Lone Star Prince. Cindy Gerard

who not only showed her a glimpse of a freedom she’d never known but also introduced her to true passion and the one great love of her life.

      He’d been so...so American. Strong. Vital. So guilelessly arrogant in his self-confidence, utterly charming for his lack of pretense. And so beautiful. In his close-cropped military haircut, his crisply creased olive drabs that hugged his rugged body and showcased the breadth and the depth of the man within, he’d made her fall fast and hard. Though he could never know it, she’d also fallen forever.

      A vivid memory of the day they parted hit her with a startling sense of presence. She remembered every pulse beat of that day, recalled with a sharp twist to her heart the moment she’d told him the truth about who she was, and why they couldn’t be together. Angry, he’d scribbled his phone number across an American dollar bill and pressed it into her hand. His blue eyes had been stormy, his jaw set in anger and pride. “If you ever need anything, call this number.”

      In the diluted cabin light, she searched his eyes for any sign of the passion that had flared between them then. She saw only a sense of duty, a cold stare of indifference. Yet he had kept his promise. He had come for her. Tears stung her eyes, tightened her throat. If only someone could have been there to save Sara.

      Sara was dead and now the twins were lost to Anna, too.

      “Sara’s babies,” she murmured, suddenly overwhelmed by feelings of helplessness and cowardice, her fear for them equaled only by her sense of failure. “I shouldn’t have left without them.”

      “Anna...there was no way we could get them out this trip. We cut it too close as it was. I promise you, the Alpha team made plans for my brother, Blake, to rescue them.”

      She blinked back the moisture matting her lashes, knowing she was weak for wanting to believe him. Just as he was strong—as she’d known only he could be strong.

      “You trusted me to come for you.” His tone forced her to focus on him, on now. When she did, his eyes restated his words as a question that demanded an answer.

      She nodded. Yes. She had trusted him.

      “Then trust me one more time. Blake will find them. He’ll bring them to you.”

      Clinging to the strength of his conviction, she let her head drop back against the headrest, made herself draw a calming breath. Distancing herself from her fear for the babies, she smoothed a tuft of downy fine hair from William’s brow. “You never bargained for this. And I never dreamed I’d have to call on you someday. How can I ever thank you?”

      “Level with me,” he said, point-blank, and her heart skipped several beats. “Tell me everything...everything so I can help get you out of this mess.”

      Everything. She turned her head away. He deserved to know everything. She couldn’t give him what he deserved. Not now. She enfolded William closer to her side. Maybe not ever. But he was right. If she was going to survive this, if she was to escape Ivan’s far-reaching power and undermine his plans, she had to tell him something. Enough, at least, to keep William safe and keep her from becoming Ivan’s wife and political pawn for the rest of her life.

      Aware suddenly that Gregory was speaking to her again, she turned to him, tried to clear her head.

      “Why don’t you rest, Anna.” He offered the suggestion with a gentleness that was almost her undoing, as if he sensed she simply couldn’t handle anymore tonight. “You’re exhausted. Try to get some sleep. We’ll sort this all out after we land and get the two of you settled.”

      She was too relieved with the reprieve to do anything but thank him again. And to ask the inevitable question.

      “Where are we going?”

      For the first time since he’d stolen her and William from their quarters in the west wing of Obersbourg Palace, he smiled. “Why, we’re going home, sugar.” A very slow, very deliberate western drawl had slipped into his voice like warm honey. “My home. West Texas.”

      Texas. Arid plains, wide open spaces. Cowboys. She remembered his words from that summer when he’d talked about his home with such pride. Miles and miles of nothing but sky. And oil wells. Lots of oil wells.

      It sounded like a good place to hide. It sounded like a good place to heal. Carefully, she offered her own smile. “I’ve always wanted to see a cowboy.”

      His eyes softened a fraction. “Well that works out just fine then, because I reckon there’re a few cowboys who will be pleased as punch to see you, too.”

      While his words were meant to lighten the mood and ease her tension, they had the opposite effect.

      “Don’t worry, Anna.”

      She met his eyes. Saw again that he had sensed her concern.

      “No one in town will know who you are, much less recognize you. We’ve seen to that.”

      He seemed both satisfied and sure—and, unaccountably, amused by a prospect he chose not to share with her.

      That was fair, she decided. She had her secret. She’d let him have his. For now it was enough to know she was free of Ivan. At least for the moment. And the moment was what she needed most.

      It wasn’t over. It might never be over. But she had breathing room now. And she had time. Time to regroup, to assess, to think of a way to save her country without sacrificing her son and herself in the process. Until she accomplished that, she had to believe in Gregory to keep her safe and bring her Sara’s babies.

      Exhausted, she finally let the fatigue overtake her. With William safe for the moment and snug by her side, she let her eyes drift close, let months of tension ease from her body and finally gave in to the haven of sleep.

      Greg sensed the moment the nervous energy that had fueled Anna hit empty. In the darkness he watched her drift into an embracing sleep. He still didn’t know what had prompted her to turn to him. Couldn’t entertain even a guess—or didn’t want to—because all the explanations started with that long ago summer and ended with the wanting to pick up where they’d left off. The one thing he was sure of in all of this mess was that he couldn’t let that happen. He was wiser now and he’d be damned if he’d let her break through his defenses again.

      Yet he couldn’t stop himself from taking stock of her classic beauty as she slept—the porcelain complexion, long blond hair, gently winged brows, wide-set eyes, regally sculpted cheekbones—and feel a hard knot of yearning tighten in his gut. He checked it as abruptly as it started. Obviously, she hadn’t lost sleep over their parting. The child at her side was the proof of that. More to the point, it drove home one indisputable fact: she hadn’t wasted any time moving from his bed to another.

      A part of him would like to hate her for that. He didn’t have it in him. Just like he didn’t have it in him to love her. Not again. Not even in the face of the danger she was in. Not even in the face of the temptation.

      He looked away. For the last time, there was no reason to go there. She was as out of bounds now as she’d been then. Only now, he was wise enough to know up front where the boundaries began. More importantly, he knew where they ended. And he no longer needed her to spell it out for him. She, after all, was a princess. And as she’d so convincingly implied four years ago, he was no prince.

      What he was, he acknowledged with a grim set to his mouth, was a sucker for a damsel in distress. What he would be, he assured himself as he looked away from the tumble of blond hair framing her face, was damn glad when this blew over and Her Royal Highness jetsetted out of his life again and got back to the one she’d been born and bred to live.

      One

      Four months later. The Royal Diner, Royal, Texas

      Gearing up for the breakfast rush, Anna snagged a juice glass on her way to the cooler, filled it and breezed on out toward booth number six. She reset the coffeemaker on her way by as a fleeting thought of her wild escape from Obersbourg four months ago ran through her mind.