a wheelchair. She gets around so well that sometimes I forget, but I didn’t want you to be too surprised when we get to their house.”

“That’s fine. Was she in an accident?”

“No, she was one of the last cases of polio before the vaccine was developed in the 1950s.”

“Bloody horrible disease,” he muttered, then held up his hand. “And no comments about saying it in Texas English.”

“I wasn’t going to,” she said softly. She drove for a few more minutes, then gestured to the left. “I know you went off without much from your luggage. If you need to get anything, there’s a mall up there. Galveston clothing shopping is pretty limited unless you want souvenir T-shirts and tropical shorts.”

“That’s very thoughtful. I should pick up a few things. If you wouldn’t mind…”

“Not at all.”

They shopped at several stores for khaki slacks, another pair of jeans and a package of underwear. He let Kerry pick out several shirts since he wasn’t sure what Hank would wear. They both laughed over the wide variety of swim trunks, which he’d need for the beach. She playfully suggested bright green baggy tropicals with huge pink and purple flowers. He preferred solid blue with a discreet red stripe up the side. They compromised on a moderate red and white pattern.

At the cosmetics counter, he picked up a bottle of his usual cologne, some lotion and sunscreen, since they were going to the beach. Kerry appeared a bit surprised, but he couldn’t see ignoring personal grooming just because he was on a road trip.

Within an hour they were back on the road, his new duffel bag stowed in the back seat. He looked forward to meeting Kerry’s aunt and uncle and spending time in a typical American family home. He hoped his presence didn’t disrupt their sleeping arrangements. If so he could always get a hotel room, which he assumed were plentiful in this island city.

Or he could offer to bunk with Kerry, he thought with a grin. He’d be willing to sacrifice sleep for the opportunity to hold her in his arms and get to know her much, much better.

Just then they approached a high bridge.

“This is the only bridge on and off the island,” she explained. “When a hurricane warning is issued, Aunt Mary and Uncle Bob told me traffic is a nightmare.”

They passed over a bay with boat docks lining the shores. A little farther ahead, he saw waterside homes to the right, and a strange pyramid structure. “What’s that?”

“Moody Gardens. The Moodys are a wealthy Texas family who give a lot to different charities and universities. I’ve never been to Moody Gardens, but Aunt Marcy loves to go. They have a tropical habitat with butterflies.”

Soon the highway turned into a city street with a wide, tree-lined median as they went past small businesses and modest, sometimes shabby houses. So far, except for the scruffy palm trees and blooming shrubs, the city didn’t look like a semitropical island, but he hadn’t seen the beach yet.

“The old part of Galveston is up ahead,” Kerry said, pointing to the left. “Tomorrow we can tour some of the homes if you’d like. Or we can go to the Strand, this Victorian section near the pier, with shops and restaurants.”

“Anything is fine with me. Whatever you’d like to do, I know I’ll enjoy it.” He was especially looking forward to seeing Kerry in her swimsuit. He didn’t suppose he’d be lucky enough to discover she wore a bikini. “When will we go to the beach?”

“Almost anytime. As a matter of fact, we can take a walk along there tonight. My aunt and uncle live only two blocks off the seawall.”

“Fabulous,” he said with a grin when Kerry turned off the main thoroughfare onto a numbered side street. He couldn’t wait for a romantic moonlit walk along the beach with his Texas tour guide.

KERRY PULLED DELORES to a stop in the driveway behind her aunt and uncle’s van. She had to stop herself from running for the door and giving them both a big hug. She hadn’t seen Aunt Marcy and Uncle Bob for almost a year. She’d taken more class hours this last year, but continued to work a full shift at the truck stop. Between family, school and work, she hadn’t taken a vacation. And her aunt and uncle didn’t enjoy traveling much. Most houses didn’t accommodate Aunt Marcy’s wheelchair, so visiting was difficult.

Uncle Bob opened the door, grinning as he spread his arms wide. Kerry smiled and ran up the ramp to the front porch.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said against his pipe-tobacco-scented shirt.

“We’re so proud of you, Kerry girl,” he murmured as he gave her a bear hug. “It’s good to see you, too.”

She looked back at the car. Alexi was standing by Delores’s bumper holding his duffel and her suitcase. She gestured him forward.

“Uncle Bob, I want you to meet my friend, Mack.”

“Mack? Why, isn’t that Hank McCauley? Your mother sent us a picture of the two of you at a rodeo a couple of years ago. I thought you called him Hank.”

“Oh,” she said, waving her hand dismissively, “Mack is my special nickname for him.

“Mack, this is my uncle, Robert Jacks, but you can call him Bob.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Alexi said, holding out his hand and grinning. He sounded enough like Hank to fool someone who had never actually met the cowboy.

As the men shook hands, Kerry slipped behind them to find Aunt Marcy, just inside the living room. She leaned down and gave her aunt a big hug.

“I’m so glad to see you.”

“I’m so glad you brought a friend with you. I was worried about you driving across the state all by yourself in that old car.”

“Delores did just fine, thank you very much,” Kerry said, smiling at her aunt. “She might be a little old and have a lot of miles on her, but she’s never let me down yet.”

“I’m sure your new car will be just as good.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will, too. I’m just going to miss my old clunker. You’ll try to find her a good home, won’t you?”

Aunt Marcy nodded her head. “Of course we will, but you should have never named that car.”

Grinning, Kerry turned to see “Mack” and Uncle Bob enter the room. “Kerry brought a friend—Hank McCauley.”

“Wonderful,” Aunt Marcy said, reaching out her hand. “We have plenty of room and an extra sofa bed, Mr. McCauley.”

“Please, call me Mack,” Alexi said, giving his words a slight twang even as he bestowed his most charming smile on her aunt. “And as long as you’re sure I won’t be in the way, I’d love to stay in your home. If not, I can get a hotel room.”

“Nonsense,” Aunt Marcy said, turning her wheelchair around and heading for the hallway.

Kerry breathed a sigh of relief since the introductions were out of the way and no one was suspicious of her prince. They moved into the kitchen. Aunt Marcy was in the process of preparing dinner. Kerry hadn’t eaten since an early light lunch just before she met Alexi at the truck stop.

Aunt Marcy scooped fried okra out of the skillet and onto a paper towel-lined platter. The unique smell filled the yellow-and-white kitchen, which had been modified for a wheelchair. Most of the countertops and appliances were low, so they could be reached from the sitting position. As the vegetable cooled and drained, Aunt Marcy transferred ground beef patties to the sizzling skillet.

“Need help?” Kerry asked.

“No, I’ve got everything pretty well prepared. We weren’t sure when you’d get here, and I didn’t want dinner to get cold.”

Kerry smiled as Alexi eyed the fried okra. “Try it,” she urged. Of course, Hank had eaten this type of food all his life. He selected a single piece and, after testing the heat in the palm of his hand, he placed the okra discreetly into his mouth.

He even chewed neatly. Politely. She’d never seen him eat a meal, but she was certain he had perfect manners. She couldn’t imagine Prince Alexi doing anything badly.

“I’ll get some clean sheets for the Hide-A-Bed sofa in the den,” Uncle Bob informed Alexi as he also popped a piece of fried okra into his mouth. “I put both your bags in Kerry’s room, temporarily.”

“That means you can get your bag anytime you’d like, as long as it’s not in the middle of the night,” Kerry explained.

“Sure,” Alexi agreed casually.

Uncle Bob folded his arms across his chest and faced them both. “Not that I don’t trust you two kids, but we have a rule in the house—no wedding ring, no hanky-panky.”

“I respect your principles,” Alexi said.

“Uncle Bob! We’re just friends.”

“Enough said,” he muttered. “I just wanted to make myself clear. Kerry, you never have brought a male friend to visit us before.”

“Well, Mack rather…insisted. He was worried about me driving down here in Delores.”

“I respect you, son,” Uncle Bob said with a laugh.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who was worried,” Aunt Marcy added.

Kerry threw up her hands. “Gesh, I’m twenty-eight years old and I’ve been driving for twelve years. You’d think I could find my way from Ranger Springs to Galveston on my own.”

“We just worry about you, dear. You’re so independent,” Aunt Marcy said, patting Kerry’s hand. Her aunt turned to Alexi. “Kerry helps her family so much, and not just moneywise. She pitches in until we wonder how she gets her schoolwork done. But she must, because she’s graduating cum laude even though she works full-time.”

“Okay, now I’m embarrassed,” Kerry said, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I’m taking A—Mack away before you reveal any more family secrets.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the small bedroom she’d stayed in many times when she’d visited. Once inside, she drew open the curtains, but couldn’t see anything outside due to the early evening shadows. A mirror image of her and Alexi, standing close together, stared back.

“My aunt and uncle are just curious. Plus, they want to impress you with how wonderful I am,” she added flippantly to lighten the mood. “They always say I’m their favorite niece, but I suspect they say the same thing to my two sisters.”

Alexi laughed. “I don’t need them to expound on your virtues. I’d already figured that out on my own.”

She grabbed her suitcase and slipped it onto the bed. “I’m disappointed. I wanted to be a woman of mystery.”

“Oh, I’m sure there are many layers I have yet to uncover,” he responded in a sultry tone that made her breath hitch and her palms grow damp. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest, confident, powerful and just a little mysterious himself.

She wished he didn’t make those suggestive comments in such a sexy voice. Her mind filled with all types of “uncovering” possibilities.

“I’m going to unpack real quick, then help Aunt Marcy get supper ready. If you’d like to wash up, or look around, go ahead.”

He didn’t immediately take the hint, watching her intensely from the doorway. She wasn’t locked in a room with him; she could push by him if she wanted and be in the hallway of the relatively small house. Or she could just shout her aunt or uncle’s name and they’d be here in an instant. But she didn’t feel threatened…at least not in an uncomfortable sense. A kind of a welcome, yet edgy sense of awareness flowed between them.

This felt different from their time together in the car, probably because they hadn’t been staring at each other. This felt…dangerously thrilling.

Could Prince Alexi be her reward for ten long years of hard work?

Chapter Three

After a dinner of surprisingly tasty hamburger steak with grilled onions, mashed potatoes and fried okra, Alexi welcomed a walk along the beach. He and Kerry took a towel to sit upon and a flashlight to see their way to what she called “the seawall.”

“Your aunt and uncle are charming,” he said as they neared the busy thoroughfare that ran along the coastline. Several other couples, some young people and a few families were also out on foot tonight. When there was a lull in the automobile traffic, he could hear the waves breaking against the shore. The smell of saltwater coated the warm, humid air.

“They are wonderful people. It was their idea for the family to take up a collection and buy Marcy’s mother’s car. She went into an assisted-living facility in Alvin, which is just south of Houston. Since Aunt Marcy is in a wheelchair and needs a specially equipped van, they didn’t need an extra car.”

“I’m sure everyone will feel more confident now that you have a much newer car,” he commented, remembering their earlier conversation.

“Yes, but the funny thing is now that I’ve graduated, I’ll only be driving about four miles round trip.”

“That’s all the distance from your mother’s house to this Grayson Industries?” he asked as they crossed the street.

“Actually, I’m getting my own apartment. I’m moving in next week.” She turned to look at him, her face alight with joy. “You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to having my own place for the first time in my life. No sharing a bathroom. No being quiet because everyone else is sleeping. No one to steal my food from the refrigerator.”

Alexi laughed. “I know what you mean. My first flat in London was absolute heaven. I did all the typical bachelor things. My flat was messy, smelly and tastelessly decorated.”

Kerry laughed. He felt his own smile fading as he remembered other things about living on his own. Girlfriends, some attracted to his title, some hoping for an introduction to one of the British princes, some just looking for a good time. Easy sex, although not nearly as much as some might have assumed. He didn’t want to think that Kerry would have the equivalent experience. Boyfriends. Easy sex of any sort.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like the beach?”

He turned his attention back to the present and Kerry. Forcing a smile, he took her hand. “I adore the beach.”

“You’re slipping into your British accent again.”

“I know, but let me be myself for a while. I’ve been very good at playing Hank McCauley, if I do say so myself.” He pulled her aside as three people on in-line skates whizzed past. Kerry’s leg brushed his as their hips bumped briefly before she stepped away.

“Yes, you have.” She swung their linked hands while strolling along the sidewalk, apparently not as affected as he by their contact. “This seawall was built after a huge hurricane in 1900. The whole island was raised to keep it from ever being submerged again, and this seawall was built of concrete and rock to keep the water from washing away the shoreline.”

“Very impressive—both the history and your knowledge of the area.”

“My aunt and uncle are great history buffs. They have a book on Galveston you might find interesting, just in case you have trouble sleeping.”

“Good to know,” he said as they started down the steps that took them to the beach. He had an idea he would have trouble sleeping with Kerry so near, yet so far away. Ever since seeing the cozy bedroom she’d be occupying, he’d envisioned her stretched out on that small bed, an alluring smile lighting up her cute, freckled face.

The smell of the ocean was stronger here, the sand deep as they stepped off the wooden steps onto the beach. The sound of the waves was even and reassuring as he again took Kerry’s hand. Lamps from the seawall illuminated the area enough that they could see where they were walking. Other couples strolled closer to the water, where the sand was firm and wet. White foam on the waves gleamed silver in the artificial light.

“I suppose it’s not as wonderful as those Mediterranean beaches you’re used to.”

Alexi chuckled. “Actually, European beaches are almost all rocks. We have very little sand, especially something this fine and pale.”

“Really?”

“For truly wonderful beaches, we go to the Caribbean or Central or South America.”

“I’d love to travel someday,” she said wistfully. “I get two weeks of vacation a year, but I have to wait six months to take part of that. After five years, I get three weeks.”

“Sometimes shorter holidays can be very relaxing.”

“Yes. We have Memorial Day, the Fourth of July and then Labor Day coming up. Maybe I can plan a long weekend someplace fun. Corpus Christi or Las Vegas or New Orleans.”

He didn’t correct the impression she’d gotten from his use of “holiday.” In England, the word was used instead of the American “vacation.” But whatever Kerry called time off from work, he wondered if she would venture somewhere alone. Or would she have a boyfriend to accompany her on one of these upcoming weekends?

Perhaps he could fly over and take a holiday with her.

Perhaps their brief relationship didn’t have to end with him going back to Belegovia on Sunday. Unless, of course, he immediately became involved with someone else at the insistence of his father. Unless he became engaged to one of the European elite who had been selected for him.

“I love it here,” Kerry breathed, barely above a whisper. He had to lean close to catch her words over the rhythmic pounding of the surf. “The sound of the waves is so peaceful. Sometimes I just sit on the rocks,” she said, pointing to a man-made rocky pier that jutted into the surf, “and watch for hours.”

“I feel that way when I’m on a boat,” Alexi admitted. “Especially a sailboat. There’s nothing like the rocking motion of the water, the slap of the waves against the hull, to lull your brain into semiconscious bliss.”

“Exactly,” Kerry said softly, turning toward him. “I knew you’d understand.”

She wants you to kiss her. The knowledge was so certain that for a moment, Alexi thought someone had spoken the words into his brain. But he was only reacting to Kerry. Her wide eyes and parted lips beckoned him.

Semiconscious bliss. That’s what he felt when he pulled her close, their bodies touching everywhere. His brain shut down, giving over to sensations. Her rapid breathing. Her small, shapely breasts brushing his rib cage. Her thighs nestling against his.

He looked into her luminous eyes until he lowered his head. She tasted like the orange sherbet he’d eaten for dessert—sweet and tangy, just like Kerry. Then he lost himself when she parted her lips and her tongue touched his. His hands tightened against her back, pulling her closer. She met his passion with equal enthusiasm, kissing him thoroughly until neither could breathe.

They broke together and sucked in air, still clinging tightly. Her breath tickled hot against his chest as his hands moved restlessly over her back. He longed to reach lower, cup her bottom in his hands and pull her higher, until she wrapped her legs around his waist, but he didn’t dare. Not in public. Not yet.

But the urge was there, stronger than ever. They had two days, possibly three, before they each began new lives. Could that be enough for either of them?

AS KERRY FIDGETED restlessly in the guest bedroom, she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. Wow. Alexi might look like Hank, but the two men were worlds apart. She’d never reacted to her former boyfriend like she did to this prince. The chemistry was just so…intense. Different. She didn’t know why, but Alexi brought out a side of her she’d only slightly explored. Sure, she and Hank had kissed a couple of times, but there hadn’t been any sparks.